#reservation dogs fix

[moka44]

Bear's girlfriend punching Jackie for him.

(Bear x native/mexican f!reader) A/n: this will take place season 1 ep 2. This is my first story so please be kind, its also 3 in the morning for me so if it didnt come out good thats also why lol. But I hope you enjoy.

TW: A lot of swearing

One minute Bear was walking down the alley, the next minute he was done getting jumped by Jackie and her gang, soon waking up to seeing a spirit, ”Aho! Young warrior!” Bear heard. After everything, Bear couldn't help but walk in pain to the one place he knew he can alway go to. As Bear arrived he knocked on the door until his eyes met beautiful dark brown eyes, he could stare at them all day and those eyes belonged to his beautiful girlfriend.

“Oh dios mio! Bear what the hell happened?” you asked. You made him sit down on the couch and closed the door. “Fucking jackie and her crew.” Bear said as he rested his body on the couch while putting his head up. “That puta!” you responded. You sat down next to him,setting the first aid kit on the coffee table that was in front of the both of you.

You started cleaning Bear's nose, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have you. How you are always there for him when he needs it, to the time they spend with each other, the way you laugh, how you speak full spanish when you are pissed even though it does scare him, he still loves that about you. How your long black wavy hair is always soft. How you teach him how to cook your favorite Mexican food. Remembering when he first saw you, when someone mentions you he always thinks about how beautiful you are. He can tell you anything but of course you are going to tell him what you think but he loves that about you, how you are honest with him and will tell him if he was in the wrong. When he told you about Daniel, you pulled him into a hug and let him cry his heart out. 

“What are you thinking about in that head?” Bear hears you ask him as you finished cleaning his nose. “Just how lucky I am to have you in my life.” he said, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. “Oh really?” Y/n giggled looking at him while you put an arm around his neck gently as your other hand is on his chest. “Yup and thankful for having you in it too, because if i didn't then i would be at the hospital right now.” Bear said, grabbing your hand that was on his chest kissing it. Bear looked over at you leaning in to kiss you. You can tell he put all his emotions into that kiss, you can feel it all. You pulled away to catch some air putting your forehead into his. “But you know you still have to go to the hospital, mi oso. That was actually where I was going to meet you guys before you got here. But just because I cleaned the blood from your nose doesn't mean it's not bad.” you told him.

“My mom going to freak the fuck out.” Bear said, sitting up and sighing. “I know but you still have to go babe.” you told him rubbing his back trying to comfort him. You soon get up from the couch going to the kitchen, grabbing some water and tylenol for him. You hand him the water with the tylenol, “This should help with the pain.” you said. He drank the tylenol with the water, after he was done he handed it back to you saying thank you. You set the glass in the sink, soon grabbing your keys, “ ready to go?” you asked him while holding your hand out. Bear looked at your hand, grabbing it while you both walked out the door. After you locked your door, the both of you got in your car and made your way to the hospital.

You both arrived at the hospital seeing Elora, Willie jack and cheese, as you both said what's up to them. You helped bear check himself into the hospital, “ill be right back, i forgot my mom asked me to get her some snacks for lunch, do you want anything?” you asked Bear but he shook his head no. As you were in the store getting snacks you noticed a black car that looked really familiar, so you hurried to the register to pay then left. When you got back to the hospital, you saw Bear outside with Elora and Willie jack, “What did the Doctor say?” you asked, “Well he basically asked if he can get with mine or your mom but other than that its not broken.” Bear replied. “That good it's not broken” you said, hugging him. Bear hugged you back but soon let go so you can take the snacks inside. You asked Bev to give the stuff to your mom, handing her the bag.

You went back outside and made your way to the group hearing Bear, “The fuck is this?”, “Fucking nerve, man, leaning on your car. Trying to act solid” Willie Jack said to Elora. You couldn't help but feel the anger you had earlier when Bear first came to your house with his busted nose. You couldn't help but think ‘im going to beat this bitch up’.” Where the fuck is Cheese? Let’s do this then, ”Bear said. “Yo, what's up, motherfuckers?! Oh, you guys were so fucking sick when you jumped me by my fucking self.” Bear said, walking up to Jackie and her crew. You and Willie jack both started taking off your guys' earring walking behind Bear. You notice your mom and bear mom Rita came outside to break everything up. After they did Officer Big came out to stop everything but as everyone was walking away Jackie said “Go on, mama’s boy take your little girlfriend with you.”.

That made you snap, “Jackie” you said making her turn around, you ran towards her punching her in her face knocking her down. “That's what happens when you jump my boyfriend. Estupida maldita perra. Te golpeare el culo, pruebame otra vez perra.” you told her that as your mom pulled you back before Jackie could do anything. "Holy shit." Bear thought, he couldnt help but smile at himself. he never seen him girlfriend react like this before but boy did he think she was so sexy punching Jackie. After everything you went home to rest since it was already getting late. After getting ready to go to sleep you hear someone tapping on your window, you already knew who it was. Opening the window for Bear to come in, but when he stepped into your room he kissed you like he was starving.

Bear soon pulled away, “you were so hot when you punched that bitch in the face.” he said looking at you. “Is that so? Well hopefully now she knows to keep her distance.” You said laughing. You walked to your dresser pulling some of Bear's clothes out, throwing them at him. This was just another normal night, where Bear comes over to hang out sometimes like this night, he spends the night. You turn off the light to your room, making your way to the bed. As you both laid down, Bear pulled you to lay in his chest. He knew you loved to hear his heartbeat, it was like a lullaby to you. “Thank you.” Bear said. “For what mi amor?” you ask. “Sticking by my side today.” Bear responded, sitting up a little to look at you, moving a little piece of hair out your face, you both looked at each other moving closer until Bear closed the gap between you. Bear pulled away, “I love you so fucking much.” he said. “I love you too Mi Oso.” you said to him as you laid back on his chest, you both soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

Oh dios mio= Oh my goodness

puta=bitch

Mi oso= my bear

Estupida maldita perra.Te golpeare el culo, pruebame otra vez perra = Stupid fucking bitch.i'll kick you ass. Try me again bitch.

