#realizing all but a few of my relationships in life have been built on the value/use i bring rather than who i am as a person

[lupismaris]

When you and your teammate are some of the only sober reasonable adults with emotional regulation skills and common sense on the squad and may now be building a quasi friendship out of semi-regular bitching sessions to determine how to sort shit out amongst the children or if we should just let it combust organically

[sceletaflores]

come on into my bed with me (i know you want to)

pair: old man!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, some sad vibes because i can't function without them, large age gap (but isn't that obvious by now? mid 20s/old as fuck), established relationship but only kind of, falls in the logan 2017 timeline but very loosely, LONGINGGGG, gratuitous nickname use (kid, baby, honey, ect), nasty dirty talk cause he's old and gross, not so dry humping, JUST THE TIP RAHHHH, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: this was heavily inspired by imogen heap's 'i am in love with you' because that song fucks so hard and it really gave me lots of old man logan vibes. i was just so overcome with nasty thoughts that the beat possessed me and i blacked out and listened to it on a constant repeat while i wrote this instead of doing my a&p work. kisses!

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

you can't sleep, logan left his door open...

Rain pelts at the smudged glass of your window, drops trailing down the span of the panes that you follow with your eyes.

It's been raining nearly all week, a rare thing in Mexico, especially somewhere as dry as Sonora.

You used to love the rain. You felt a special kind of comfort anytime night would come and there'd be a certain chill swirling through the air, that familiar scent of damp soil and wet stone rising as the first drops hit the ground.

In Sonora, rain is supposed to be a gift—a reprieve from the unrelenting heat, a chance for the dry earth to drink.

It should feel cleansing, like a reset of sorts, and maybe it would have a few months ago.

Now it just feels heavy, oppressive. Each raindrop splattering against the glass feels like a reminder of everything that's stuck, unmoving.

The soft noise of it was almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it was still no match for your wandering mind.

You’ve been finding yourself here a lot recently, shrouded in the scratchy sheets of your bed in the quiet dark encompassing your room, mind racing.

It was raining the first night he touched you.

You've been with Logan and Charles for nine months.

A runaway hitchhiker turned caretaker after you fled from the meaningless scraps of your life back in Texas.

Logan found you on the side of the highway coming back from a shift in El Paso. One stop with the hazards on and a hasty conversation through a rolled down window later, you were throwing your bags in the back of his limo and climbing into the front seat.

You didn't realize until much later that he never truly asked you to stay, or to care for Charles alongside him.

It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, a roof over your head in exchange for your help. Watch over his ailing father for a few days while he went out to get him more medicine, that's what you settled on.

Yet somehow, here you are, nine months later.

You cook meals in a dusty kitchen that always smells faintly of motor oil, listen to Charles’ stories about a world you’ll never fully grasp, and watch Logan patch himself up in grim silence after he’s returned from whatever trouble found him this time. 

It's strange how the days seemed to stretch endlessly, but the weeks have slipped past like a blink. You carved out a routine in this crumbling house in Sonora, built something that resembles a life even if it feels borrowed, like a second-hand coat that never quite fits right.

At first, you weren’t sure what kept you here. Maybe Charles. 

You warmed to him almost immediately, drawn in by his gentle demeanor and the way he seemed to see right through you without a hint of judgment. 

Even when his mind faltered, slipping into tangled memories or distant fragments of a life long past, he treated you with a kindness you hadn’t felt in years.

You’d come to think of him as a king, regal and noble. A king stripped of his castle, yet still wearing a crown, if ever so skewed—a king nonetheless.

You still aren’t sure, but you can’t shake the sense that leaving now would be like tearing off a scab—painful and unnecessary.

And then, one night, the rain came.

You remember it vividly, a torrent so sudden and unrelenting. The downpour soaking the dry dirt surrounding the plant. 

You couldn’t help yourself from wandering out, stood barefoot on the porch as the cool air nipped at the skin of your arms and legs.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standin’ out here.” Logan said from somewhere behind you, his voice rough and low after the silence of a long shift.

You hadn’t moved, hadn’t even glanced his way. “I like the rain.”

There was a beat of silence before he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. His hand had been hesitant at first, a brush of calloused fingers against your arm. 

You didn’t pull away.

The heat of his palm felt scalding, causing goosebumps to pebble along your damp skin. His thumb swiped across the circular scar just above your elbow, a cigarette burn, one of many.

He didn’t say anything as he turned and walked back into the house. You learned quickly that Logan’s not the type to fill silences with empty words, but you both knew something shifted.

He came into your room later that night. The squeaky mattress of your bed dipping under his weight as he slid his hand down your stomach, pausing just above the waistband of your shorts, a silent question.

He didn’t kiss you, but the rain pattering against the tin roof was enough to swallow your soft moans and gasps.

You settled into something undefined—a constant push and pull of need and silence. Logan touched you when he needed to, and you let him because you wanted to.

It wasn’t love, not then. It wasn’t even comfort. But it was connection. A tenuous thread in the quiet storm of your lives.

You figured that was enough.

The rain hasn't slowed. If anything, the howl of the wind is stronger than before.

The soothing rhythm of droplets hitting your window turned aggressively sharp, like darts thrown against a worn cork board.

The boom of thunder is nearly in sync with the pulse of your core, aching and insistent in its need.

It’s been weeks since Logan touched you last, his endless cycle of guilt stronger than it's been before. He’s never outright said it, but you know it’s there.

The silence between you both has stretched longer than you'd like to admit, a quiet that isn't comfortable anymore.

You know he’s got it in his head that he’s somehow taken advantage of you. A perverted old man falling weak to the pretty, young thing taking up space in the bed two doors over from him.

The thought stirs something deep within you, a mix of frustration and confusion. He’s not wrong, not exactly—but he’s not right either. You aren’t a child, and you aren’t helpless. You knew what you wanted, what you needed.

And that hasn’t dared to change.

You shift in bed, the sheets tangling around your legs as your body hums with a restlessness you can’t shake. The air in your room feels thick, charged, and suffocating, a mirror of the space between you and Logan.

He doesn’t understand that you want him too, that you weren’t some helpless thing to be protected or shielded from his darkness. It eats at you until your skin is practically buzzing with it, buzzing with the need to show him.

There’s only so much silence you can take before it becomes too loud to ignore. 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the hardwood cool against your bare feet. You know it’s late, but you don’t care.

You walk through the dimly lit hallway, the creak of the floorboards quiet under you as you make your way to Logan’s door. It’s cracked open, a yellow glow spilling through to guide you like a lighthouse guides its ships to shore.

When you reach the beat up wood you don’t hesitate, you push it open the slightest bit, peering through the widened gap. 

He’s there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know he knows you’re there.

You cross the threshold, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you pull the door shut behind you, leaning your back against it.

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice rougher than you intended.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The lamplight catches the sharp planes of his face, a familiar weariness etched into his features.

His fingers flex at his sides, and for a moment, you think he’s going to tell you to leave—to go back to your room where it’s safe, where you won’t make things more complicated than they already are. You almost brace for it.

But then he speaks.

“What’s wrong, kid.” His voice is nothing but a deep rumble, like gravel crunching underfoot.

You shrug noncommittally, hands messing with a stray thread hanging from the edge of your shorts. “Can’t sleep.”

Logan sighs long and slow through his nose, hands pressing into his thighs. “Thought you liked the rain.”

You smile faintly at the irony, chest swelling with something dangerous. 

You take a step further into the room, pushing yourself off the closed door. The familiar scent of him invades your senses. It’s a mixture of leather, earth, and something raw—something undeniably him. 

You stand there for a moment, letting the silence stretch thin and taut before you finally speak.

“Can I stay?” The words come out barely above a whisper, but they land like a crack of lightning.

You feel your heart thud painfully in your chest, not from fear, but from the sudden vulnerability that makes your skin burn.

The room feels smaller now, the walls pressing in as you step forward, each movement slow and deliberate. You stop at the edge of his bed, the sheets pressing against the bare skin of your thighs.

Logan’s gaze flickers over his shoulder, meeting yours briefly before he looks away again, like he’s trying to convince himself that the ache in his chest isn’t real.

“You should go back to bed,” he says, voice gruff. “It’s late.”

“I don’t want to go back.” You shake your head even though he isn’t turned around to see it.

Without thinking, you crawl onto the bed, the comforter making soft shushing sounds under your hands and knees. You reach out, fingers brushing the back of his neck, the muscles there tight with strain.

Logan flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away, and that’s all the permission you need.

You shift closer, pressing your chest against his back, and letting your hands settle on his shoulders. The heat between you is electric, charged with something unsaid, something raw and undeniable.

“Please,” you whisper, your lips brushing against the back of his ear, your voice a mixture of defiance and desire.

Logan stiffens, but this time, you feel the shudder that runs through him, the way his body responds despite the walls he’s built around himself.

You know he’s torn, that he wants to fight this. You feel it in the tension that radiates from him, in the way his body seems to be fighting against the instinct to turn toward you.

But you don’t care anymore. You’re done with silence.

Your fingers slide down his back, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt against your skin as you press yourself closer. Your breath is hot against his neck now, and you can feel the rapid pulse in his veins beneath your lips as you hover just above his skin, waiting.

“Logan…” Your voice is softer now, almost pleading. You don’t know what you’re asking for, but you don’t have to.

His hand comes up, brushing against your wrist as if testing, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into him further, your lips brushing the curve of his neck, whispering into the tension that still hangs heavy between you. “Please.”

The last shreds of Logan’s resistance snap under the cloying weight of your touch.

He’s moving before you can even register what’s happening, rearing up with heavy hands that land on your shoulders to push you backwards.

You fall back onto the bed with a soft gasp, bouncing on the mattress once, twice, before Logan follows. His body settles over yours like a warm blanket, thick forearms braced on either side of your head to support his weight.

"Why couldn't you sleep, honey?" he asks, dark eyes boring into yours intense enough to get your stomach churning. The green of them is deeper than normal, like fresh moss growing over stone.

“I was thinking,” you whisper, breathless. Your pulse races beneath your skin, you wonder distantly if he can hear it too.

“Thinkin’ about what?” he presses, breath fanning over your lips temptingly. 

Your brows furrow, a soft noise escaping you. You can't help but tell the truth. “About you.”

Logan hums, eyes trailing along your face slowly. He slots a knee between your thighs, groaning softly at the wet heat that seeps through to his jeans.

You gasp, hips bucking down instinctively. Your pussy aches desperately, leaking arousal into the cotton gusset of your panties.

His jaw clenches at the sound, muscle ticking just beneath the grey of his beard. “Is that right? You been layin' in that bed, thinkin' about me, gettin’ all worked up?"

Your face burns under his scrutiny, but you don’t shy away. You arch your back, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, letting the heat of your body speak for you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, the confession trembling on your lips. “I need you, it hurts.”

Logan exhales sharply, like the words knocked the air out of him. His hands slide from your shoulders, rough palms gliding down the skin of your arms before settling right under the swell of your breasts.

“Where’s it achin’, baby?” he asks softly, words almost getting lost in the dark of the room. “Show me.”

You let out a soft breath, reaching down to take his hand in yours.

Without breaking eye contact, you guide his hand down your trembling body until his palm rests over the apex of your thighs, where the damp fabric of your shorts clings to your swollen folds.

“Here,” you whisper, voice barely audible above the rain pounding against his window.

A low growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and his fingers press more firmly against you, feeling the slick heat that’s soaked through the thin cotton. His eyes darken further, the green almost swallowed by the black of his pupils.

Logan’s thumb drags over your clit, slow and deliberate, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice thick. “You’re drippin’ for me, aren’t you? Didn’t even need to touch you, and you’re already so fuckin’ wet.” 

You whimper softly, bucking your hips against his hand, desperate for more.

"I've been like this all night," you admit, your voice going high and needy. "Thinking about how good you make me feel. How much I want you."

Logan’s eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something new swirling through them, something you’ve never seen before.

A beat passes—too long—almost agonizing. His free hand lifts from your hip, gently cupping your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin, like he isn’t sure if he has the right to touch you like this. 

His thumb brushes your lip, his gaze flicking to your mouth before returning to your eyes, asking for permission, even though neither of you had ever really needed it before.

"Logan," you say, the sound a little breathless, unsure of how to navigate this sudden shift, but he doesn’t keep you waiting.

He closes the distance in a heartbeat, lips crashing into yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect.

It’s like the world around you falls away, leaving only the warmth of his lips, the taste of him, and the pressure of his body against yours. The raging storm outside dulling until it’s nothing but fuzzy background noise.

His kiss is rough, deep, urgent, but there’s something more in it, a slow unraveling. Like he’s trying to carve himself into you, a permanent mark, a reminder that he was here, even if he never says it out loud.

Logan tastes like rich smoke and whiskey, the sharp edge of him mixing with the sweet burn of need. It sends your head reeling, arms coming up to circle around his neck.

You can’t find the words to describe it, not with the way his fingers slide through the wetness gathering at your entrance, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your hips thrust upward, begging for more, your body hungry for the release he’s just out of reach of giving.

“Want you inside me, Logan,” you moan desperately, slick lips brushing his with every word. “Please.”

Logan's body stiffens against yours at the sound of your pleading, his grip tightening on your cheek like he's trying to anchor himself in the reality of what you're asking.

“Shit,” he growls under his breath, his forehead pressing to yours as he closes his eyes. His chest heaves, the tension in his body palpable. "I—" he pauses, struggling to form the words, but you can see it in his eyes. He's conflicted, desperate, yet still hesitant.

You move against him, your body restless, your need undeniable, feeling the rigid outline of his hard cock pressed firmly against your thigh. A thick plane of heat that has your pussy clenching around the tips of his fingers.

You don’t want to push him, not anymore. But you’re past the point of waiting for permission.

Your lips meet his again, softer this time, coaxing, until he finally gives in, groaning against your mouth as he kisses you back with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I want to feel you,” you whisper, your hands trailing down to the hem of his shirt, pushing it over the swell of his pecs. 

His skin is hot under your fingertips, rough and familiar. Your fingers trail lightly across his chest, nails scratching through the salt and pepper hair dusted across his skin as you urge him closer.

“Just the tip,” Logan mutters under his breath, barely above a whisper. His voice hoarse, like he’s bargaining with himself. “Just to make you feel good, but that’s it, understand?”

You bite your lip, the edge of frustration gnawing at you. It’s not everything you need, not everything you want, but it's something. And right now, it’s enough.

You nod your head, hands already moving to the front of his jeans. You undo the button with shaking fingers, tugging the zipper down and pushing the worn denim away. 

His cock springs free, already hard, leaking with the same desperation you feel. You run your fingers along his length, feeling the heat of him, the steady throb of his pulse.

Logan peels down the thin layer of your shorts, cursing under his breath when he finds you completely bare underneath, your slick pussy shining under the dim light.

You watch him, chest heaving, as he stares down at you—his eyes dark and full of something primal, something raw.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the outline of your wetness. He groans low in his throat, his thumb circling your clit once before moving down, dipping inside you just barely. “You’re perfect, baby.”

“Logan,” you whine, thighs spreading in a clear invitation. You patience is running exceedingly thin, your whole body alight with the feeling of a raging forest fire

“I know,” he mutters, placating. He takes the throbbing length of his cock in his hand, swiftly settling between your legs. “I know.”

The thick head drags through your folds, smearing pre-come along your skin and adding even more to the mess between your legs.

A quiet moan passes through your swollen lips, your muscles tightening as he slides himself along your clit. A slow back and forth movement that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Logan grits his teeth, his breath shallow, as he finally aligns himself with your clenching hole. 

The air around you feels charged, a taut thread stretched between anticipation and restraint. You shift your hips slightly, just enough to encourage him, your eyes locked on his as you beg him silently with your gaze.

Then, with a low growl that vibrates through you, he pushes forward, just enough to make you gasp in relief, the head of his cock sliding home in your entrance.

And though it’s only the tip, the sensation of him inside you is enough to set your world alight. 

You can feel it, deep in your bones—the simmering, searing heat that makes everything else fade into the background.

Logan presses his lips to your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as he keeps his movements slow, deliberate, his hands holding your hips steady. "This is what you wanted, huh? Got you begging for it, honey," he growls softly. "Even if I’m only givin’ you a taste."

His hips roll languidly, staying true to his word and never sinking deeper than the thick head of his cock. His hand grips the base tightly, his fist fucking slow strokes over the length of himself to where he’s spreading your pussy open.

His scarred knuckles bump against your clit with every stroke, fanning the fire building in your lower stomach.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, honey,” he groans into the skin of your neck, the pace of his hips speeding up ever so slightly. “Feels like heaven.”

You claw at the skin of his back, touch wild and desperate. It takes everything in you not to shift your hips down, to sheath the rest of his cock deep inside your and lock your ankles around his back so he can never leave again.

Logan’s lips find your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he shifts against you. “Tell me you want this,” he says, his voice low, almost a command, yet laced with something tender. “Tell me you want me.”

You meet his gaze without hesitation, your voice steady despite the tremble in your chest. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” 

The words come out without thought, raw and honest, and you see something in his eyes shift—a flicker of relief, of something deeper than lust.

Logan groans like he got shot, his body shuddering above you as a low growl tears its way from his chest. He fucks into you faster, short, quick thrusts that steal all the breath from your lungs.

Sparks go off behind your closed eyes, bright white and glittering. You can feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling as you grind up against him, meeting him halfway, needing more, needing release.

“Logan,” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders harder, nails digging in. “I’m so close. Please—”

“Let go,” he growls, his pace increasing, his body pressing harder against yours. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With his command, you unravel, the world spinning around you as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air, your body quivering beneath him as he holds you through it.

Logan follows, tearing himself from the tight grip of your pussy with a sharp jerk of his hips, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he shoots thick ropes of come over your slick folds.

Your body shakes at the feeling, a breathless whimper pulled from your slack lips at the sticky warmth of his release.

He collapses onto the mattress next to you, his body shuddering enough to match your own. The room falls into a deep silence, the only sounds your mingling breaths and the distant sound of thunder.

A sick sort of dread bursts through the sweet afterglow of your hazy mind, settling in your stomach like a lead weight. You think that this is the moment where Logan will realize what you’ve done, that he’ll retreat back into himself and send you away.

Send you back to your own room and leave you to lay in the cold aftermath of your own recklessness.

You brace for it, the instinct to pull away, to protect yourself from his withdrawal, but it never comes. 

Instead, you feel his strong arm slide over your waist, pulling you closer, his body heat a stark contrast to the chill creeping in from the window.

His breath is warm against your neck as he shifts, his fingers tracing absent circles on your skin in a move that’s so endearingly human it has your chest aching.

"Stay here tonight?" he asks, his voice rough, almost a whisper.

Your heart clenches, tears burning at your waterline at the vulnerability of his tone. It breaks the dam inside you, relief and something dangerously close to love flooding your body in a bursting rush of water.

“Of course,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

Logan’s hand tightens around you, his thumb brushing over your ribs. He presses a soft kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder, settling onto the mattress with a slow breath.

You drift to sleep more relaxed than you’ve felt in years, even with the knowledge of the slow journey that lies ahead of you. It won’t be easy, it never is with Logan. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Because even though the rain falls, the desert doesn’t bloom overnight. 

And neither do you.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[waitimcomingtoo]

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[joelmillerisapunk]

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

[meazalykov]

battle of the blood

esmee brugts x reader x sister!OC

summary: el clásico gets the best of your emotions

warnings: childhood trauma, strained family relationship, angst, swearing, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, long chapter, I know esmee started during this el clasico but I changed it for the plot.. please be warned.

oc: your sister's name is isla, you can make up her face claim

as one of the best defenders in the world at 21, you remind everyone why you’ve earned that title, having faced some of the world’s best forwards and come out on top. 

you love football, its your entire life, but there’s something else that was added to that: 

your girlfriend, esmee.

esmee, who came to barcelona in 2023, is your love. her presence makes everything feel right, and you can’t help but smile whenever you see her at all. you remember the day she arrived, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the hint of nervousness as she stepped into her new life. 

it was the start of something beautiful—not just for her, but for you too. you had been searching for something deeper, and there she was.

being with esmee has awakened a side of you that had been dormant, buried beneath the pressures you’ve had throughout your entire life. 

during training sessions, the intensity can be overwhelming. despite the urgency of it all, esmee is always there. she makes your heart race, not just from the adrenaline of the sport, but from the love you have for her. when you catch her gaze from across the training pitch, it’s as if time slows down. 

the world around you fades away, and all you see is her.

in those fleeting moments, you can’t help but sneak in quick hugs, a brief escape from the tiredness of training. yes, you keep things professional in front of the public but the team adores the mutual love you have for eachother. 

esmee giggles, a sound that sparks warmth in your chest, but you can see the hints of nervousness creeping into her demeanor. her teammates, playful and lively, often tease her, and while you know it’s all in good fun, you can’t help but feel protective of her. 

when the world gets too loud, esmee knows how to bring you back down to earth. she asks about your day, your plans, anything really, and in those moments of vulnerability, something you weren’t granted as a child.. you find peace. 

you cherish the little things, like the way she plays with your hair or how she leans her head against your shoulder, finding safety in your presence. mosttimes, when the pressures of life seem too heavy, you sit together in silence, holding hands and blocking the world away. 

evenings spent together often find you curled up on the couch, watching your favorite shows, stealing kisses during the best parts, or sharing popcorn as you giggle at the most ridiculous moments. these are the times that reaffirmed your belief in love.

a few months into your relationship with esmee, an undeniable comfort settled between you two. you realized that the walls you had built around your heart were slowly coming down, allowing her in. 

those late-night conversations that once danced around the surface now floated into deeper waters. you acted in certain ways that made esmee knew that you had a difficult past, but she never questioned you about it. she would never force you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. 

one evening, while sitting on your cozy balcony, the barcelona street lights twinkling below, you felt compelled to open up about something that had long weighed on you.

“esmee,” you began, your voice just above a whisper, 

“you know my sister, isla?” the light from the street below caught the glint of curiosity in her eyes. she nodded, already aware of that fact but eager to hear more. 

“we don’t really get along,” you continued, almost wanting to laugh since your words were  an understatement. 

esmee leaned closer, her expression shifting to one of concern. 

“i get that, but… what happened?” her gentle prompt encouraged you to delve deeper. you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to share the truth.

“it’s not just sibling rivalry, esmee,” you began, your heart pounding. 

“it’s… it’s more complicated than that. when we were kids, isla was never really nice to me. she would tease me, and I tried to brush it off, but it was relentless. as we got older, it turned into something darker.” 

esmee’s brow furrowed, and you could see the flicker of concern in her eyes. 

“what do you mean?” she asked softly, her voice steady but filled with empathy.

“there was this one time,” you recalled, the memories flooding back with clarity. 

“we were in the field, just playing football during one of the days that we didn’t have practice back at my childhood club, then, out of nowhere, she just… snapped. she started pushing me, calling me names, she beat me up then started saying I’d never be as good as her.” 

your voice trembled as you continued. 

“that was just the start. it got worse. she’d corner me, taunt me. when my parents weren't home, she would always beat me up. its not like they would have cared since they were never around but isla alway reminded me that I would never be her.” 

esmee’s hand found yours, her grip tightening slightly as if to reinforce the bond you shared. 

“y/n, I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her eyes glistening with understanding. 

“that’s awful. no one should have to go through that, especially from your sister.” 

the weight of your confession felt heavy yet liberating. as you spoke, you worried that it might shift her perception of you, but her unwavering gaze reassured you. 

“it’s been hard for me to reconcile those memories,” you admitted. 

“i wish she would snap out of it, be the sister I always wanted. but every time I think about confronting my past, about talking to her, it’s like that darkness just pulls me back.”

“you have every right to feel how you feel,” esmee replied, her voice a soothing balm against the turmoil inside you. 

“sometimes letting go is the healthiest choice. it’s okay to put distance between you and someone who brings you pain.” 

in your mind you had esmee’s love, and that was more than enough. 

when isla transferred to real madrid from aston villa back in august, it sent shockwaves through the football community, but for you, y/n, it was merely a confirmation of what you had always known. everyone expected the announcement to create an excitment among you, with commentators dissecting every angle, but you felt strangely detached. after all, you had long ago come to terms with the reality of your relationship—or lack thereof—with isla.

most people suspect that you and isla aren’t close at all, and they’re right. the truth is, you don’t even follow each other on social media. it’s not an oversight; it’s a deliberate choice. you’ve both carved out your own professional existences in the world of football, but the disconnect runs far deeper than just career paths. 

when isla’s name surfaces in interviews, you always say, ���she’s my sister,” but even that feels like a hollow statement. it’s the only phrase you can utter without spiraling into a torrent of emotions that wouldn’t be conducive to your public image. 

your pr team constantly reminds you to keep it professional, advising you to avoid any personal comments that could lead to negative speculation. they know the rumors swirl, that fans are eager to dissect what must be some family drama. 

they think it’s just sibling rivalry or jealousy. if only they knew the truth—that isla’s presence in your life had been more harmful than supportive, and that your silence is more a shield than a statement.

as the media continues to pair your names together, it’s irritating to reflect on the fact that you’re linked by blood and talent, yet worlds apart in spirit. you wish you could express how isla’s competitive edge always crossed the line into emotional and physical abuse, how the shadows of your childhood still loom large, how her triumphs feel like a stark reminder of your own struggles. 

for now, those words remain locked away, buried under layers of professional decorum and public expectations of barcelona players.

as el clasico approached, you felt your mood souring more and more each day. anticipation crackled in the air like a thousand tiny static shocks. for you, it felt heavy, oppressive—a cloud she couldn’t shake off. 

the usual buzz of excitement that surrounded the biggest match in football felt muted, as if you were standing behind a glass wall, watching everyone else thrive in the moment while you grappled with your own turmoil. 

only a handful of people on the team seemed to understand why your demeanor had shifted so noticeably. esmee was one of them—brash and spirited, always ready to sprinkle a bit of humor to lighten the mood, yet deeply empathetic when it came to your struggles. 

esmee had a sixth sense for when y/n was struggling. alexia, as captain, also had a deep understanding of the weight y/n’s situation with isla. she’d made sure to keep conversations about family issues to a minimum during training sessions. 

the rest of the team suspected something was off, but they respected y/n’s space, choosing not to pry or gossip. 

“things will be okay, y/n,” esmee reassured her you afternoon, giving a supportive squeeze to your waist after the conversation of el clasico was brough up. 

“we’ll get through madrid together. we’ll play the full 90 minutes and then come back to barcelona. you won’t have to see isla again until march.” 

despite the attempt at comfort, y/n felt her heart sink. she appreciated esmee’s sentiment, but the thought only compounded her feelings of dread. 

“i didn’t see her for three years when she was at aston villa,” y/n muttered, frustration clawing at her chest. 

“why did she have to come to madrid? it’s like she’s intentionally making my life worse.” 

y/n had achieved her success in her own right, yet every time she saw isla on the edge of the pitch, posing for photos or congratulating teammates, y/n felt herself slipping back into the background. the knot in her stomach twisted tighter, amplifying her anxiety. do any of those people know that isla is an abuser? do they know that she used to beat up her younger sister until her hands started to hurt too much? probably not. 

“c’mon, y/n, try to see the positives,” esmee urged, attempting to pull her friend from the dark place lingering in her thoughts. 

“this is your chance to show madrid what you’re made of! i know you’re a defender but maybe we can get a goal out of you!.” 

you forced a laugh with a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. the idea of stepping onto the pitch, with thousands of eyes watching you—not only as part of barcelona but in direct comparison to isla—sent your mind spiraling. 

what if you didn’t perform well? what if your sister outshines you? 

you had wanted to have this magical moment as a pro player without isla looming in the background, always casting a lengthy shadow over your achievements.

“look, why not make this game about us?” esmee continued, trying to penetrate y/n’s wall of anxiety. 

“play for the team, for each other. we’re going to have fun! it’s el clasico! if anything, we should be excited! forget about isla.” 

it was hard for you to forget, very hard. how could you? memories of childhood flashed through your mind: the abuses, the times when isla’s achievements always overshadowed your own spark. it felt like being trapped in a cycle she couldn’t escape. 

you remembered celebrating each of your own milestones quietly, while isla was surrounded by adoring friends and admiring coaches. 

taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you felt a flicker of determination ignite within you. esmee was right about one thing: it was important to rely on your teammates, the women who had stood by your side through victories and losses alike.

perhaps, if you reframed your perspective, you could focus on what you could control rather than the shadows of your past.

as training sessions progressed, it became harder for you to keep your emotions in check. every exercise, every drill, became a mental obstacle course. the tension built up not just for you but for the entire team. they were gearing up for a match that was not only an opportunity to prove themselves against their fiercest rivals, but also a chance for you to confront some demons that had followed you into the present.

the morning of el clásico broke in madrid, sunlight streaming through the hotel room window, illuminating every corner and filling the air with an electric energy. 

“hey, sleepyhead! wake up! it’s match day!” kika chirped, her voice bright and cheerful as she moved around the room, throwing a pillow on your sleepy head.

you couldn’t help but wake up and smile at her enthusiasm, though the knot in your stomach tightened a little more.

“morning,” you replied, stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the vibrant posters of barcelona hung on the walls, a reminder of the mission ahead.

 “did you sleep at all?”

“of course! i had this amazing dream about scoring the winning goal,” kika laughed, her excitement contagious.

you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of that same energy, even as your mind drifted back to other thoughts.

“i barely slept. too many thoughts,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing on your shoulders.

“about isla?” kika guessed, her tone shifting to something more understanding. you nodded, your heart sinking a little at the mention of her name. 

the reminder of being in the starting lineup sent a mix of nerves through you. as you and kika finished getting ready, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

you looked focused, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of longing for the comfort of esmee’s arms. it was hard not to wish you could have a moment away from the pressure, to feel the warmth and safety of your partner’s embrace. 

“let’s head down for breakfast,” kika suggested, sensing your distraction. you nodded, knowing that you needed to center yourself and prepare for the day ahead. the atmosphere in the dining room was buzzing with excitement, the smell of coffee and fresh pastries filling the air.

as you entered, the chatter of your teammates surrounded you, their laughter and energy infectious. you settled at the table, and soon the conversation turned toward the madrid lineup. your heart raced as they mentioned isla's name, and you felt the knot in your stomach clench tighter. 

“of course, they’ll have isla,” mapi said, a slight edge of playful rivalry in her voice. 

“she’s one of their best forwards. should be fun trying to keep her in check.” 

“fun,” you murmured, trying to smile. inside, you felt a mix of admiration and jealousy, an emotional tug-of-war that blurred the line between sibling rivalry and personal ambition. 

“we’ll handle it,” frido chimed in, trying to lift the mood.

as breakfast came to an end, you took a moment to reflect on everything swirling in your head. thoughts raced as you prepared to head to the stadium, the enormity of the day dawning on you. 

this wasn’t just another game; it was el clásico. you would be facing isla, your biological sister.

"you ready?" mapi asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement, oblivious to the storm inside you. you forced a smile, nodding tightly as the whistle blew, marking the beginning of el clásico. 

you quickly tucked your worries to the back of your mind, focusing on the game ahead.

as you maneuvered up the pitch, you could hear your teammates calling for the ball. aitana had it, and you made your way toward her, preparing to receive the pass. just as you felt the rhythm starting to flow through you, a figure rushed at you, and adrenaline kicked in. 

at the last moment, you spotted that familiar silhouette, but it was too late. 

you managed to push the ball to caro just in time, but the force of the collision pushed you back slightly. steadying yourself, you took a quick look only to realize it was isla. instinct kicked in, and you pushed her away from you. 

"don’t push me!" she snapped, her tone a mix of irritation.

“i just did!” you shot back, your heart racing as your blood boiled. you could feel the heat of her presence instantly igniting all those old wounds. 

“whatever, just wait until the end my little sister. I hope your teammates are ready to pick up the pieces when you fall apart.”

the exchange hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze as the intensity of the game continued around you. you fought to push out the old memories of isolation and hurt, taut and angry.

“not today, isla,” you muttered under your breath, refocusing on the game, trying to shake off the encounter. deep down, you knew this game was about more than football; it was about proving to yourself and to her that you were no longer the scared girl she once abused. 

you were a force to be reckoned with—a player in your own right.

 

isla shot you a dirty look before returning to her position, the tension prickled in the air. you forced yourself to breathe through it, channeling the storm of emotions into energy for the game. 

ignoring her felt like a mini victory, and you strived to sink back into the rhythm of the match.

the chaos of the field surrounded you—the shouts from your teammates, the roar of the crowd, the pounding of feet on the grass. 

with a swift glance up the pitch, you saw patri breaking through the defense. it was now or never. positioning yourself perfectly, you lifted your foot and sent a precise cross sailing through the air. everything slowed down as you watched the ball arc toward her. 

in the glorious moment that followed, patri met it with her head, sending it soaring into the back of the net. 

“vammoooss!” you shouted, adrenaline exploding through you as the crowd erupted in cheers. overwhelmed with joy, you sprinted toward patri, 

your heart racing. when you reached her, you jumped onto her back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in a triumphant embrace.

“what a header!” you laughed, squeezing her tightly as she hoisted you up effortlessly. the bond you shared with patri was one of the deepest you had on the team too.

“you played it perfectly!” she beamed, her smile contagious.

the second half kicked off, and when esmee came on, you felt a rush of excitement. she was not just your girlfriend but she was an excellent player. as you positioned yourself on the right wing, you watched with anticipation as esmee was on the left.

suddenly, the joy of the moment was shattered. without warning, isla charged toward esmee, pushing her hard at full force when the dutch girl had the ball. you felt your stomach drop as you witnessed the blatant foul unfold right in front of you. 

esmee hit the ground with a thud, disbelief written all over her face as she looked up at the referee. the whistle blew, but to your disgust, isla received only a simple yellow card.

“that should’ve been a fucking red card…” you mumbled to yourself, unable to hold back the frustration bubbling up within you. you were furious—not just at the referee’s poor judgment but also at the way your sister exploited the situation. 

it was conscious and cruel, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as your fists clenched at your sides.

mapi, who was close enough to overhear, giggled softly, sensing your ire. 

“I think we all saw that, you know?” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. you shot her a glance, half amused but still seething. 

“not funny,” you replied sharply, trying to keep your focus on the game. you could see esmee slowly getting up, shaking her head in disbelief as she brushed off the grass on her legs. 

a mix of sadness and anger welled within you—it wasn’t just a foul; it was a reminder of how your sister’s actions affected not just you, but your loved ones as well.

it was hard to shake off the fight in your chest. the thought that isla was playing dirty, particularly against someone you cared about, burned intensely. you glanced back at esmee, who shrugged off the hit.

shortly after, the game continued.

the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch as the clock ticked down to the 87th minute. barcelona had just scored their fourth goal, courtesy of alexia, and the crowd erupted in cheers that reverberated around the pitch. 

just when you thought the game was stabilizing, hell broke loose in a way you never anticipated.

isla broke past ingrid as if she were a mere hurdle, her focus unyielding as she made a reckless dash toward the goal. in that split second, your heart raced—not in excitement, but in horror. that familiar cocktail of hatred and anger surged through you, overwhelming all rational thought. 

you weren’t just standing by anymore; you were compelled to act, to protect what was rightfully yours on the field.

without a second thought, you lunged forward at full speed, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you executed the fastest and cleanest side tackle imaginable. your body struck the ground, sliding into her with precision. isla flew away from the ball, sent sprawling across the pitch as your foot sent it careening toward the crowd, safely out of harm’s way.

the satisfying thud of your tackle felt like a victory, but it was short-lived. as you stood up, energy still crackling in your limbs, you felt a rush of pride—until that pride morphed into a tension that shadowed the field.

isla sprang to her feet, standing right in front of you with rage bubbling in her eyes.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” she spat, invading your personal space, her face a mask of anger and disbelief. her breath was heavy, and you could see the seething hatred reflected in her dark gaze.

you pushed back, adrenaline mingling with defiance. “i’m the one who stopped you from making a fool of yourself! that was a pathetic run!” you felt empowered, knowing you had thwarted her attempt to score, and relished the moment of victory. 

isla laughed bitterly, her voice slicing through the chaos around you. “pathetic? look who’s talking!” 

“you’re a joke, isla! you always have been!” 

“joke?” she echoed, her mouth twisting into a sneer. 

“at least i’m not the one who needs to prove myself every time i step on this field. everyone knows what a failure you are!” the venom in her words stung, and her face was a twisted mirror of the anger that coursed through you.

“maybe if you spent less time abusing people and more time focusing on your own game, you wouldn’t be in this position right now!” you responded, the heat of the moment making you bold. your gaze locked onto hers, refusing to break contact, as if the intensity could somehow ward off her next assault.

“you think this is about me?” isla laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. 

“this is about you, desperate to be seen, desperate for validation!" the derision in her voice felt like a blade, piercing the surface of your confidence.

“this is so fucking hilarious, you’re scared!” you shot back, your voice shaking but resolute. 

“scared that if you lost, you wouldn’t know who you are anymore. you’re obsessed with proving you're the best, shit you abused me for years and that wasn’t enough, maybe you should’ve killed me isla!”

“look at you! the fact that you’re still here makes me sick!” isla ignores what you said, failing to admit her abuse towards you.

“you’re such a bitch, thinking you could go to barcelona and think you’re hot shit—” 

“says the one who chose madrid of all teams, look at your team with zero goals!!” you snapped immaturely, the words spilling out before you could even catch yourself. 

cata tried to pull you away from your sister for the last twenty seconds, but it was no use; your anger suddenly surged, fueling a strength that felt almost uncontrollable. 

at that moment, everything around you turned into a blur as adrenaline surged through your veins.

alexia had noticed the commotion and began to move toward you, determination etched on her face. 

“leave her alone!” athenea shouted at you, stepping between you and your sister.

“score a goal then come back to me, you bitch,” you shot back, your voice laced with defiance as you metaphorically swatted athenea away like she was an annoying fly. 

“don’t speak to her like that!” your sister yelled, pushing you.

the crowd around you watched in shock, drawn into the escalating drama, whispers and gasps cutting through the din of the match.

suddenly, both teams surrounded you, players from both sides trying to break up the heated argument. tensions flared further as a few of your teammates exchanged barbs with madrid players, the atmosphere thick with hostility. 

the referee rushed in to maintain order, but you and your sister remained locked in a fierce gaze, hatred radiating off you like heat from a fire.

“i haven’t seen you in three years—what the fuck? you know what? you’re hopeless. you’ve always been the one holding everyone back! shit, you guys would’ve been up to six if you didn’t make those mistakes you did!!!” isla spat.

“you’re pathetic, isla. maybe shut up and stop pretending you’re even close to being good enough. maybe try watching your balance next time?” you shot back, the memory of the side tackle you had executed flashing before your eyes, where she had fallen face-first into the grass.

“do you think anyone actually believes in you at barcelona? i don't, and i’m positive your captain doesn’t either!” isla laughed, the sound harsh and mocking, as if your words were nothing more than a joke to her. 

“you don’t know me, you don’t know y/n, and what happens at barcelona, go away!” alexia shouted, her voice cutting through the chaotic atmosphere as she rushed towards you, clearly infuriated by what had just transpired. 

she pulled you away from the escalating confrontation, her grip firm and protective, while olga carmona was busy dragging isla away, separating the two of you in a tangle of emotions and disbelief.

as the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, the rush of emotions hit you like a tidal wave—embarrassment, anger, sadness, and confusion twisted together in an overwhelming torrent. 

your heart raced, every beat echoing your thoughts over and over: why did your sister hate you so much? yes, you had initiated the encounter with a side tackle, but it was just a game! a competition, something you had always loved, something that was supposed to bring joy. 

yet, here you were, feeling like a stranger in your own life, treated as though you were the villain in a twisted narrative that belonged to Isla.

deep down, you knew you weren’t the evil one. it was Isla—the sister who once had control over your life through years of emotional and physical abuse. the memories rushed back, uninvited and unwelcome, as you thought about the day you finally managed to escape at 16, signing with la masia and vowing to break free from the darkness that had enveloped your childhood. 

you had fought tooth and nail to build a life away from that pain, so why, after all these years, did she still hold such a powerful grip over your emotions?

the anger began to bubble to the surface, fierce and unyielding, igniting sparks of determination within you. you promised yourself you would never let anyone, least of all her, treat you like that ever again. yet with that anger came an undercurrent of sadness, an ache that resonated deeper than you wanted to admit. 

you realized, more painfully than ever, that you didn’t know your sister anymore—this Isla was a stranger in your life, and yet the years of shared history felt like a heavy weight pressing down on both of you. how had this happened? it felt surreal, standing on this battlefield of memories past, both of you reduced to adversaries when you should have been allies.

watching teammates embrace amid cheers and celebrations around you, you began to feel profoundly isolated. their laughter rang in your ears like a mocking reminder of the bond you once had with Isla, a bond that was now fractured, strained by the years of resentment and pain that simmered beneath the surface. 

it was as if you were caught in some cruel twist of fate, living out a nightmare where your family ties had turned into shackles, binding you to a painful legacy.

questions raced through your mind like a whirlwind: was there any hope for repair? could you ever bridge the chasm that had formed between you? every thought pulled you deeper into the confusion of your feelings, and you wondered if healing was even possible after so much trauma. 

the night wrapped its heavy cloak around madrid, its bustling streets still alive with the echoes of celebration and the collective energy of the crowd. bright lights illuminated the cobblestones, but inside the dimly lit bus, you felt completely enveloped in darkness.

the soft chatter of ecstatic teammates faded as you made your way to the farthest back seats, seeking solitude and privacy in the midst of a chaotic victory.

as you settled into the back corner, you pulled your hoodie over your eyes, the fabric a barrier from the vibrant world outside. your chest felt tight, a vice slowly tightening with each breath. the floodgates opened, and tears streamed unabated down your cheeks. 

you couldn’t remember the last time you had cried like this, where each sob felt like a physical release, an expulsion of the pain that had been building inside for years. the laughter and joy of your teammates were a distant hum, far removed from the anguish that churned in your heart. even in your secluded corner, memories of your fractured relationship with Isla rushed over you, relentless waves that threatened to pull you under.

“you don’t have a sister. you don’t have a sister,” echoed in your mind, each repetition stinging sharper than the last. the thought sank deep, raw and brutal, leaving you feeling utterly unmoored.

as you rested your head against the cool glass of the window, gazing out at the blurred lights of the city, the world outside became a mere backdrop to your inner turmoil. you could hear muffled conversations, the exuberant energy radiating from your teammates—a stark contrast to your spiraling emotions. 

the victory that had once been something to celebrate now felt meaningless in the face of the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

just then, the door creaked open on the bus, and vicky stepped in. she was still glowing from the game, her face alight with enthusiasm, but that expression quickly faded when she spotted you in the back. 

concern etched itself across her features, and her heart sank. she could see from the shadows of your hoodie and the position of your body—hunched and closed off—that you were in distress. overwhelmed, vicky turned on her heel and dashed back out of the bus, seeking out esmee, who stood chatting at the entrance with ellie.

“esmee! y/n is on the bus crying,” vicky mumbled, urgency lacing her words. the concern in her voice was palpable; she wanted to keep the team from overwhelming you, sensing how raw your emotion was and how much space you needed.

esmee felt her stomach twist at vicky's words. she had watched you take that fateful departure from the group, and it had left her heart heavy. she knew you better than most, knew when you needed to be left alone and when you needed someone to pull you back from the edge of despair. 

without hesitation, she scooped her things into her bag and sprinted past vicky, urgency pushing her feet to move faster.

the bus interior was dim, the only light provided by the streetlamps outside the window. it was quiet and still, a place where vulnerability thrived. esmee's heart raced as she stepped onto the bus, drawn immediately to the haunting softness of your cries. 

approaching you cautiously, she felt a pang of sadness pool in her chest. settling down across the aisle from you, she could now see the crumpled sleeve you were using as a tissue.

“y/n,” she whispered softly, her voice barely breaking the silence between the two of you. you didn’t respond, lost in the storm of your emotions. esmee took a deep breath, grounding herself as she tried to navigate this delicate moment. 

“can I sit with you?”

the slight shift in your posture told her it was okay. she moved into the seat right next to you, close enough to feel your warmth without infringing on your space. you still kept your eyes fixed on the streaks of light melting into the darkness beyond the window.

“it’s really okay to cry, baby,” esmee said gently, her tone soothing and patient. it was a balm for your frayed nerves, and for a moment, you blinked through the haze of tears. 

“I’m right here with you. you’re not alone.”

you drew a shaky breath, but the tears kept coming. it felt too heavy to be cradled alone in this storm of feelings. esmee reached forward, resting her hand on the empty seat between you, her fingers subtly inviting closeness. 

“I can’t take what you’re feeling away for you,” she continued softly, 

“but I can sit here with you while you feel it. it’s okay to not be okay.” esmee stays realistic. 

the tenderness of her words seeped into the crevices of your heart, and for the first time, you glanced towards her. her eyes were filled with concern, a deep and genuine empathy that made something inside you shift. 

the warmth of her gaze encouraged you to speak, to let out the words you had been holding tight within.

“it’s just… everything,” you managed to choke out between sobs, your voice breaking as the weight of the years spilled from your lips. 

“Isla… everything that happened at the end of the game, everything.”

esmee nodded, completely attuned to your pain. 

“I know it’s changing everything you thought you understood about things. It’s like a dark cloud, isn’t it?” she said, her gaze unwavering as she leaned closer, conveying both solidarity and strength. 

with gentle resolve, esmee shifted a fraction closer, and as if sensing your need for comfort, she brushed her hand against your back, the soft contact grounding and familiar as you lean against her chest. 

it felt as if she was sending warmth through that simple gesture, wrapping you in the safety of her presence. you blinked at her, your tears mixing with the warmth that slowly began to settle in your chest.

“i hate her.” you mumbled. 

“i can see why,” esmee understood. 

esmee gently placed her hand on your waist, her fingers squeezing lightly as if to remind you she was there, physically and emotionally. 

as the tears poured forth, each drop carrying away a piece of your pain, a piece of the suffocating grief that had held you captive for so long, it felt easier to breathe. esmee didn’t shy away from the gravity of what you were feeling; instead, she leaned in closer, her presence a steadfast beacon. 

the familiarity of her touch ignited a sense of safety, drawing you just a bit closer to the shore after feeling lost at sea for so long.

“let it all out,” she encouraged, brushing her thumb softly over the back of your hand that rested limply in your lap. it was a gentle caress that seemed to wipe away some of your doubts, a silent promise that you were moments away from finding solace in companionship. 

“nobody’s judging you here, I promise.”

you clung to her hand, feeling an unexpected safety in that small gesture.the tears continued to flow, but rather than a dam holding them back, it felt like a river running its course, tearing along and removing the debris of old pain.

esmee did not shy away from the intimacy of the moment; she was your shelter from the turmoil, absorbing your sorrow alongside you.

“no one has to know we’re having a moment,” esmee teased gently, her playful spirit shining through despite the gravity of the situation. she added a smirk, trying to raise the corners of your mouth into a semblance of a smile. 

you couldn’t help but chuckle at her light-hearted attempt to coax you from the shadows. laughter bubbled up from the depths of your throat—tentative at first, but it felt slightly like sunlight breaking through the clouds. 

“I might be too emotional for this team,” you replied, your voice still thick with emotion but softened by humor.

“at least we have each other to be emotional with,” esmee offered with sincerity, squeezing your hand gently before letting it settle back on your thigh, a touch that was both supportive and grounding.

as you both sat in the quiet of the bus, the soft sounds of the city thrumming outside, you found solace in the physical closeness and the shared silence after esmee’s words. 

you might not have your biological family, but you have found your family at barcelona. 

masterlist

[solar4seekstron]

IDW!Kup x Cybertronian!Decepticon!GN!Reader Oneshot: Sparkmates

Content: 18+. You and Kup are couple goals. Before and during the war.

TW/Tags: Angst, wholesome moments, (Heavily) implied sex, (fake) death, blood, Kup is my robot husband I was living my dream writing this ok sue me, mild cursing, war, Deadlock is an asshole, Super long chapter. I believe that’s all?? (I changed a bit of lore- sort of to fit the story. I hope you guys can still enjoy!!!!!

Long, long before the war. You were a warrior you trained in mastery of swords. Although you also know how to use guns.

You also knew how to use swords. That being one of your main weapons besides your blasters. You have been around for a good while. Known by many to always have a smile on your dermas and narrowed optics to give you a softer look with your yellow optics.

You were a pretty tall bot as well. Being only a few inches shorter then Kup.

Understanding and mastering most weapons. Guns or not. Even at times working with making guns alongside bots like Hound. You were a pretty strong bot. Having a well built frame and a few small features.

Both being agile but strong. Not too bulky as you had a sort of knight look at some parts of your frame. (Almost like Rodimus in Animated. Just imagine that frame in IDW).

Before the war. You were once known for working along side your Sire Yoketron as he trains younger bots to protect theirselves.

One day when visiting Hound. You met him…Kup.

And boy were things different since then for the both of you. At the time he wasn’t an old bot who smoked and grumbled over everything as he worked under Optimus. He was a lot younger of course. His winkles having no existence at the time as he had a lot more life in him. Well that’s a lot more visible. (Think like a stereotypical hot college guy lol)

You two would eventually start chatting and before you both knew it. You both bonded. After Kup spent some time winning your Sire over for approval.

You always encouraging him to keep going forward and to show your sire his determination.

You two would then learn to except each others interest more and points of views over time. Then…on one faithful day….

He popped the question. Your courtship starting and before you knew it. You both were bonded.

But like most good things. It must come to an end.……

One day when in his apartment. Kup was going to ask you to join him and the Autobots. But when you returned speaking of your point of view with the decepticons. You two realized. You both were on a different path.

It was heartbreaking. But you both agreed to not hurt each other if you both can help it if your paths should ever cross….

You both couldn’t hold in your tears that night as you both left for war.

And so years went by. Before you knew it, its been millions of years. You were able to age slower thanks to the meditation and calmness of your nature. Not to mention how well you took care of yourself when not training and in battle.…

At times at least. Many decepticons throughout the years have tried to win your heart as you don’t seem older as most would expect you to be. Not to mention you skill and strong yet soft personality. Always having stories to tell.

Something that catches many by surprise. And the way you handle things even is also part of why other bots and femmes grow feelings for you. But you always end up as almost like a carrier, mentor, or sire to some bots anyway.

Overtime, although you won’t admit it. There’s one thing you do often look forward to when out on missions with other bots and femmes..

Is the possibility of running into Kups team. The Weckers.

You and Kup both made sure that no other Cybertronians knew about your relationship with each other long ago. But that doesn’t mean anything was still easier for the both of you. While you two would exchange looks. You two will never admit this now.

But you both always held back when trying to shoot at each other.

Luckily something Megatron will never find out. After all Megatron had no reason to not trust you. You’re one of his strongest worriors and one of the trusted advisors in his council. In both guns and swords.

Hand in hand combat as you were one of the bots who taught him to continue to be stronger.

Everything stayed like that since. Kup would lead and teach the bots under him and with him. Perceptor being the only one to know the relationship the two of you had.

One day though everything would change for the two of you. Unser if it’s for the better…or for the worse.

———————————————————————————

Kup and a few of the other wreckers were on their usual patrol. Keeping an optic out for any decepticons from coming near the base. After some time the wreckers started making conversation and well…Kup has always stayed secretive with some things. Even as the others knew something was always up when speaking about relationships.

As they continue, you and your group were heading to their location to find some energon. This group always taking you with them as back up.

Deadlock being one of the bots. You and him always got along. But nothing really in common. Despite the comments many would make and assume about you two.

Many assuming you both would become a couple because “Swords” and both having a sort of understanding with peace. But the truth was.

Most Decepticons at your area at least. But you two… Could give less of a shit about each other.

As you all made your way to your designated location in your alt modes. One of the femmes say they should transform and look around once set up.

Having the 2 snipers look for any camp as the others watch around to protect.

You and Deadlock up front and watching.

Both having one arm down as the other bent and the cervo on a sword handle. You and Deadlock both doing this but with opposite cervos. Standing far from the snipers as the others started working on their weapons.

“You sure this gun blaster with work Y/N?” A femme asks you as she kneels down next to you. You glancing down at her as you let out a sigh.

But not in annoyance. You’d not then speak without looking at the bot.

”I designed it didn’t I. You can trust with promise it works.” Deadlock side eyed you before looking forward for a moment. The bot huffed as the femme got the weapon ready before sitting down with it.

The femme from earlier walking into the open land searching for life and energon. Becoming bate for any possible autobot.

Luckily she’s fast so killing her will be hard.

Back with Kup and his gang one of the bots sees the decepticon. Another fight soon insues. You and Deadlock soon getting involved as you both ran together into battle.

During the long fight it was you against Springer who made sure to insult and in his way flirt with you every now and then.

Meanwhile Deadlock took on Kup.

Deadlock was able to get a good upper hand. Even insulting Kup for his age when he can. Despite being aware you were around the same age as him.

With you and Springer the fight was just as intense.

As you two fought. You mostly were in hand in hand combat. Showing his boxing skills no match for your martial arts.

But because you both were on higher ground. You both ended up falling down a steep and long hill.

Falling into tree of an unknown planet (not earth). Springer dragging you along as he try’s to get into a few good punches.l

As you both fell to the ground. You two now seperated by the others. You’d make your way to pin Springer down. Getting ontop of him and holding him down as he struggles against you.

—-

Meanwhile with Kup. He wasn’t having much of a good time either. Deadlock being able to get an upper hand.

Stabbing his sword into and through Kups leg before then twisting it in for good measures. Causing Kup to groan and scream as he lays there. Doing the same thing to his arm on the other side of his body. Both his upper arm and upper thigh now injured as he groans and looks at Deadlock. Deadlock just casually cleaning his swords before looking down at him.

”Sweet dreams…..you old brute.”

From there he walked away. Leaving Kup there as he bleeds out.

Back with you and springer he was able to get you off him…eventually. After being able to grab something off the floor and stabbing at your thigh with it. Causing you to groan. He’s stab you once more at the side of your waist.

Pushing you and shoving you down with both hands.

As he was fast to get ontop of you. Soon he stabbed you in your left eye before shoving your face down into the ground as he puts you in a headlock as you struggled against his strength. He defiantly trained with Kup before.

”You once had honor before joining Megatrons fake cause! I only hope Primus may forgive your spark as he sees the blood on your hands…..Him and Yoketron…”

You’d continue trying to fight against him but it was no use. For a moment you believed him though. Maybe…it was best to see if it’s time for you. After all no one’s really waiting for you now.

And so…you gave up. Your arms no longer on his as he continues.. Eventually you stopped moving.

Springer then letting you go.

He’d leave after spitting on your frame. Making his way to the others as he climbed up. Eventually the two teams would seperate as the decepticons realize they’d have to retreat. Thanks to you missing and Deadlock couldn’t take them all on.

The others asking where you were. Only for the leader to say you are in the Autobots mercy now as a response. Deadlock not paying much mind as he transformed and drove with the others.

The same thing happening with the Autobots.

Believing Kup was killed by one of you until Springer mentioned he killed you.

At least that’s what he thinks.

After some time when everyone else was gone. The wreckers believing Kup was gone. After a few kliks it soon started to pour with green rain. A moment of silence.

That is….until you woke up with a gasp. Soon standing up as you looked around confused. You’re…alive? That-…how??? You’d look around and wonder.

Returning to the field only to see everyone was gone as you notice their tire marks on the mud around you.

As you kept looking around you soon find….Kup.

Kup groaned as he tries to stop the bleeding from his arm. Only for it to at times be too painful for him to try to stop it. His groans loud as he closed his optics. You made your way closer to him and kneeled down.

”Kup.” Your voice soft as he slowly looked up at you. The rain almost getting in his way. So you leaned your upper body over his.

Using your cervos to support yourself over him. Your cervos on both sides of his helm as he finally looks at you. Taking note of your optics injury. “I’m truly dyin’….Guess I’ve always knew it be you who’s the last thing I see during this whole damn war.”

He chuckled. You missed that chuckle. “Dont worry Kup. I’ll get you patched up.”

You’d then get to work on his injures. He’d groan from time to time as you took out a few of your tools from your hip. You’d take a few from your first aid before every mission. You’d check on him once you finished.

“Kup you still with me?”

Kup then looks at you as he sighed. “Yeah…But don’t really like this rain much though.”

You’d sigh as you think for a moment. You’d then gently pull him up. Ignoring the pain the stabs in your thigh. Having him on your back with your cervos under his thighs as his frame rests against your back, the arm not injured wrapping around you neck as you walked to a close by cave you noticed when making your way to the spot earlier that day.

———————————————————————————

As you both made it to the cave you made sure to be very gentle with him. Setting him down against the wall of the cave. His cervo gently holding his injured arm as you checked his leg injury.

While you worked on it you didn’t expect to hear his voice as you kneeled before him consecrated.

”Why…Why are you helpin’ me Y/N Our…Our agreement…”

”Kup..I just…I just can’t right now.” You stay silent for a moment as Kup looks at you with curious optics.

“There’s more Y/N. Just spit it out.” You sigh.

”I just couldn’t leave you to die. I don’t wish to just leave you to bleed out….Even if you would do the same to me….” You looked down. His frown still there but..sadder. “Y/N…Do you still-”

He doesn’t finish as you grab his location transmission for his ship to come to you guys. “Y/N what are you-“

”You need to make it to the medical bay. Or else you’ll die.”

”But you need help too! Dont try being a hero now after everything! At least let the medic patch up you-“

”KUP!…….You. Come…First. The Autobots…they wont care I’m just another dirty decepticon who’s just leading you to deception…That’s all I am and all I’ll be! Understood!? You are going to be saved and we go our seperate ways. Like before as agreed!”

You’d keep at his leg before satisfied with how it is.

Kup only stared at you until he notices a big rock close to him.

“You know, when I think of us before. The possibility of us reuniting after our…separation. I thought it be on…different circumstances….heh even the possibility of it being over as we fought each other at most.”

You stay quiet for a moment before finally speaking as you then looked at him as you spoke. “Oh yeah and how you oof-“

Kup knocked you out with the rock in his cervo. He panted as he leaned back and looked at your unconscious body. Memories start flowing through his mind.

Snippets of you laying next to him on your shared berth. Your bright smile when you both were still young adults. When he would watch you sleep peacefully next to him. Back when you two were still Conjunx.

When you both still showed your love together…

Soon as he’s pulled out of his thought. The lights of his rescue ship appears. Kup letting out a sigh…He has a lot of explaining to do now…..

��——————————————————————————

After Kup was saved and you were taken in. Kup explained everything to his and Optimus. Optimus was a bit more understanding and asked the right questions as they interrogate him.

After Optimus told Kup that although they must hold you captive. You are a dangerous bot after all. Having a reputation amongst the Autobots. Springer was to say at most, the most surprised after hearing you saved him.

But just like everyone else. He wasn’t sure how that was possible. It has to be some sort of miracle that you survived. Only being knocked out and all.

Soon after when Kup and his team go on thier own ship once more. With you as prisoner. The young bots didn’t waist anytime with flooding Kup with questions. ”So what the hell is the story with you two- like you two make out before knocking them unconscious?”

”More importantly how did you even bag that! They’re way more good looking then you!”

”Not too mention probably younger Kup!”

”What was sex with them like?”

”GIVE US TIPS OR SOMETHING OLD MAN!!!!!!!!!”

Kup has had it. Standing up and yelling at the bots to shut up.

“Will you all shut up alright??!! Ok we dated! We were married for a good while before the war. We went our different ways. That’s all you need to know! They chose to save me for some reason alright! I don’t know why either. But I couldn’t leave them on that planet to bleed out!!!…….Now drop it.”

He sits back in his seat as he looked down.

Springer then sighs and looks at the others. All of them with pleading optics for him to ask you a very certain question.

He’d then command for the ship to go on autopilot and turn his chair towards Kup who just sat there.

”Kup…tell us how you and Y/N….met.” Kup glances back at Springer as well as the other bots did. He’d then sigh. Turning his chair toawrds the direction to the others as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his closed optics. Letting out an annoyed groan as he looked at the others.

“Fine Y’all really wish to know? I’ll tell ya. But NO interrupting. Understood?”

The bots nod as they stare at him. All then pulling out some energon like popcorn. Kup then speaks of the very you and Kup met.

———————————————————————————

I was but a young bot at the time. Before the many of your were born. I wasn’t always such an old bot either.

Back then I didn’t have my wrinkles and not much of a smoking habit then. I was just an ordinary bot. Trying to find work to help protect under the council at the time.

I was good friends with Hounds boss who had the best war stories. And he owned a pretty good guns and weapons store along with a shooting area. Little did I know. He got his weapons specialized and even practived by a certain bot who would change my life then.

And…in a way I still don’t and will never regret that moment….even now. They’re still the most…..fascinating bot I have ever seen…..Y/N…..

The door chimes as you walked in. Your swords on your hip handles as usual. You pretty much looked the same. Having no eye bags and no wrinkles like the more faded ones you’ll have in present time.

You had your usual smile on your dermas.

Your optics narrowed as you sighed. Making your way to the front counter. Kup was there feeling the guns weight in his cervos before noticing you at the corner of his optics.

He’d look at you as you pass by. His intake open a bit as he stares at you. You speak to Hound as his mind starts racing.

Eventually putting the gun down before he works up the confidence to come up from behind to next to you. Resting his elbow on the counter as his frame faces you. Trying to put on the best smile he can.

But it ends up being more nerdy and awkward. You’re looking at a gun Hound gave you to look over as Kup finally speaks.

”Hey there. Haven’t seen you around..here..” He drifts as he notices your swords. You’d glance at them then back at him. Then raising your cervo to him to shake as you kept your signature smile. “Y/N. And you are?”

He slowly shakes yours as he smiles once more. “Kup. So uhh you-”

”Alright Y/N I got your payment. Tell your Sire I said hello.” Hound walks in interrupting you both. Kup feeling a bit of pain in his spark as he struggled with his words. His cervo still out and his arm bent.

You and hound speaking for a moment more.

”Goodbye Kup. It’s nice having have met you.” Your soft voice pulling him from his thoughts. He watched as you leave. Both your arms stay on your sides as your hips sway. Kup stands there with his intake open as his arms falls to his side finally.

Hound noticed and closed his intake using a digit as he looked at him confused. “You good?

I wasn’t- after that I just couldn’t get them out of my helm. Such a strange but exciting feeling. And so that next day. I made a….choice.

“Hey Hound.”

”Kup? What brings you here? Didn’t you just do your pick ups yesterday?” Kup rubbed the back of his helm.

”Yes- but I was wondering ‘bout that bot yesterday. Y/N?”

”You’re still on about that bot? They’re just someone who works at that dojo. Barely even use guns themselves. I’d say forget’em now Kup. It ain’t like you to-“ Hound was then pinned roughly against the wall by Kup.

”Hound. Just give me the location of them and I wont tell your boss your dirty little secret with his daughter.” Hound gulped as his cervos stay up. “Okay-“

Wait- Hound actually got laid?

That’s besides the point! After Hound finally spoke. His intake actually to some use. I made my way to the dojo. I wasn’t sure on what I was goin’ to say or do. But I knew I just had to try…Not like I had anyone waiting for more besides some roommates.

Kup made his way to the dojo your sire owns. As you were in the training room, helping elementary sparklings learn to kick. Your sire Yoketron was at the front desk speaking to one of his students.

He was a few feet taller. Having a more bulky build.

Kup walks in and looked around. The student leaving as Yoketron turns his attention to Kup as he places his cervos behind his back.

“What brings you here young bot? Is it guidence on your….violent path? Or…something more?” His optics narrow as he stares down at Kup. Noticing Kups traits and the way he stands.

Kup looked up at him with his optics a bit wide.

“Uh yeah- Y-yes! I’m looking for a certain bot. Their name bein’ Y/N. You happen to know them?”

”Tall bot, two swords, yellow optics?” He says say he pointed at his own optics. Even tilting his head as he spoke.

”Yes that’s them! Heh. Wondering to ask them about possibly….I don’t know going out or somethin. So they work here. Right?” The two stared at each other. Yoketron had his helm tilted a bit as he stared down at him. After a second he finally blinks then narrowed his eyes.

”What is your name and occupation young bot?” he asks placing his cervos back behind his back.

”Name’s Kup. I’m currently training under the council for the military. I serve and protect to fight in any future wars and serve the city. I mostly handle in guns you see.” He gently pats his rifle in the gun holder on his hip. Yoketron seems a bit alarmed but stays firm as he listened.

“Would you say guns should be used for “much” combat in way?”

Kup thought for a moment. “Uhhh Well yes I suppose since it’s faster and gets the job done more then well why not?”

Yoketron stands there again. But his helm no longer titled as he then looked at him and blinked. At first Kup almost had a grin. Thinking he got him to agree to let him see you. But then as Yoketron walked out.

He was holding the back collar and waist of Kup. Throwing him out as he falls on his aft with a groan. Kup then looking back at Yoketron as he sat there.

”Until you can learn to find your inner peace and to not rely so heavily in the studies of…Just Guns. But the possible use to better help one forth called enemy. You may see my child then…Kup.”

He’d then close the door as Kup groans and stands up.

Walking away. That’s until he gets an idea as he sees the dojo is also a home in the upstairs.

When Yoketron walked up the stairs to the living room of your apartment later that evening, you were making energon cake to celebrate his birthday. You’d notice something was up with him. “Are you ready Sire?”

“Yes my little one.” He responds with a smile. You keep your usual smile and serve him his energon cake as he sits down. You taking your seat next to him as he looks at the candles. His cervos on the table. “Make a wish Sire.”

wait- How’d your know that happened?

……….They told me.

Oh-.

Now stop interrupting!

Sorry-

So..later after buying some flowers and walking around a store close by. Waiting for my chance of either their old man leaving or even just seeing them through the glasss window.

I soon saw my chance as I saw their Sire Yoketron walk out of the dojo. Once he was far enough and I saw then at the front desk. I went straight in for their heart! I was a lot more naive at the time….

After some cake, Yoketron got ready for his outing. “I’ll be visiting some old friends from my teen years. You’ll be fine while I’m out my little one?”

“Yes Sire. Now enjoy yourself. I shall be here upon your return.”

He nods and walks out after giving you a warm. As he left. It being mid afternoon. Kup was waiting on the other side of the building next door. You’d make your way to the front inside ahead of the front desk. You’d start cleaning the floors with a broom. From there Kup makes his way closer. Seeing you as you had your back to the glass door. He had some flowers from the store across.

Before he walked in he checked his looks at his reflection in the glass. He groan at himself. Why was he acting like this???

He’d then clear his throat once he walked in. “Y/N hello-“

You’d turn around and see him as you still held your broom. “Oh Kup hello. What brings you here? Are in search for self defense possibly?”

He chuckles as he got closer to you.

”Well no. I’m just here to speak uh speak to you actually…” You two are silent for a moment. He seemed like he wanted more to say.

“Uhhh these are for you!!! Thought it be a nice restart of…meeting?”

You chuckled as you set the broom down and gently took the flowers. Your cervos gently brushing against his.

He blushed a bit. And he had to hold back his grin from getting bigger. You gently smelled the flowers before looking at him. “Thank you Kup. They’re beautiful. Is there anything I can do for you?”

”Weeeeell a date would be nice. Maybe at that restuarent down the street of the broadcast tower?”

He was panicking inside as he looked at you. Your optics widened a bit and even had a small blush on your cheeks. Your smile only gone for a moment before soon returning. You’d narrowed your optics as you looked back at the flowers. You’d then let out a soft chuckle.

“Alright Kup. Since you asked so nicely.”

Kup had the cutest and most silliest grin as he looked at you. But from there both of your optics widened as you both look back at the sound of a voice. “Little one I apologize. I forgot to tell you….”

Yoketron walks in with a smile on his dermas. But that soon leaves when he sees ou too. Only seeing ou through the glass.

You stood there. Still holding a large bouquet in your arms as you stood there. Your face blank as your bright yellow optics looked up at him. Kups face now full of worry and a bit of fear.

You’d then smile.

”Ah Sire Welcome back. This is Kup. What was it that troubles you?”

Yoketron was definitely holding back as he forced a smile. “Oh doesn’t matter. Just missed you little one.”

He walks over to you ignoring Kup. “Ah these flowers are beautiful.”

”Aren’t they? Kup here bought them for the store across I believe. Aren’t they lovely.” You’d smile.as you looked at Kup. Kup was internally screaming on the inside. “I’ll uh see you then……Bye!”

From there Kup left as Yoketron rested a cervo on your shoulder. You were confused but then pulled from your train of thought as your Sire spoke.

“That young one is not guided well my little one. Best be careful with him as you carve your path. And I’m afraid I’ll be gone for a few days. So the shop will be closed for a few until the weekend. Understood my dear?”

You’d nod. “Yes Sire I’ll be fine.” He’d smile and leave. He’d then look around then make his way to his destination.

And so after that I made my way back to my apartment. I thought about them. That’s literally all I could do. I just couldn’t stop. It was then though that I realized…..I forgot to set a date and time-

And so that same night after some tips from some friends. I got an idea.

As you made you way to your berthroom. Writing in your notebook of possible weapon upgrades. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear a knock on your window. You’d then see its Kup hanging on for dear life.

“Kup!!!”

You’d open the window and he’d sit on the window frame. One leg in as he spoke.He

“Hey sorry I forgot to tell you a date and time.”

”Oh that’s alright figured you’d visit tomorrow or somethin…..Would you like anything?”

”Oh no no I’m just thinking maybe we can meet…meet at 4…tomorrow?”

You let out a soft chuckle and nod.

“Sure I’ll see you then Kup.” He took note your smile is a bit wider as lets out a nervious chuckled and you two stared at each other.

”Well I should probably uhh head home from there. S…see you then.” He climbs out and closes the window. Him smiling as you did the same. Both of you looking at each others optics. But when he tried to take a step back. Your body turned to the side before fully turning around as you crossed your arms.

Kup forgets he’s on a roof. He falls back and lets out a shout. You’d hear and run to the window. Opening it as you looked for him. Sticking your upper body out the window as you looked down.

”Are you alright?!”

”Yeah yeah…I’m fine.” He’d say as he stood up. After dusting himself off he waves at you with a smile. “Until then!”

“Until then…” You waved back as you watched him walk away. A chuckle leaving your intake and a smile on your dermas. After he was out of view you’d close the window and head to your berth.

And from there. So much has happened. Our date went perfect as you can imagine. The two of us having a lot on common in fact. We both enjoying a lot of things including guns and war tactics. They weren’t as peace on earth as you’d expect. Even when you’d look at their Sire. They had…more character and much tougher even.

Which defiently my type. After our date we ended the day with a kiss. Though I’ll admit I did get a bit carried away. But who wouldn’t?

And so after we’d have a few more dates. Eventualy when their sire returned I got to meet him in better terms. I eventually won his heart after I agreed to train under him for a good while just to gain his trust…..

And so after a few months after we started dating. I grew more in love with them every single day. Every..second I’d look at them. Think of them. And even when I didn’t think of them for a moment I’d still catch myself falling in love with them more and more. That was…..until the war started.

Everyone was choosing sides. Losing their jobs and so on. I wanted them to join the Autobots so that we can be together as we grow old through the war…but…

As you made your way into your shared apartment with Kup. He was sitting on the couch. His cervos together and his helm low. His knee moving up and down in his nervousness before he looked up at you.

“Y/N! You weren’t attacked were you?”

”No Kup. You know I can protect myself.” You say as he stood and walked up to you. His cervos on your waist as he looked down at you with worried optics.

You placing your cervos on his chest and shoulders as your forhelms touch. Tears forming in your optics.

”They…they got to Yoketron….I..I couldn’t tell if they were decepticons or Autobots-“

”Shh Shh Y/N. It’s ok…. I’m so sorry…He’s with the all spark now. He’s with Primus now. At least he wont be a part of this war now sweetspark…” He kisses your forhelm as you closed your optics.

You calm your tears as you looked up at him..”Kup……Megatron and Optimus Primes words….Their points of views….”

Kups optics widen a bit before returning to narrowing. Sad but almost hope in his optics as he spoke. “Y/N I…..I made the choice to join the Autobots….I..I don’t know if you…”

He sees tears fall down your cheeks more as you stared at him…..He finally sees it once you pulled back a bit. The decepticon logo on your chest as you cried. He just stares at it. Processing it..

”Is this…what you truly believe to be right for you sweetspark?” His voice cracked a bit at sweetspark.

His forhelm touching yours once more. “….Yes Kup…Megatron has a point with this…messed up system….and…and…” His dermas were against yours.

You returning the kiss immediately as both of your optics remained closed.

The kiss was passionate. Much like your first as it lasted. But…sadder now. Your soft kisses the only thing heard in the room as you both held each other for a bit longer.

Eventually he’d pull away for a moment. His dermas a little close to yours as he whispers. “I wont fight you sweetspark….But….” His cervos now on your shoulders as he pulls away. His optics soft as he has the frown he’ll soon wear all the time to his old age as he spoke.

”An autobot…cant be with a decepticon…and if our paths were to ever cross….we shouldn’t hold back….We are nothing more but enemies from then on……”He says as he walks past you to the door. Saying that last part as he opened the door.

“You shall always be in my spark…maybe in another life.” You two gave each other one last kiss. Not caring if it’s right or wrong…

Once he pulls away. He backs up only a little bit.

“Good bye..Sweetspark….I’ll always keep you in my spark.. even if I can’t see it.”

Once he was out. You teared up only more. You two saying that was your way of saying I love you. You falling to your knees as Kup hears your soft sobs through the door. Tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to remain strong. Making his way to Optimus once his tears finally disappeared….

———————————————————————————

“And that’s basically how it ended…”

The few of the wreckers were holding in their tears as they just stared at Kup.

Bulkhead though was the biggest cry baby in there as whirl tried to calm him down. “Chill out dude-“

”AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH It’s so Saaaaaaaaad” Bulkhead cries as he blows his “nose” in a tissue. As the others cry too, even Kup looked at them surprised.

Springer then becomes the one with the idea. “Kup maybe you should….talk to them. Try to understand this and well….maybe in some way…there’s hope for the both of ya.”

Kup took in his words as he looked down for a moment. The others agreeing with him as Kup then sighs. “Yeah I…Guess I’ll give it a try.”

He’d stand up as the others watched. Making his way the cells where you were behind held captive in.

You were already awake. Your cuffed to the wall with two of your arms up. Same with your ankles being cuffed as well as you could only watch out the window from your cell.

Eventually though you’d notice the cameras turning off as their lights turned off.

Kup soon appears, opening the cell. You took note he had a bandage on his leg and his arm. He did have a limp. He took note of your bandages as well. You had a patch over your eye now as well as a bandage on your thigh as you’re held up.

Along with a wrap around your waist.

He’d make his way to stand infront of you. Leaving the cell opened as you two stare at each other in silence.

Until he spoke.

”They um….patched you up pretty well huh..”

”Yeah..They did. …They um…They..:

“Kup..Why are you here?”

Kup thinks. He thinks hard as you look at him.

”Why don’t we..have a chat. Hm?” He pulls a chair and sits in front of you.

”Sure, not like I can go anywhere.” You both chuckled as you both began to speak. Talking abut the good. The bad. Everything throughout the year. Eventually the two of you reach a heart to heart.

Even as you spoke about how the Decepticons are no longer what they were build up for in the first place.

But despite you wanting to leave. It was a lot harder than what most Cybertronians would expect. You’d explain how you’d wish to leave but always felt so trapped. Especially when around Deaddlock who is one of the only few bots who can match you.

Then you two spoke about the past when you both dated. You made a mention. Something you forgot to keep secret from your hot headed partner. Causing him to stand up as he confronts you.

”You were once courted by Hound??! How come I never heard of this before??”

”He asked me to not tell you. Me and him just ended things on good terms when we realized it wouldn’t work out.”

”How long before us?”

”…………”

”Y/N.”

”mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm like two…..” He raises an optics ridge. “Two?…”

”weeks-“

”Two weeks before we met??!!”

”Yeap-“

Kup started losing his crap. Throwing the chair and talking shit about Hound.” That guy can’t even- UUGHH!!!”

”Yeah and after that he went into a relationship with his bosses daughter. At least he finally realized what he wanted before breaking another’s heart huh.”

You’d say with a smile as Kup finally calmed down. Before standing before you again. “Oh we are so having a talk later. I already…….I already spent enough time here…..”

”Will you…visit me again?”

You’d say as he looked at you before grabbing his cigar. Something he did out of habit everyday. He’d look at you. Your optic soft and…sad..

He’d then think again before coming closer to you. His chest almost touching yours as he spoke. “I want you to be honest with me….Do you…..Do you still love me Y/N?”

You’d stare into his optics. Both surprised but….honestly happy from his question. So as you opened your intake. You spoke nothing but the truth.

”Honestly….The love I have for you…It never truly went away. What we both had back then…It never truly stopped.”

Kup only stared at you. Knowing that you’re telling the truth. He’d then sigh before nodding as he looks at you once more. Only to start uncuffing the cuffs on your ankles.

”Kup what are you-“

“Before I do your hands…Y/N will you join the Autobots? Join me? The wreckers are one of the best teams you’ll ever join! Join me and we can restart!……This is the only chance I can give you…..”

His cervos rested on your waist as you looked away for a moment. Maybe this can be your chance?…..Why not? And so with a shaky voice but warm and soft…you spoke.

”I will fight..For the Autobots.” Causing Kup to smile as he finally releases your arms from the cuffs. His arm around your waist as he handles the other cuff.

So when you were finally not against the wall, you weight was against him and he gently sets you on the floor. Your cervos on his shoulders as his other arm wraps around your waist as well. You both staring at each other with small smiles on both of your dermas.

“So, you goin’ kiss me like you miss me?” You asked teasing. Him letting out a soft chuckle.

”Boy did I ever before huh?” You both let out a chuckle as your dermas soon meet.

Unlike your last one. Similar to your very first kiss. While still filled with love and passion. It wasn’t full of sadness like the last one. Or unsure and scared as the first one. This….this one is more certain. Almost impatient as your cervos move to the back of his helm.

His arms around your waist gently holding you against him as the kiss grows more hungry. His cervos then picking you up by your thighs, you moving your legs around his waist as your cervos remain where they are.

You’d pull away for a moment. Your optics narrowed as your dermas are close to his. His optics narrowed as well.

“I missed you Kup..”

“…..I missed you too sweetspark..” you both smiled.

Both soon returning to your kiss. It becoming more and more heating as you both cling to each other.

Luckily since the Wreckers didn’t have any other prisoners. You both didnt have to worry about making too much noise. Until you got forgot of course.

Before you both knew it Kup had your back against the wall. The sounds of your kisses and moans in the cell as you both soon then..hear a couple clicks.

You two defiently have a lot of making up to do. Every second worth it!

—Meanwhile with the Wreckers….

Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank

Whirl was sipping on some energon coffee. Only for it to fall on his lap from the cup and make a mess as the others were playing cards. Springer having his cervos interlocked as he watched forward. Bulkhead then looking at Springer ad the others soon do the same.

Springer then sighs as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “He earned it. Can’t say scrap this time guys.”

The others groan.

“Yeah that’s it just like the old days!!!” Kup yells causing the wreckers to groan more and Bulkhead to cover his own audio sensors. This went on for a good while after…..-

Bonus—

As you spoke to the Wreckers.

Them curious on how someone like Kup was able to convince you to date him.

Looking at your point of view.

Kup can be seen in the background strangling Springer with just his cervos as Springers own are on Kups arms. Trying to stop him.

Yeah Springer told Kup why you were knocked out.

So Kup descided to teach the poor lad a lesson on what happens when you mess with his sparkmate.

A lesson he’ll surely never forget.

UGH!!!!!! I LOVED WRITING THIS!!!!! THIS WAS SO FUN AND GOD IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY WRITE FOR HIM!!!!

I hope all you other Kup simps were able to read and enjoyed this. Sorry that it’s so long. I got so carried away but I regret nothing!!!! I hope you to see you guys in the comments and hear y’all opinions. So ya know don’t be too mean lol.

Anyway y’all know a repost is always appreciated and I hope to see you guys in the next post and have a good rest of your day!!!!

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[lord-luminous]

Someone called Bill Cipher and Ford Pines a doomed soulmates pairing and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that.

Being doomed soulmates, to me, always felt intrinsically tragic. One of the few examples I could think off hand are Achilles and Patroclus, two people loved each other so much but they weren't destined for happiness. Greek heroes 99% of the time never are. Soulmates as a trope is defined in someone being destined to end up with their perfect match.

That's why Bill and Ford being doomed soulmates is so utterly fascinating. BillFord is probably the most anti-romantic pairing Gravity Falls (show) could honestly conjure. So much of that pairing is built on manipulation, lies and transaction. Bill is using Ford to get into the a physical realm so he can rule it, while Ford is idly using Bill to learn more things about the unnatural side of the world. So those two being soulmates on any level is going to be anything but healthy. I mean, even in the show, Bill tortures Ford for information.

Furthermore, it can be used in such fascinating theories and AUs. When we read the story as them as explicit doomed soulmates, while pairing information we have from the show and fandom theories you can bring to life fun concepts.

When the show was airing, there was a theory post-ATOTS that Blendin Possesed By Bill had messed with Ford's project to further ruin it than Stan had. Which is why it looked more damaged coupled with the "Blendin was here" with a triangle right there in the episode. So what if it was Bill that ruined the project? That would make the Stan Twins fight and go their separate ways, while this intentionally led Ford right down the path to meet Bill eventually in Gravity Falls. The path that eventually lead to their partnership, Ford being pushed into the portal, 30 years trapped in the Dream Dimension, and later, Bill's defeat.

And that's just one idea I came up for some random fanfiction floating in my brain. The reason I even like that particular concept is that it does more than absolve Stan of wrongdoing, but rather shows you how twisted Bill Cipher could be. There's more you can do with it. Doomed soulmates destined to find each other, and destined to ruin each other. Bill being half the reason Ford was pushed through portal or how he let Ford go insane through fear while Ford being a part of the Cipher Zodiac that could vanquish Bill or using the memory gun on Bill to erase him from existence.

It's so interesting because even if BillFord isn't my ship, you can unpack so much through their dynamic through this lens. Like what makes them click together and what drives them apart.

You guys might have already realized all this, but I just needed to get this off my chest. Finding out more about Bill and Ford's relationship has altered me on a fundamental level. Doomed Soulmates is actually the most appropriate way to define it. How else would you define it?

Thank you for listening to me, a semi-casual fan of Gravity Falls.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Paranoia

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, fluff

author‘s note: Y‘all this is my first fic. So excited to get this all started!!

Masterlist

It had long gone dark as Bucky made his way home to you. A mission in Vienna occupied him for the last couple of days and he couldn’t wait to hold you in his arms again, breathe you in, and smoother you with kisses. Communication outside of the headquarters was denied much to Bucky’s dismay so instead of your melancholy voice he only got to hear annoying and unhelpful remarks from Sam through his com, who was tasked to watch his six.

He weaved his bike through the mostly empty streets, definitely faster than he was supposed to but eager to see you.

Walking up the steps to your shared apartment he couldn’t resist the giddy feeling welling up inside his chest, warmth spreading throughout his body. You and Bucky moved in together one year and three months into your relationship. Although it was his place too - you reminded him several times - he let you decorate it the way you wanted it, only throwing in a remark here and there.

He just loved the feeling of being surrounded by you - by the things you chose to include in the life you had with him. The couch, where you would cuddle up together, bundled in a blanket, limbs interlinked, watching a show together. The curtains, you would drag across the window to shield Bucky and you from the world outside. The flower pots littering your small balcony where you showed him how to take care of the plants after he drowned the azaleas last spring. Even the shoe rack where your sandals and sneakers were lined up right next to his boots reminding him of the life you shared. That this was real. That he had you and you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

That giddy feeling though left his body in an instant, with no resemblance of it ever being there. His heart sank to his shoes, even further but his brain couldn’t follow. He was feeling hot all of a sudden but nothing like the warmth that took hold of his heart just moments earlier. His mind was going haywire, wild eyes staring at his hand, which unbeknownst to him started shaking already. His key was still in his hand, ready to turn in the deadbolt of the lock, but all it took was a small push to open the door.

He didn’t realize he may be overreacting. Didn’t consider you could have just forgotten to lock the door. No. Unwillingly, his thoughts were clouded with the worst his mind could conjure up. This was New York after all. And he was the goddamn Winter Soldier for crying out loud. He did his best to make amends, trying to demonstrate that he isn’t the person people know him as but there will always be a few seeing him as the man Hydra trained him to be. He still got funny looks while walking the street, someone crossing the street when he approached and he noticed the sympathetic smiles people throw your way because they couldn’t seem to wrap their mind around how someone as sweet, compassionate, and gleeful can be with someone as him. He had trouble understanding that too.

So while it could have been a small mistake on your part Bucky was reeling at the easy access to your apartment. He shouldered his way into your home scanning the room and calling your name, a waver in his voice.

Nothing looked out of place, no evidence of a break-in. The fluffy white blanket was folded over the armrest of the couch. Piles of books were neatly placed in the bookshelf you built up together. Well, Bucky did, while you read chapter after chapter of the current book you were reading aloud. It took him two hours to build that shelf but not because he had difficulties. He just was afraid you‘d stop reading to him when he finished. Everything looked as it was supposed to but the nagging feeling didn’t let up and he chased down the corridor.

“Doll? Come on baby, where are you?”

He stalked into your bedroom, hoping to see you wrapped up in a warm blanket and reading a book or taking a nap waiting for him but he was met with the empty sheets arranged neatly. Through his panicked thoughts, he couldn’t make out the quiet creak of the door to your laundry room further down the hall and rushed footsteps coming his way.

“Y/n!”

He was shouting at this point, sheer panic lacing his voice and turning on his heels to check the other rooms.

“Buck-”

Bodys colliding, a yelp, Buckys arms shot out to steady you. You found your balance again shooting a concerned albeit bewildered look up at him.

“Buck, what’s going on?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out while enclosing his arms around you, tugging you against him. Relief flooded his body and he swayed you both a little still feeling wobbly on his legs and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while taking a big breath, filled with your scents. His hands roamed your body searching for anything that could indicate discomfort or pain.

You let him hold you for a few moments, feeling his chest heave with deep breaths, and only lightened your hold on him when his heartbeat evened out again. Without letting go completely you lifted your head and tilted backwards to study him better.

“What happened Buck?”

Your whispered concern got Bucky out of his mind and he opened his eyes to look down at you, the hold on you never faltering. He looked a little sheepish now, shaking his head in a small movement, and took a shuddering breath.

“The door wasn’t locked,” it came out with a rasp and he cleared his throat, eyes shifting a little before they met yours.

You furrowed your brows and turned your head in the direction of the door. A couple of seconds later it hit you. You got some groceries earlier today and got distracted by the beeping of the washing machine when entering the apartment. You just shut the door, put the groceries down, and moved Bucky's clothes to the dryer. You wanted them to be clean and dry for when he came back. Walking back you went straight for the groceries to store them away without sparing another glance at the door.

“Shit Buck, I forgot,” It was your turn to look sheepish. You grimaced, moving to meet his eyes again.

“Figures,” he chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead, lingering there longer than needed, and caught your eyes again, sporting a serious expression this time.

“I’m not scolding you for forgetting baby, it happens, but I need you to lock that door,” he voiced in a whisper, blue orbs intently focused on you.

You sigh, breaking his eye contact, and nod heavily.

“I know Buck, I’m sorry,”

He shook his head, his flesh hand reaching up to caress your cheek and tilting your head to meet his eyes again. His lips met your nose, then your forehead, lingering there again, before holding your gaze and speaking softly.

“Don’t apologize doll, I just…,” He closed his eyes, hanging his head, trying to compose himself so as not to fall back into franticness.

“Hey,” Your soft voice and touch calmed him in an instant. Glossed-over blues met yours again and you brushed your lips over his in a sweet kiss. “I get it. I’m sorry I got you worried baby, won’t happen again. I promise!”

He leaned in to kiss you again angling your head to deepen it. It was slow and soft and you rested your forehead against his after pulling away.

“I missed you!”

He pulled you closer even though it was impossible, nuzzling his head against yours. His lips spread into a smile.

“I missed you too baby! So much.”

Your smile matched his. “You kill Sam yet?”

He chuckled lightheartedly, his body relaxing against yours, the tension in his shoulders leaving completely. He knew you tried to distract him and it worked. It’ll always work because you’re the only one able to ease his mind when his paranoia gets the better of him.

“All beauty has a little tragedy”

- Bridgett Devoue

[lionneee]

Perfect Match

Final Part

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: oral sex, fake relationship, talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five

You didn’t know.

You would have swore he was just another guy with a perfect life, just good to fuck with.

You thought he was simply trying to rebel, to not follow the mass.

That’s why you chose him.

You never thought he could have been in the same situation as yours.

You leaned your head back to look at his face as he kept sleeping.

You fell asleep in his arms, his cock must have slipped out of you during the night.

It didn’t take long before he started to wake up too.

He slowly opened his eye, looking back at you.

He didn’t talk.

You just kept looking at each other.

It was strange, knowing you both share the same situation.

A family that wanted to be perfect, but was rotten from the inside. You remembered a few words of what his parents were yelling when you came back to his house, the same exact words you heard your own parents yell thousands of times.

When you were younger, you put on your headphones and listened to music at full volume, to muffle the fighting, but as you grew up, you just got used to it.

Aemond took a deep breath and pulled you back in his arms, close, tucking your head under his chin.

You tighterned your arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I don’t want to go out.” You whispered, glancing at the closed door of his room.

“Mh.” You felt his head move, turning to look at the door as well. “We don’t have to.” He said.

You both knew that once past that door, everything would have gone back to how it was.

Fake.

Fake happy families, fake friendship, fake interests.

You felt like you were past that now.

You didn’t want everything to go back as it was.

No, not after how good you felt last night. Not after you finally felt something again.

You unconsciously tightened your arms around Aemond, closing your eyes.

“We can stay here.” You whispered, caressing his back, slipping your hand under his shirt. “We can stay here forever, never go out again.” You felt too good, too comfortable.

“I know. We could.” He slipped his hand in your hair, caressing slowly your head. “We could.” He repeated, as if he was seriously considering the option to hide from the world forever.

In that quiet moment, the world outside seemed so distant, so irrelevant. The tension in both of your lives had built up for years, but here, in this room, it all seemed to melt away. . 

You had chosen him because you thought you knew his type, just another boy looking to push boundaries, to escape boredom. But waking up in his arms now, you realized how wrong you'd been. He was broken just as much as you were, a mirror of your own suffering. Aemond, with all his calculated silence and aloof demeanor, was just as wounded as you.

For the first time, you felt like you weren’t alone in your pain. It wasn't just about what happened between you two last night; it was about the shared understanding of the façade you both wore daily. The world expected you to be perfect—to fit into the molds your families had constructed—but neither of you ever truly did. You both knew that the arguments, the silences, the tensions at home had shaped who you were had led you here, to this bed, to this moment.

Aemond's hand in your hair, his steady breath against your skin, felt like an anchor, holding you both in this fragile peace you’d created together. His fingers combed gently through your strands, and you could tell he was thinking, pondering what you’d said about staying there forever.

“I don’t want to go back,” you whispered again, more to yourself this time. There was a sense of desperation in your voice. You knew the world outside would expect you both to slip back into your roles—the obedient daughter, the dutiful son. But here, with him, you were free. 

“Do you want to stay here?” Aemond asked, but now his voice was softer, almost uncertain. You both knew the fantasy couldn’t last, but for now, it was a comfort. The illusion of safety, the idea that maybe, just maybe, you could escape the weight of your realities.

Your hand on his back felt his muscles tense slightly, as if he, too, was wrestling with the impossibility of it all. He sighed deeply, his chin resting on the top of your head as he held you close. In that shared silence, there was an understanding, a quiet pact. 

But for a little longer, you could pretend. You could hold onto this fleeting moment of peace, knowing that, even if the world outside was fake, what was happening between you now wasn’t. 

You always saw Aemond as a tool to let go. To feel yourself for a moment when you had sex, to stop pretending, but you were still alone.

Alone in your head, in your life, in your experiences.

Now there was someone else.

You leaned your head back again, looking up at him, and he moved as well to stare right back at you.

“I do.” You whispered. You didn’t know what those words did to Aemond, but his lips came down crushing on yours right after them, holding you by the back of your head as he tried to devour your mouth.

“Then I’ll keep you here.” He mumbled against your lips, moving to get on top of you, pressing you down on the bed with his body. “We’ll never go out again. We’ll stay here, and we’ll fuck all day.” He groaned as he wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close. “I’ll keep you to myself –” He said as he looked down at you, moving his hand on your breast, taking it in his hand and squeezing it, kissing his way down to your other nipple, He was fanning, his breath hit your nipple where he sucked it, making it harden with the fresh feeling. You arched your back, you could feel his cockhardening against your thigh. You put your hand on the back of his head, keeping him close, spurring him to keep sucking your tits.

“Make love to me - “ You whimpered as he squeezed your breast a bit tighter. He raised from your chest, looking down at you as he sat back on his haunches. His eye moved all over your body, then back to your face. You could feel your face hot, probably even red, not from embarrassment because of your nudity, more like because of what you said, because it sounded so… cheesy.

You looked back at him, watching him, searching for any reaction, but his face was stoic. 

Until he moved his hand between his legs, pumping his cock a few times to make sure he was hard enough, then he leaned forward, pushing it slowly inside you, making you moan and lean your head back against his pillow. He didn’t rush it like all the others time, just seeking his pleasure and being done with it.

He kept eye contact as he placed his hand beside your head on the mattress, and he moved slowly, but firmly and deeply.

He knew what he was doing.

“Yeah –” He gasped as he glanced down at your bodies, how they were perfectly fitting before coming back to your face. “I’ll make love to you.“ He whispered as he moved down on his elbows to be closer to your face. 

There it was again. 

That warm feeling in your chest.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply, taking your time in his mouth, savoring the moment.

You wanted to hold on to that feeling, and never let it go.

You whined in his mouth as he slowly started to thrust harder, keeping his pace, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, under your neck.

He slowly kissed your cheek, then he trailed down to your neck, licking, nibbling at your skin as he groaned.

“W-why does it feel so good – “ He groaned with his voice strained as he nuzzled his face in your neck. You took a deep breath as you felt the sound of his voice doing things to you, making your stomach clench, making your heartbeat faster.

“I don’t know -” You whispered back as you caressed the back of your hair, his thrusts getting needier as he quickened the pace a bit. “But I don’t want it to go away.” You admitted, your words sending a shiver down his body, making him moan and raise his head to look at you.

“Me neither.” He mumbled as he thrusted faster, harder, his face contorting in pure pleasure.

“Oh, yes – Aem - “ You moaned as you felt your orgasm reaching you, your walls squeezing his cock inside you.

“I promise -” He panted. “We’re never fucking leaving this room.” He groaned as he slipped his hand between their bodies, searching for her clit and starting to rub it furiously.

“Please come -” He gasped. “I-I can’t –” He moaned as he spilled before even finishing his sentence, and seeing him so wrecked pushed you along with him.

You both panted as he fell on top of you, both your arms moving around the other, as if to make sure they were still there.

You knew that his promise was impossible to keep.

You had to get out at some point.

But you knew he was promising something else completely.

We’re in this together.

But for now, you guessed he indeed planned on not leaving his room any sooner.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy

[fen-luciel]

The mistakes of a Acolyte

ATTENTION

This post is an experiment; for now, I'll publish only a few chapters to see if anyone new is interested. The story is currently ongoing on AO3.

WARNINGS: Unplanned pregnancy/toxic relationship/Sith oc-reader

Story: Many wrong choices had brought me to that moment.

Few were the ones I regretted.

Getting pregnant by Qimir? I don't think I'll ever have a definite answer to that.

All I needed to know was that I had to escape to a galaxy far, far away.

-Chapters

---------------------- ♡ ---------------------

Shopping was perhaps the worst part of the week. Summer had just arrived on the planet and the heat had always been unbearable, so being five months pregnant, everything had worsened from 1 to 100. Especially the sweat under my breasts and the belly that was terribly enormous for my current situation. The only positive part was that occasionally some neighbor would recognize me to help, but that wasn’t one of those lucky days.

I continued to walk through the market, armed with bags full of groceries. There wasn’t much left, but I had to get at least the fruit before heading home. The streets were full of all kinds of people and aliens, the stalls in full swing, yet something was off.

It was a feeling... that I hadn't felt in months, as if the Force was around me. But not the usual hum of life around me, or... the presence of someone familiar, just a powerful force lurking.

I tried to look around but saw nothing suspicious or resembling a Jedi or a Sith. I sighed before continuing my walk to the end of the street where the fruit stall was. Fortunately, the Twi'lek there knew me well and ran over to take my bags and place them on the counter. "What were you thinking? Here alone, you need a hand" I laughed slightly, following her at a slower pace. "Yeah well, as a single mother, it’s difficult, don't worry, I'll grab the last things and head home," I slowly touched my stomach, looking around. "The usual?" She asked kindly, to which I nodded, continuing to look around for new things. "Do you have something sweeter than the usual purple fruit with the unpronounceable name?" I said with a sly smile. "Unfortunately not, rather, do you want my husband to accompany you home? These are really a lot of bags" she replied, but I shook my head before taking the wallet from my bag and leaving the credits on the counter. "Don't worry, it’s not far and—" "And we will help her," said a male voice behind me.

It was like a flash of realization, behind me, strong and clear, I could feel the Force pulsing alive, after months of being shut off from it. I turned sharply and in front of me, two men in Jedi uniforms smiled kindly. My breath caught in my throat; it was impossible for them to know me, and I certainly didn't recognize them, but it was obvious they were here for me. And not just to help a poor pregnant woman.

"Excuse me, I..." but the taller of the two with dark skin took the bags the Twi'lek had handed him, full of groceries. "Wait..." "Don't complain, Sabrina, you're lucky to have two Jedi helping you, now go home and rest" she interrupted with a smile while I stood bewildered at the counter. "It's okay, Miss Sabrina, we'll accompany you home" said the other, offering me an arm which I reluctantly took. I certainly couldn’t make a scene in the store, or all the cover I had built would be blown, and in this condition hiding again might be impossible.

We walked out of the store slowly; despite the tension, I couldn’t deny that support was useful after all the walking I had done today. "So? Do you intend to introduce yourselves?" I said looking ahead, keeping my face stoic. The older man nodded before indicating himself. "You're right, we were rude. I am Master Sol, and this is Knight Yord, we apologize for the sudden intrusion, but we have been looking for you." I glanced at him sideways; the name Sol was familiar, although it could mean anything. "I am Sabrina. But let’s be honest, you're not here to help random passers by; we're on a distant planet in the Outer Rim, the Jedi have no supervision here, are you perhaps on vacation?" I said with a tight smile, allowing myself a nervous joke. Maybe I was too hasty with the questions, but I preferred to be the one asking rather than answering them. The two laughed briefly as we continued towards home; at this point, acting suspiciously would be worse. It wasn’t as if I could run very far; it was obvious the two were not mere padawans or inexperienced. "Actually, we're here for you. Or rather, we believe you know someone we're looking for" Sol said, still with a gentle smile. I looked at him confused, but my heart began to beat fast in my chest. I wanted to stay calm, afraid the two could sense my mood change, but the terror that my worst nightmare would come true clouded my rationality. There could be many possibilities, or just one, maybe being caught now would be better.

I freed myself from his grasp, pulling out the keys in front of the apartment building where I lived, searching for the door card. "Oh yeah? And who? I guess you have a name" the card activated, opening the glass doors. I gently touched my belly to hide the trembling of my hands. Neighbors came out right at that moment, an elderly couple who greeted me kindly. "Oh dear, you went shopping alone? Fortunately, you met these kind gentlemen to help you, you shouldn’t strain yourself in your condition." I could only smile at their concern. The affection people had shown me here since they found out I was a single mother was constant, help, advice, an atmosphere I had rarely encountered in my life and which had truly made me fall in love with this place. "I know, but it was really an emergency, I swear I'll ask for help next time" I replied, nodding slightly at other kind admonitions before waving goodbye and continuing to my apartment. Reaching the elevator with the two Jedi silently following me until then. "You have a warm neighborhood" said Sol as we went up to the fourth floor. I nodded, glancing at them behind me when the doors opened, and we walked into the hallway. "Yes, they’ve all been kind since I arrived, I’ve been lucky. Anyway, you were saying..." finally in front of the door, I took the right key from my pocket, but just as I was about to continue, the other young man spoke for the first time, interrupting me. "Does the name Qimir mean anything to you?"

It was like a bucket of cold water in the face. Of course. Obviously, they were looking for him. How could I have even hoped it was something else? Everything had been too quiet; it was obvious it wouldn’t stop without me, but now... there were Jedi knocking at my door. Asking if I knew him. So maybe all was not yet lost. "Sabrina? Did you hear what we said?" I turned to realize the two were looking at me, confused and a bit worried. Sol was staring at me intensely; it was obvious he understood that I knew something, I had lost awareness of my surroundings for a few seconds. "Yes, I'm just... very tired" I replied in a lower voice than I wanted. I turned to the door to open the lock, my hands visibly trembling, and they noticed it too. I tried to reach for the lock, but Sol's gentle hand took the card from me and opened the door. "Here, let's go in, you need to sit down."

The first lights of sunset were starting to enter through the window I had left open. The apartment was in shadow thanks to the sunshade of the windows, leaving the place mostly in the dark. I walked slowly into the living room, Sol at my side, concern written on his face. I turned to Yord, who still held the shopping bags, and looked around confused for a few seconds. Qimir's name echoed in my chest, choking my throat. "Can I..." but he seemed to understand immediately, shaking his head as he placed the bags on the kitchen counter. "I'll put away the groceries."

I stood there like an unsure idiot, unsure of what to say or do, as Yord opened my fridge in silence while emptying the bags. Sol's gentle but firm touch pushed me onto the sofa, where several pillows were positioned to help me sit comfortably and get up alone. I was gently pushed onto them, my tense body melting into the soft material, my feet on fire, but the worst was still in my chest, where my breath struggled to pass through as I kept myself contracted and tense. "We know you were... friends, I guess." He began rummaging through his clothes before pulling out an old printed photograph.

I recognized it immediately, the same tear at the corner, the slight stain of spilled coffee at the base, and in the image, me... and Qimir. I remember the day we took it; we had the hologram, but it was inconvenient to carry, so we had it printed, two identical ones to always carry with us on missions, both smiling while his arm warmly circled my waist, my head on his shoulder, my gaze happy... almost... in love. Ironic that I realized it when I had already made the most drastic decision. Qimir, however, always had that smile, the one of someone who knows too much and doesn't want to tell you out of spite. I hated his insolence when I first met him, but over time I got used to it as he got used to my ironic comments. We loved teasing each other; at first glance, we looked like two insolent kids... two lovers taking a photo. "Please, Sabrina. We need your help. This man... has committed unspeakable actions. The Order has been searching for him for years, and now more than ever, we need a hand," but I could only continue to look at that photo. I already knew everything. Of course, I knew.

"Where did you get it?" I said, keeping a more steady tone. Sure, I had left, but I wouldn’t betray him. Especially not to the Jedi. I was good at lying, but I needed to play this better; they definitely wouldn’t leave without answers, and they knew I had them. I took the photo and held it in my hands. I still had mine, hidden in the same box where I had placed the few things I hadn’t had the courage to throw away. "We managed to bring him out into the open after months of intensive searches. When he escaped, we searched through his things and the only thing that linked him to someone or something was this photo." Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I knew he hadn’t been caught or that he was on my trail, though I couldn’t be sure about the latter. Keeping our photo wasn’t typical behavior for him towards things that pissed him off. I took for granted that he wasn’t happy about my disappearance.

"I... I can't tell you much, I haven't seen him in months, I cut off all contact... and before you ask, I have no idea where he might be, disappearing without a word was his hobby." I had to choose my words carefully, say half-truths that would seem plausible without exposing myself... or us too much. "But in the photo you look close" continued Yord, walking near the couch, the groceries neatly stored on the shelves. I let out a sigh mixed with a smile. "Oh yes. Something like that, but we've always been two solitary souls, we needed our own space, so we had our secrets" I sighed before casually dropping the photo on the wooden table in front of me. "Honestly, I wouldn't know how to help you find him and I'd prefer to stay as far away from him as possible." Sol beside me adjusted his seat before giving a reassuring smile. "Anything about him would be helpful. I also want to understand your relationship more... if you think you're in danger, you can tell us, we can protect you." I gripped the fabric of my dress to distract myself from the laugh threatening to escape my throat. "The fact that you are here is already a problem for me. For all I know, he might have followed you. Qimir is many things, but he’s not an idiot." I sighed before starting to get up slowly. Yord at my side leaned in to give me a hand, but I ignored him, placing a foot on the edge of the table to try and unlace my shoes, at which point the Jedi bent down again to do it for me. "Wait, there's no need-" "I want to. You look tired, and we're disturbing you, it's the least I can do." I looked at him a bit irritated, the kindness of the Jedi had always seemed insincere to me, so good it felt fake. But I let him do it, it’s not every day you have a Jedi kneeling in front of you of his own will, and I couldn't deny it amused me terribly. "Anyway, Qimir and I were friends for a long time before..." I considered whether to tell the truth or not, but the months were too precise for me to take such a risk; if they had already asked someone about me, they would realize I was hiding something. "Well, as you can see with your own eyes, before we became something more," I gave a strained smile, indicating my belly. With my feet free of the shoes, Yord standing in front of me looked at me intensely, they had probably already considered that my pregnancy might not be with a casual someone. I walked towards the window, enjoying the twilight sky. "I left as soon as I found out I was expecting. I... I knew what kind of life he led, I imagined he wouldn’t let go just like that, I was afraid of his reaction to everything. To us, to this baby, to what he would do as a result. So I took my things and left." Sol was frowning at my words. Or maybe at the casual way I said them. Too bad. "You knew he was a Sith? About his actions? And you stayed with him anyway?" he asked. "Yes. Well, it’s not like he was very explicit about it, he told me it was his religion, it’s not like I was an expert, he talked about passion and... I don’t know, it seemed normal to me. I’ve met civilians with worse morals" I said honestly at the last part. The two seemed satisfied with my answer so I continued, "Besides, it’s not like I’m some innocent soul. That's how I met him, I was smuggling goods and sometimes we collaborated." Yord gave me an arrogant smile, "and you’re telling us this openly?" I chuckled in response. "I know my rights, kid, we’re outside your jurisdiction and even if accused, you wouldn’t have proof. Who knows, maybe I’ve been doing this job since you became a Jedi." I gave him a smirk which he returned mockingly. For being one of them, he seemed strangely likable.

"In any case. I would kindly ask you to continue this conversation another day, it’s getting late and I’d like to be alone." The two exchanged a look but nodded understandingly, "certainly, maybe we can continue tomorrow?" said Sol as he got up and moved towards the door, followed by the younger one. "Certainly," I replied with a half-smile, following them to the door. At the hallway, they gave a small bow before giving a final goodbye and walking towards the corridor. Reaching the elevator, Yord gave me one last look before smiling and winking at me. Only when I heard the elevator start did I allow myself to release the breath I had been holding until then. Back inside the house, a sense of terror hung in the air.

I was in deep shit.

Fuck.

[moodymisty]

Hiii!!! I LOVE everything you write since I followed you a long time ago. I would like to read something about Rogal Dorn. I can't find ANYTHING about him and i just can't stop thinking about him.

I don't mind if it's smut, whatever you feel confortable with, but if it can have a little bit of fluff i would LOVE It.

Thank you for everything.💞

Author's note: Ok so I am deciding to do an idea i have for awhile, that I believe someone else posted but I cannot remember who. anyhoo, enjoy. Perhaps it's not as fluffy as you might have wanted, but fluffy Dorn is sort of awkward, nice Dorn so I hope you still like it;;

Relationships: Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader (reader is a remembrancer)

Warnings: Perturabo calls you a whore but other than that nothing really of note

"I never did thank you properly for all of the clothes, Lord Dorn."

You look up at him, golden armor still shining in the relative dimness of the bridge- to only get a light nod of his head in response.

Inwit is freezing, unfathomably cold, and the clothes you had worn previously on Olympia failed to cut it. That had been a very quick, and very upsetting realization. Dorn had- in his stalwart silence - requisitioned you more only a few days later. Many more, custom-made. They were lined with warm furs and comfortable, built for hard winds and ice, trapping your body heat close to you. You had taken some of the layers off since you were arriving to Terra, a planet with a much more tempered climate. You don't miss the burning of your cheeks and frozen snot, but you do miss the planet overall.

Terra... Coming here makes you nervous. You know who is going to be here. Take a few deep, self-assuring breaths before looking in Dorn's general direction. The large glass viewport at the front of the bridge illuminates most of the floor, casting you all in a variety of colors.

"Lord Dorn, may I ask you a question about something?"

He turns to you, looking down at your hesitant expression.

"Did Perturabo make you beg permission to speak to him? Just ask it."

He did, more often than not. You remember more than a few instances.

"Well, he was actually going to be what I wanted to ask about."

You twisted your wrists in your hands, trying to do some sort of fidget to focus on while Dorn had his full attention on you.

"Has he always hated you? The entire time I was in his company, there was always just undertone of pure, seething hatred for you, but whenever I saw you, you didn't seem to even care."

There are a few other Imperial Fists on the bridge, watching as Terra comes into view. You're in the process of getting caught by the planet's orbit and mooring close enough to come down to the surface. You can see the palace already, even from this far, a golden target that is still growing larger with each day.

"Perturabo has always been that way, yes."

Dorn turns to briefly give an order to a questioning Imperial Fist, before returning to you and his explanation.

"He sees competition in my existence. I don't care."

Polux approaches, choosing to stand on your opposing side and wait patiently for his moment to speak. You give him a brief smile as greeting before returning your eyes to his primarch. Dorn looks forward and out the viewport, watching the palace of his design inch closer and closer.

"Sanguinius and Horus' rivalry is even matched. They both find growth from it. Perturabo's rivalry with me is a childish urge to beat me into the ground and prove to everyone that he is better."

You don't disagree with him in even the slightest. Perturabo was always so desperate to beat Dorn above all else, even to the detriment of other facets of his life.

"Despite the fact that he isn't?"

Dorn looks at you fully again, eyebrows raised and you swear, you swear, the inkling of a smile on his face.

"You have spent more time with him than I. Do you think that?" He turns on his heel slightly, armor shifting and clanking against eachother to face you more.

"Do you think The Emperor was right in claiming me Praetorian over him?"

You've been with the Imperial fists for a few months now, and this is far from the first time you've spoken to Dorn. Far more than you ever interacted with Perturabo, despite the fact that Dorn is known for being tight lipped and humorless.

You nod.

"Yes, I do. Perturabo's plans are always so complex, and he hinges them and his entire self worth on being better than you. And when he fails, he sulks." You smile. "I don't imagine you or your sons to be the type to sit and pout if something went wrong. You would all be too busy trying to correct it."

Dorn looks down at you, face as stoic and frozen as you've become quite used to. You don't know entirely what he's thinking, but you don't get a chance to ask before someone else's voice interrupts you.

Polux has a younger astartes walk up to him, stating some information that flows in one ear and out the other for you before walking away. He turns to the both of you, looking two his primarch but referring to the both of you.

"My lord, we are ready to depart for the palace. Is she accompanying us?"

You've never stepped foot on Terra before, to even come into it's orbit is an idea that you could barely handle; Alongside the fact that the primarch and his captains have little need for you there. You gather yourself, preparing to return to the Librarium aboard the ship to continue your work before Dorn's voice stops you in your tracks and sends almost every emotion through you at once.

"She is. Let us go."

Your first time on Terra was going well, in the first hour or so.

Dorn isn't much of a communicator, so he has spent the long of it conversing with his men, giving orders even while not aboard his ship. Either orders given to send back to the Phalanx, or to the Imperial Fists on Terra assisting with the Palace construction. You stand idly by and occasionally draw, or write something down that interests you.

The smoothness stops however, when Dorn looks away abruptly. His sons are confused, before they also perk up not a moment later. You look to Polux, as you know he's the one who will most likely acquiesce to your questions.

"What is it?" You say. He tilts his head vaguely in your direction, but doesn't actually look at you.

"Primarch Perturabo is on his way. He must've heard we had arrived," Polux takes a breath, presumably steeling himself for whatever is to come.

"His... footsteps are quite loud." Not a few more moments later now even you can hear them, and then see him shortly thereafter.

Perturabo storms closer; You can tell by the red flush over his tanned skin, that he is beyond furious.

Dorn looks down at you, and points behind him. His voice leaves no room for question, not as if you would even considering doing so in the first place.

"Go to Vulkan."

The Salamander's primarch had finished speaking to Dorn not long ago, now standing across the massive open area that you presumed served as a training ground for the astartes. You do as your now primarch commands and rush towards him, feeling his eyes on him as you approach.

"I am terribly sorry to bother you Lord Vulkan, but My lord Dorn told me to-" He ushers you closer with a hand, his voice gentle despite his overwhelming size.

"I am well aware of your circumstances, and what is more than likely about to play out. You can stay here with me."

You take refuge close to the Salamander's primarch, both standing and watching as Perturabo confronts Dorn. Multiple of his Imperial Fists straighten up and hold themselves at the ready, prepared to fight for their primarch if it ever be needed.

"Dorn!"

A disrespectful finger points his way, but Dorn pays it no mind. The white fabric of Perturabo's Olympian clothes flow softly and comfortably in the gentle wing, in contrast to the sharp, unforgiving features of his face.

"You think you can just steal from me now? Are you truly so bold now that you're praetorian?"

Dorn only speaks up when Perturabo is close enough that he doesn't have to yell.

"She wanted to leave."

Dorn speaks plainly, bluntly, as if he's just totally uncaring of the conversation.

You've learned over time that Dorn is far from emotionless; He merely doesn't waste it on things he deems pointless. This is pointless, and so he only speaks with the most blunt, monotone voice. It pisses Perturabo off to an unfathomable degree.

To think he was so upset about your departure without his dismissal. He had been nothing but cold and cruel to you, despite the fact that you were merely there to document his legion's progresses.

"I don't care what she wanted. She was indebted to my legion, and I will not tolerate deserters no matter how useless I think they are,"

Perturabo yells. Once his frustration at Dorn is exhausted enough that his attention can be deviated, he turns his gaze to you.

It feels like the gravity of a planet is pushing down onto you, the sheer weight of his anger. Even from so far away. Even the weight of Primarch Vulkan's hand on your shoulder does nothing to shield you from it.

"I hope you heard me, you lying, traitorous little whore. I hope you know I'll wring your neck myself when I catch you."

It takes every bit of energy to avoid crumbling instantly, at the threat of a primarch. Thankfully he leaves shortly after, storming off with the flowing white fabric of his clothes flowing behind him.

Vulkan sighs. You think he said something to reassure you, but you can't hear it over the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"I truly don't think there is much we can do to change him." Corvus- whom you've only just realized was here the entire time with a startle upon hearing his voice - shakes his head.

"His desire to be superior is tripped up at every point by his insufferable personality."

Vulkan looks down at you as an Imperial Fist approaches.

"Are you alright?" He says, and the caring nature of it is a bit overwhelming.

"I, I hope so." Vulkan doesn't laugh, but there is a softness on his face as he smiles at you. Corvus simply watches, and you once again realized that he was there.

"We all know Dorn. He has mentioned you quite a bit,"

"For him," Corvus adds. Vulkan gives him a quick look before turning back to you.

"I do not think he would ever allow anything to happen to you."

The reassurance of a primarch is a feeling next to none; But so it's the threat of one. They both battle in your heart and soul as the Imperial Fist reaches you.

"Lord Dorn is going to have one of us escort you back to the ship."

You nod, looking up to Vulkan to thank him. He simply smiles and speaks before you have a chance to give any gratitude.

"Stay safe, little one."

You follow that Imperial Fist back, before he leaves you on your own close to your quarters. Once you get into them, the door shutting behind you with a hiss, your chest starts to tighten like something has a hold on it.

Every Iron Warrior now likely knows that Perturabo wants your head on a pike. You try to steady your breathing, dumping your papers onto your small desk and sitting on the edge of your bed with a soft thud.

It's getting harder to breath, you swallow a massive knot in your throat. You try to shake your leg, dig your fingers into your palms to stop the feeling, like your heart is going to explode, the thumping of blood in your ears-

It starts to level down after awhile, the room steadies and no longer is spinning. Once that happens, the tears actually start to come, and you keep trying to wipe them away each time a few fall.

You don't regret leaving the Iron Warriors; Olympia. You don't know what Dorn saw in you that was enough for him to offer you a place but you don't regret taking it. His legion's treatment of you compared to your time on Olympia was incomparable, but the petty nature you had witnessed from the primarch was now focused on you; Your betrayal of fleeing to Dorn.

You have your arms wrapped around yourself, tightening them as someone opens your door. Your momentary startle fades when you realize who it is.

It's Dorn. You don't know when his presence stopped being so intimidating, even as a primarch; Perhaps it's the time you've spent with him recently that has gotten you used to him.

"You have been crying."

It would surely be easy to tell- you can still fear the wetness of tears on your face. You take a deep breath and clear your throat to try and speak normally.

"Primarch Perturabo wants my beaten corpse at his feet, and I don't, I don't know what to do-"

He comes closer, face neutral and stoic. You try and contain the emotion on your face.

Stupid, all of it, is what Perturabo would've said to you. You were always a stupid, pointless inconvenience forced upon him. But yet one he was still so upset to see leave.

"I knew very well how he would behave when I offered you a place here. I will not allow him to harm you."

In his own, odd way, the sentence calms you. It's not a lie, it is the utmost truth put into blunt, simple words. You sniffle and unwrap your arms from around yourself, returning to some level of normalcy.

"Thank you..." You say, and Dorn- to your surprise - kneels.

"Do not thank me for something I should do. I put you in this predicament and made you an enemy of him."

Dorn is quiet for a moment. You look at him questioningly, but he doesn't seem to notice. Then suddenly a hand rests heavy on your shoulder, and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

It's only a split second, it's chaste and quick, and he pulls away as a string of spit snaps between you both. You barely even have a chance to process it all; A primarch just kissed you. You had liked him, but you firmly pushed those thoughts from your mind for the sheer absurdity of them.

“You shouldn’t cry.” At first you think he’s telling you not to be weak- To suck it up.

“I, should not have allowed him to speak to you that way. I allowed him to make you cry.”

Crying is nothing; the fact that he has said he would protect you from an enraged primarch that by all intents and purposes you betrayed, is more than worth its weight. You don’t care about the crying.

"I'll be fine. I just needed a minute, and," You laugh. "Hopefully that's the last time I ever see his face." Dorn doesn't smile, but his voice has a gentle tilt of amusement that makes you smile a bit wider.

"I admit I would be jealous of you if that were to be the case."

You don't envy that he will have to continue to deal with Perturabo, especially now that your presence has created a deeper rift. Alongside his duties as Praetorian.

Dorn rises up from his knee and reaches out a hand.

"I am going to speak to my men about progress of the Palace walls. Come with me."

You take his hand, and you expect him to just allow you to pull yourself up, but instead he wraps his fingers around it and holds your hand, guiding you out of your room. He lets go moments after, but the gesture was there none the less.

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it. 

Well, not until a few years later. 

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room. 

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted. 

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney. 

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for. 

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him. 

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!” 

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach. 

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away. 

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time. 

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman. 

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice. 

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago. 

Yes, this has been going on for that long. 

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.” 

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable. 

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for. 

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear. 

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see. 

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him. 

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you. 

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying. 

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” 

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop  his forehead. 

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?” 

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…” 

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle. 

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.” 

“Sidney…” 

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be. 

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course. 

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.” 

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?” 

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake. 

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—” 

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?” 

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.” 

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?” 

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.” 

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?” 

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?” 

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?” 

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney. 

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo. 

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you? 

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy. 

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest. 

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father. 

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.  

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons. 

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks. 

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one. 

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name. 

“Taylor.” 

She wastes no second, “Is it true?” 

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer. 

“Come in.” you say. 

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities. 

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies. 

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work. 

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen. 

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over. 

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it. 

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy. 

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand. 

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization. 

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer. 

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?” 

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time. 

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.” 

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him. 

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side. 

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.” 

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.” 

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke. 

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you? 

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it. 

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him. 

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?” 

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.” 

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.” 

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under? 

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed. 

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you. 

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name. 

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-” 

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.” 

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you. 

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left. 

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was. 

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season. 

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living. 

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college. 

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed. 

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter. 

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees. 

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t. 

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years. 

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell. 

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words. 

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket. 

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.” 

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home. 

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight. 

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with. 

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell. 

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five. 

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”. 

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand. 

“No, it’s all right.” you say. 

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched. 

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands. 

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.” 

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind. 

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered. 

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him. 

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel. 

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.” 

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing. 

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?” 

He sees you nod. 

You give him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

series taglist:

@astrydis @sagebarzal @heysimps @barzybarz @penstxgal1968 @hockeytransplant @thescooby-gang @cherrylita @oleksiak-pettersson @matsbarzal @nhlgirl16 @titsbeauvillier @captainsimsam @matbarzyy @josthours @jostful @kazzilla @countryclubstarkey @barzysreputation @hoiyheadharpies @myhockeyworld87 @tovvaa @stfutkachuk @floralyn @barriesweet @je-ne-regrette-rien @cavill83 @princessphilly @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887 @just-gaily-things @virtuallighttrashgiant @klutchnetsov @cutiesara23 @lovethepreds @sxpollock @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @sweetlittlegingy @4ambagelbites @c-tangerine @2kidcrew @mbls2022 @barzeel @art-m-anic @squidlywiddly87 @midnightdancewiththestars @partypoison00 @aboveaveragehockeyboys @pagirl6866 @mikkorantanev @carter91 @leafs-forever @mitchsmullet @hockeyallthetime @hockeyunits @love-like-woaah @loserrlauraa @heatherawoowoo @kenyadakblalock @sc87 @livelysim @lordescomeback @dudde-44 @prettyboyjackhughes @stlbluesbrat21 @dorotheathe1 @elitebarzal @barzal-mat @spine-buster @canadian-girl87 @hugheswhore @barznasty2point0 @iamthebonecarver @hockeypills @dreamer1430 @tregua-oca @caprielly @nationalhoranleague @jessicascontes @meishaabae @ballsakic @lovethepreds @colecauliflower @punkharts @ilyasorokinn @whoeverineedtobe @lorrmorr @stargurl-battleship @thescooby-gang @licia332 @kidlnthedark @lilyevanswhore @mae114 @unfortunatelyiloveu @unfortunatelyilove @Heatherlcrosby87 @harrysfishbowl @0cean-vib3s @ilikeblue25 @wherethedinonuggies @nebsuli @thetoxicegg @sensoryyoverload @xserenax-13 @HockeyJedi13 @fallinallincurls @labellederessaca @besthockeyfics @72bread-pasta88 @iheartsidneycrosby @whatthepucknow @monalicia @eclecticfashionbookszipper @cappot @xelagirlxo @oceanlover0497 @nm-r @timahtime @dreamer1430 @beaubuckley @hockeyandsht @niki-is-a-thing @bookoftenderthoughts @exdepressedstressednotwelldress @duchesschameleon @majdoline @bookoftenderthoughts @prettybiching @killersandmonkeys @dreamsndior @svndraoh @2kidcrew @hock-ee @alo-delmar @afuturemilf @notanaccount-anymore @brias1201 @idkalexaaw @ghosttkat @thevannuckss @iangiemae @ashleymarine @abrianna14 @createdbyperfectfury @annie170315 @UrImaginesPimp @lemondropirwin @jenn22xoxo @theblushinglittle @ninjabritches @williamkarlssons @aecw @ninjabritches @Iminlovewithenchiladas @love-like-woaah @brehonodea @Fairygardenss @puck-up-sticks @Bxdbxtxh15 @penstxgal1968 @mp0625 @moon78universe @endlesswoods @bruins-simp @jonny-toes @lazysportsfanfornhl @queenmendes @tysonbarriedefensesquad @savage-aespa @kittymacaroons @pattiemac1 @simpforbucky17 @lwstuff @double-j @cynthia1guardia @taeminortaemout @midgasaurus0809 @nicoleloveshockey @oli-birchhall @cleofailsatjellyfishing @walkonthewiideside @cavill83 @lo-bells @beccaiscold @horchatayarroz @liv2640 @yassassqueen @lukeythemoosey @fadingwolfprincess @nm-r @electralove-m @hopewealwaysfeel @emsully2002 @idkjj04 @evelynevelyn19 @dasiysthings @heatherloves87 @hockeybabe87 @lady-laura-speaks @lynnismypseudonym @puckmetwice @nhlfs @l0veforhugh3s @matthewss34 @magicgif @lethalvenus @mysticaldonkey @oceanluver0497 @alexlynn16 @joansiekennedy @kirillkaprizovswife @trashstacey @wkndwlff @generally-disinterested @shadowwolf009 @ @ratqueeee @casualhilarity @theincognitoqueen @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @parkersmjs @5secondsofonedirection222 @love-like-woaah @rebbie444 @jack17s @sleepretreat @alicechugstea @velvetpucks @bellstwd @smoooore @books-hlmc @foreverateengirl @lupinslibraries @angelmitsuri  @dasiysthings @crimsonred13 @justamessandahalf @coldheartedmar @naffeesaa @bradmarchand4prez @nonsensical-nonsense @ru-kru @noooraaa234 @alwaysclassyeagle @alice4313

note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Peewee

————————————————————————-

Summary: You take your boyfriend, Joe, to your little brother’s first tackle football game. Your little brother, Tommy, has always been such a huge fan of your NFL boyfriend and both you and Joe loved how much he idolized him.

Warnings: So so fluffy.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Imagine universe: None! (Misc.)

A/N: Joe isn't injured and the Bengals have a very late bye week!

————————————————————————-

December 18th, 2023

If you told me a year ago, when I started dating Joe, that we would have to go two months without seeing each other, I wouldn't have even agreed to go on a date with him.

Joe and I had an… age gap. He was 27, with an amazing career and a life built for himself, and I was 20 and still in college.

He was in Cincinnati while I was in Athens attending Ohio University.

We had met through our fathers who were both on the coaching staff at OU. We had a family dinner together, and Joe was the only one of Jimmy’s three boys who was able to make it.

Joe swears up and down still to this day that it was love at first sight when he saw me. He was just out of a relationship and wasn't looking for anything but he says that all changed when he saw me.

Now back to the two months without each other. Obviously, we were long-distance, and it was the mid-football season for him so that meant he was busy all of the time. I had just gotten done with finals for my fall semester, so up until now I had been super busy with university stuff.

Today I would see Joe for the first time since early October, and I couldn't be more excited.

My parents were even super excited because they were the ones on the receiving end of my griping the past couple of months.

My little brother was also super excited. Tommy was 10 years old and playing his first-ever tackle football game today. It was my dad’s travel football team he was playing for. My dad doesn't trust the coaches at his school so Tommy’s not allowed to play there.

Tommy’s only request for his first game was that his favorite NFL player be there.

It was Joe of course, and he promised he would be there.

He didn't disappoint either, just as my dad and Tommy took the field, Joe texted me saying he was a couple of minutes away.

“Are you excited?” - my mom nudged me

“Yeah. I've missed him.” - you smiled

“Oh, we know.” - your mom

I glared at her and rolled my eyes before I pulled out my phone to pass the time.

“Look, there he is!” - my mom

My head snapped up and there he was in all of his glory. Joe was walking over to the bleachers while watching the field.

“Go!” - my mom

I jumped up and ran down the stairs, seeing my mom get her phone out to record in the corner of my eye.

Joe by now had realized I'd seen him and stopped walking to open his arms for me.

When I was within inches of him I jumped into his arms.

His strong arms wrapped around my body and he slowly swayed with me.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” - Joe

“I missed you so much.” - you

“I missed you more. A day didn't go by that I didn't wish I was with you.” - Joe

My legs wrapped around his waist and my arms were around his neck. I knew that Joe wasn't a fan of PDA but this moment was too good, and there were barely any people in the bleachers anyways.

“You’re not allowed to leave me for that long again.” - you

“Never again sweetheart. I'll take you with me if I have to.” - Joe

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too…. so much.” - Joe whispered

A few moments of just hugging later, I spoke up.

“Can you walk us up to my mom? I don't want to let go yet.” - you

“Of course.” - Joe chuckled

My grip on him tightened as he easily started walking in his usual loose-hipped strides.

Climbing the stairs wasn't a problem for him either with me in his arms, Joe was taking two steps at a time.

“Hey Joe!” - your mom

“Hey! It's good to see you.” - Joe

“I don't know if you can tell, but she's missed you a lot.” - your mom

“I think I picked up on that.” - Joe chuckled

Joe gently lowered me onto the bleacher and plopped down next to me. We always sat at the top so we could sit against the wall of chain fencing.

I couldn't help but admire how cute he looked right now. Joe was wearing light grey sweatpants with a dark grey sweatshirt and flannel over top of it. The white backward hat was the icing on the cake.

“You're so handsome, Joe.” - you laid your head on his shoulder

“You say that all the time, baby.” - Joe smiled

“Because I mean it.” - you

Joe looked down at me with a large smile and kissed my forehead. One of his arms looped around my waist as he pulled away.

“Well, you're pretty gorgeous yourself.” - Joe

Feeling my cheeks heating up, I hid my face in his neck. Joe would usually try to make me blush more, but he was enjoying the heat of your red cheeks against his cold neck.

My mom handed Joe a blanket to which he gave her a thankful smile before draping it over our legs.

“You warm?” - Joe

“Mhm. You emit a lot of heat.” - you giggled

“Good.” - Joe

“By the way, you're going to have to activate your muscles and carry my bags to your car later. I have a few.” - you

“I’ll start warming them up.” - Joe joked

My mom laughed along with me and I couldn't feel any happier in that moment.

——

I knew Joe would cheer the boys on, but I didn't expect him to be jumping up, yelling, warning the defense when the other team was doing a pass play, and so much more.

This one time specifically, the game was kind of getting slow so I was falling asleep on Joe’s shoulder. My brother’s team got a touchdown and Joe abruptly jumped, waking me up in the process.

“Sorry, my love.” - Joe sat back down and pulled you back into his chest

The scene made me wonder about my future with Joe. Maybe one day we’ll be doing the same thing with our own son.

“I'm so proud of Tommy. He acts so maturely football-wise for his age.” - Joe

His statement sealed my previous thought. There will be a future for us, and maybe I'm right about us cheering on our future son.

——

Come halftime, my dad’s team was up 12-0.

“Joey.” - you nudged your boyfriend, who was deep into a conversation with your mom.

“Mhm?” - Joe

“Can you get me some hot chocolate from the concession stand?” - you

“Of course. I'll be right back. Do you want anything to snack on?” - Joe

“Mm, no I'm okay. Thank you! I love you!” - you

Joe stood up and moved the blanket onto me more before placing a kiss on my cheek.

“I love you too.” - Joe grinned and walked away

A few minutes later, Joe walked back with a drink carrier and a paper bag in his other hand.

“What is all of that?” - you laughed

He handed me and my mom a hot chocolate before setting one down for himself.

“You said you didn't want a snack but I know that means you wanted one.” - Joe handed you the bag

Gosh, he knew me so well. After giving Joe an appreciative smile I opened the bag to find three chocolate chip cookies.

“There was an older lady up there selling baked goods so I thought I'd snag a couple cookies. You can have one if you want to, y/m/n.” - Joe

“Well aren't you sweet.” - your mom took a cookie from you as you handed it to her

My mom happily munched on her cookie and I couldn't help but laugh at my own thoughts.

“What?” - Joe

“You're trying to impress my parents, huh?” - you

“Well, I’m taking you three hours away for a week! I want them to know you're safe staying at my place.” - Joe

That's probably what I'm most looking forward to out of this whole day. After the game is over, I'm going with Joe to Cincinnati where I'll be staying at his house for the week since it's their Bye.

“Joey, they already know that. I wouldn't be going if they didn't. Also, I'm an adult I can do what I want!” - you

“Babe. I know you're an adult. I just don't want them to be wary because I'm an older guy.” - Joe

“Joseph, you're seven years older stop acting like you're forty.” - you

Joe rolled his eyes but I scooted closer to him and threw the blanket over his lap.

“You're allowed to want to impress my parents, but don't feel like you have to. They love you, because I love you.” - you

My heart did pretty much the exact opposite of the rest of my body and warmed deeply when Joe placed a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose. It was a signal that he didn't know what to say back in the moment but appreciated my statement.

——

“Joe!” - Tommy ran out of the gate and up to Joe, who had his arms open for your brother

The team had won, thankfully and now we were all standing and waiting for the kids to get out of their post-game huddle.

I couldn't put into words how I felt when I watched Joe hug Tommy like his own brother. It was so sweet and I'd never felt so in love.

“You’ve got one good man, y/n.” - your mom

“I know.” - you grinned

My eyes drifted from my mom’s smiling face back down to my boyfriend, the love of my life, hyping up my little brother over a couple of his receptions.

That's when I knew Joe was the one.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: the fourth day of Christmassss

Guys who is she… consistently updating like this…

This fic came from my own mind! 🤍

Hope you enjoyed! 🫶

[bwat5-blog]

Caitlyn and Violet: Hope

Spoilers For All of Arcane

So, I must apologize. I know some of you were probably hoping for my usual encyclopedic breakdown of the events that make up the story of these two remarkable women. And truth be told, I have started and stopped attempts at that very thing many times, trying to express why their story means so much to me, and my thoughts on why it will continue to mean so much to so many, as time passes...

If that highly detailed point-by-point is more your speed, I have done so for the both of them across various posts and appreciate that you would read any of this to begin with. But, what I would like to discuss in this, why I think they have come to really stick with me, is hope.

An angry orphan from Zaun, a naïve heiress from Piltover, their story is of worlds colliding. This is not a new idea, "Star Crossed Lovers", "Opposite Sides Of The Tracks"... there are countless examples. The thing that makes Arcane, and by extension these characters so wonderful, is that the characters are so... so much more than that. And they can mean so much more than that to each other.

That angry orphan contains a heart wounded beyond imagining, yet strong as steel. That naïve heiress contains the strength to both forgive those who have terribly wronged her, and to stand in the breach against death itself alongside those who follow her.

It is their journey to find and understand the worth of these hidden depths that make them who they are, both through their own strength and through the bond they form with one another. Vi's life, is to put it bluntly, over before Caitlyn meets her. Seven years in a brutal, abusive prison, not on record, with no indication Marcus ever would have freed her. Her entire life is spent fighting for survival, and dwelling on all that she has lost, until an enforcer, the symbol of everything she hates, offers her a chance. Offers her hope.

Caitlyn comes from a life of wealth and privilege, that is violently upended through her eye opening journey with Vi and everything that follows. She undergoes great loss, and great pain, and as she is swallowed that darkness we see the loss of hope in Violet and Caitlyn both. I have cited it a few times in discussions of the events of this story, but the lyrics from Hamilton's "Its quiet uptown" always return to me in times of thinking of both Vi's days in the pit and Caitlyn's as the commander.

"There are moments that your in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down"

Now of course, it is not simply the loss of relationship that drives both of these women into that lowest point. Nor is it solely the restoration of that love that pulls them out. But what they mean to one another, the promise of what might be... that is one of the central messages of this story. To let go of the darkness of yesterday, and embrace the hope of tomorrow.

After months apart, surviving great loss and tragedy, Caitlyn and Violet reunite on the ridge outside of Viktor's commune. I spoke on this recently, but I was confused at first during this moment. It seemed almost, comical. Caitlyn was so stiff, derisive. But then I remembered their first meeting:

Vi inside of her cell, the defenses she had built around herself as the cocky and brash inmate to hide her overwhelming pain on full display, and Caitlyn. Standing tall, apart, seeming almost to be having to make an effort to look down her nose at Vi. Until she finds out Vi had been abused inside that prison, that haven of the establishment she served, and steps over the line beginning a journey she never could have imagined would be so life-changing.

Thinking back on that, I realized what we are seeing is Caitlyn protecting herself. She has closed herself off to any possibility that the woman she loves could still care for her. Until she hears it... Cupcake... And in that moment thanks to the wonderful animation of this show, we see in her eyes, she knows that all is not lost. Perhaps things can never be as they were. But maybe.. there is hope they could be something new. Because even with everything she has done, Vi has not given up on her...

And it is when Vi's hope is failing... in Jinx, in Caitlyn, and in herself, perhaps in a way that she never would have recovered from, that Caitlyn returns to her in a prison cell. Offering that light that she once did, only stronger and more resolute. As she enters, Vi is in danger of falling into that darkness, lamenting that her belief in her sister has cost her everyone that matters to her. But Caitlyn comes to her, crossing the threshold of Vi's pain and it's not just that she relocated the guards, and set aside her hatred in favor of Vi's love. It's that she SEES Vi. She doesn't just trust Vi to make the right choice, but the worthy choice. Because she not only believes in Vi's heart, she honors it, she holds it as sacred, and in one simple action that could never be matched with words she shows Vi that her fierce love and hope in people is not a weakness, but her greatest strength.

Ultimately, after so much tragedy and pain, it is through fierce love, and hope without condition that they find their way back to one another. When I see them in the end, it is that hope that resonates me. They are broken, battered, grieving and in the midst of terrible loss. But their love has been through the fires of hell, and emerged. Stronger, and more real than it ever could have been. And it is with that bond in one another that they can move forward. The promise of tomorrow no longer a distant dream.

**Someone had the nerve to ask me why I keep using this gif. HAVE YOU SEEN THEM?!?!?**

Thank you for anyone who reads this. I know because of my own comments some were probably expecting the longer thing like I have been doing, but I just.... it wasn't what this needed from me. Anyway, keep standing up for stories that matter. Til next time.

[snowdrop-ivy]

Scott Street

Summary: Reader went back to the town she grew up in. What happens if she sees an old flame? Will they be strong enough to rekindle the fire? Or will they let the fire burn down?

A/N: Hey, I wrote this while listening to Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Hence the title, trying a different genre of writing so I hope you like it!

The town felt unchanged, as if time had paused in her absence. For her, though, everything was different. A decade had slipped away since she had left, and the only reason she returned was for her brother’s wedding. Once that was over, she intended to leave again, to retreat to the life she had built far from here.

As she strolled through the neighborhood, she sought familiar landmarks and faces that would reignite the memories of her childhood. But nothing stirred within her; the town seemed almost alien. It might have been the relentless passage of time that transformed it, or perhaps she had simply forgotten the moments tied to these places.

Stepping into the local mart, she was on a quest for snacks, but the cashier was a stranger. It used to be Ernie, the kind-hearted man who would slip her a candy bar when she didn’t have enough cash. The only constant was the cash register itself, a relic in a world that had moved on.

She wandered the aisles, searching for something—anything—that would quench her hunger or rekindle a flicker of nostalgia. Standing before the freezer, she pondered over a choice between Nat Light and Corona. Both beers had been staples in her youth, but they were now relics of a life she had chosen to leave behind. Everything connected to this town—the people, the places, the drinks—felt like ghosts of a past she had buried.

“Still a Corona girl?”

The voice sliced through her thoughts, startling her. She turned, and her stomach twisted at the sight of him. 

Bucky.

She hadn’t seen him in years, hadn’t heard his name whispered in conversation, hadn’t even allowed herself to think about him. He was one of the reasons she had left—his lingering presence and the complications that came with it. What did they even have? It hadn’t been a relationship; it had been a friendship, marked by a single night of passion and a few stolen kisses.

She swallowed hard, struggling to dislodge the tightness in her throat. “Bucky,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, as memories flooded back unbidden.

“Glad you still know my name,” he said, a hint of surprise lacing his voice. He leaned casually against the freezer, his gaze steady on her, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath his relaxed demeanor.

Y/N could feel the weight of their shared past hanging in the air between them, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. She hadn’t anticipated running into him here, not after all this time. Her heart raced, caught in a mix of nostalgia and anxiety.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to forget,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light, even as memories swirled around them. The laughter, the stolen moments—they had etched themselves into her mind, impossible to erase.

He chuckled softly, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his laughter, as if he too was grappling with the memories. “What brings you back?”

Her heart sank slightly at the question. “Just family stuff—my brother’s wedding. I’ll be gone again after that.” She kept her response vague, unwilling to dive into the details of her life or the reasons behind her long absence.

“Ah, a quick visit, then,” he said, his eyes searching hers, as if hoping for a glimpse into her life.

“Yeah, something like that,” she replied, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Their conversation felt familiar yet foreign, like picking up a book she had loved but realizing the pages had been torn out.

“Do you still drink these?” he asked, nodding toward the beer in her hand, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Haven’t drank it in a decade,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her own lips, trying to reclaim some of the lightness that had characterized their friendship.

He grinned, the expression softening the tension that had hung between them. “So you completely forgot about it?.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, her gaze drifting back to the freezer, suddenly unsure of what to do next. She could feel the weight of his presence, the memories threatening to pull her under.

As the silence stretched, she realized how much she had missed this—this banter, this connection, even if it was complicated. “So, how have you been? How’s Becca?” she finally asked, meeting his gaze once more, curiosity mingling with trepidation.

“Becca’s got her degree,” he said, the weight of his experiences evident in his tone. “But we’re good. Can’t complain. I can’t be more proud of my little sister”

“That's good to hear,” she replied, and for a moment, the world outside the mart faded away, leaving just the two of them standing in a familiar yet changed space. “I remember her telling me she’ll get that degree one day.”

“That day finally came,” he said, crossing his arms, gazing into her eyes to see if she still has memories of him. 

“You still play drums?” she asked, trying to bridge the gap of silence with the only piece of knowledge she had about him.

“No,” he grinned, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “I stopped. That was a lot of shit to carry.”

“Oh,” she replied, her heart sinking slightly. She bit her lip, feeling the weight of the conversation press down on her. There was so much she didn’t know about him anymore, so much time had passed. “How about the band?”

“They’re all married,” he admitted, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, though it was mixed with a tone of resignation.

She nodded, happy for his friends. “How about you?”

He lifted his left hand, revealing a carefree smile. “Free as a bird.”

“Just how you like it,” she said  like an echo of their past.

He stood still, the words hanging in the air, heavy with meaning. The truth clawed at his chest; he didn’t like it. He didn’t relish the freedom she spoke of. In fact, he craved the opposite—he wanted to be captivated, tied down by something real, something meaningful. But he’d lost that chance the moment she walked away.

That’s when she noticed it—the small tattoo on his wrist. Her initial, etched into his skin, a ghost of their shared past. The sight sent a rush of memories flooding back, and she quickly pulled her sleeves down, trying to hide her own matching tattoo, the one she had been afraid to remove.

“Still got it?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, as if he already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her cheeks warming. “I thought about getting it removed, but…” She trailed off, the words caught in her throat. The truth was, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of that piece of him, no matter how much time had passed.

“It’s a part of us, I guess,” he said, his gaze lingering on her wrist, a mix of nostalgia and something deeper reflecting in his eyes.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky stood frozen, their memories flooded through him. Reliving the past they had. Regretting the future they couldn’t. He thought about the last time they saw each other. It was his birthday party, the night where she admitted her feelings, but he turned it down because he was scared. Afraid of not being able to give her the future she needs. He was a drummer playing on a gig. That even wasn’t enough to feed himself. His answer that night was the one she hadn’t hoped for. She was content with what they had, as long as they’re together. As long as he could also risk their friendship. But he didn’t, he was not gonna let her bet on their future where he couldn’t provide. However, she took it another way, she took it as rejection.

“Bucky?” she called him, breaking the silence, her gaze piercing through the tension. “Are you okay?”

He forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask than a genuine expression. “Yeah, just… thinking about old times,” he replied, his heart heavy with the unspoken words trapped inside.

He hesitated, his expression shifting to something more vulnerable. “Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Leaving. Us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it resonated with the weight of their history.

“Bucky,” she took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. “I—”

“Have you forgotten about me? About what we had?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed. He knew that he wouldn’t have the chance to ask all these unsaid thoughts once again.

She felt bombarded by the questions he was throwing her way. The air thickened with tension as she searched his eyes, desperately trying to find the right words. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she finally managed, her voice shaky. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Did you really love me?” he asked, his voice low, searching her face for answers.

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, her heart racing at the weight of the question.

“Do you still?” He leaned in slightly, hope and fear mingling in his gaze.

“I don’t know,” she replied, sighing in defeat. The truth hung heavily between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Bucky took a step back, his expression clouded with disappointment. “I see,” he said softly. “When do you leave?”

Y/N felt a pang of longing as she considered his words. “In a week,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Here’s my number,” he gave her a card, his eyes gentle yet insistent. “When you find your answer, call me."

“Okay. I can do that.” She nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation.

“Good,” he said, a small smile breaking through the tension between them. “I gotta go.”

There was an awkward pause as Bucky hesitated, unsure whether to kiss her or simply walk away. After a moment of indecision, he settled on a hug. It felt safe, but meaningful. She returned the embrace, her arms wrapping around him a little tighter than she expected.

Bucky inhaled her scent, a mix of nostalgia and comfort that stirred memories of their past. He stayed longer than usual, holding her as if trying to freeze this moment in time, to capture the feeling of being close to her again.

Y/N could feel the weight of the embrace, the unspoken words hanging between them. Neither wanted to let go, but eventually, they did. Bucky gave her one last look before stepping back.

“Take care, Y/N,” he said softly.

“You too, Bucky,” she replied, watching him walk away, feeling like the door they’d cracked open was still waiting to be fully stepped through.

Bucky hesitated at the door, his hand hovering just above the handle as if crossing the threshold might take something away. He turned back, his voice soft yet firm as he called her name again.

"Yeah?" she asked, her gaze meeting his, her voice carrying a tinge of surprise.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said, his eyes gleaming with an emotion he didn’t dare name, a quiet plea hidden in the simple request.

Her heart pounded in her chest, an ache she couldn’t quite place. She managed a small smile, though her voice trembled slightly as she answered, “I won’t.”

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged with all the unsaid things, before he nodded and finally stepped out. Y/N went home with a heavy heart. As she stepped into her room, she locked the door behind her, craving solitude. She found herself drawn to the box in her closet, a repository of memories filled with photos and trinkets from her time with Bucky. Each picture stirred up a rush of emotions, from laughter to heartache, but as the days wore on, she kept herself busy, trying to drown out the memories that slipped through the cracks of her resolve.

Despite her efforts, the memories clawed their way back, reminding her of the intensity of their past. A sense of longing settled over her, intertwining with a deep ache of regret. She took a deep breath holding her plane ticket, she looked around to see a familiar face, but once again she didn’t. 

With a heavy heart, Y/N stepped inside, the sun shining brightly overhead, but it felt as though a shadow loomed over her. Each step felt like a farewell to the pieces of her heart that she had left behind. She thought of Bucky and the tender moments they had shared, the promise of rekindling something that had once burned so fiercely between them. But now, she was leaving again, and the weight of the decision pressed down on her like a leaden anchor. Perhaps it was for the good, she reached into her pocket and got out his card.

James Bucky Barnes.

Attorney at Law.

She smiled, feeling proud of his achievement. She took a deep breath before putting it back in her pocket. As she stepped inside the plane, she looked back, just one last glimpse of the town she used to know. The town that now treats her like a stranger.