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

rafe can’t handle it when you cry. he’s a problem solver at heart, and if something is bothering you, in his eyes it’s his responsibility to fix it. he was on a business call when you burst through the front doors of tannyhill, cheeks already stained with tears as your kitten heels click through the house. “rafe?” you call, sniffling and desperate to find him.

he hears you, attention shifting from his meeting to you. rafe is used to your dramatics, but something about your tone sets off alarm bells in his head. he gets up from his desk, cutting off the investor on the other line. “hey — hey man, i hate to do this to you, but could you just give me one second? somethin’ just came up.” he puts the call on hold and shoves his phone in his pocket before they can protest, and just in time for you to walk through his office doors. you’re a mess, shivering with mascara running wildly down your flushed cheeks. rafe’s forehead creases in concern, rushing around his desk to meet you where you’re standing so you can throw yourself into his arms.

“woah — woah, baby. breathe for me, alright?” rafe’s voice is soft but demanding, and he pulls away when you don’t respond, placing his warm hands on your upper arms to steady you. “hey — tell me what’s goin’ on.”

you suck in a few shaky breaths, whining and pawing at your eyes. you’re already so upset, and trying to condense your frustration into any sort of coherent answer has you even more overwhelmed. you just shake your head, more tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t know! everything is going wrong.”

“okay, listen to me. you have to breathe.” he leans down to your level, commanding more of your attention as he brings one hand to wipe your tears. rafe knows you’re a sensitive girl, sweet and delicate — it’s one of the things he likes the most about you. as much as he hates seeing you upset, he does love being your knight in shining armor. “what do you mean going wrong? what’s going wrong, princess?”

you finally take a deep breath, wet eyelashes fluttering. it really is everything. you offered to plan a surprise birthday party for one of your friends at the country club, but now that you also have to start organizing your plans for midsummers, you don’t know when you’re going to organize it — and soon enough, tourist season is going to make work at the golf club impossible. the icing on top is that rafe has been busy all day, barely even texting you between meetings, and you really missed him.

all of it comes out in a jumbled string of sobs until you finish with a deep sigh, lip still wobbling as your watery puppy-dog eyes bore into his. “alright.” rafe starts, letting go of you now that you’ve settled a little. “tell you what, i’ll help you out with the shit for midsummers. we can head out to the mainland tomorrow and get you a nice dress, yeah?” he pauses to make sure you’re following, and you nod with a sniffle — already feeling a little better with a promised shopping trip. “and, baby — i know you can handle a little party planning. n’if you need me to, i got no problem pulling a few strings to get you a nice reservation, okay, but for now — you’ve gotta relax. go take a nice bath and wait for me, alright? i have to take this.” rafe pulls his phone from his pocket again, the screen lighting up with the call still on hold. he brings his free hand up to wipe your remaining tears, followed by a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. “you’re alright, princess — i’ll be right there.”

the whole ordeal has your head spinning, one second you’re flying off the handle with anxiety and now you feel light as a feather. but that’s why you came to tannyhill in the first place, knowing rafe would know just what to do to fix your terrible mood.

˚❀˚

[emmyrosee]

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

This is the first time in four weeks you’ve answered his phone call. He never thought he’d be the one to break no contact first.

Sukuna tried, god he’s tried so hard to keep no contact, but there’s something about your saccharine voice that lures him back like a siren. He can’t get enough of it, and the lack of it in his life drove him crazy.

What you don’t know, is how often he clicks on your contact, how many times a day he dials your number, how much his fingers long to text you.

Even if after four weeks, he’s gone without it.

It’s hitting the call button that he hasn’t done. Until tonight, of course.

His mind scrambles to find an excuse for calling you, jaw opening and closing like a fish, and eyes darting around, even if you don’t see it. His gaze falls onto his sleeping dog, and he sinks his teeth into his lip.

“I just wanted to let you know, I finally got Titan to do that trick. You know-“

“Wow. Thanks for letting me know,” you say sarcastically. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah,” he says, gnawing at the tip of his thumb. “Yeah. Sorry to bug you. I just… thought you’d like to know.”

But neither of you make a move to hang up. He was positive you would immediately, sick of his voice and his attitude, but you don’t. Maybe you needed this as much as he does.

“No,” he finally croaks. “No okay? I’m not done. I fucking miss you.”

“Sukuna, stop-“

“No, you stop,” he snaps, voice tight with emotion. “Because if this is the last time we talk, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen good.”

You go silent. He hears you breathing, and you don’t make any noise to indicate you’re going to hang up. He lets you sit there, pondering, he wants to leave the ball in your court, even if ending the call is his worst nightmare right now.

“Speak.”

He shudders at the coldness in your voice, he rolls his shoulders and slumps back.

“You… are all that I think about,” he says firmly. “You and I, we are golden. I can’t imagine my life with someone else, I fucking hate to, there’s no one for me but you, and the fucking fact that I have to wake up to a cold bed because of something I did, is something I hate.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, I miss your voice and your laugh and your eyes. I miss your cold hands sneaking under my shirt, and I miss the way you fit against me when we cuddled. I miss you so fucking much, I hate this, I hate it so fucking much, and if I could fix it I would, I want to, please let me fix it-“

“You can’t.”

You shut him up.

“There is no fixing it, sukuna. You broke that trust, shattered it. You think I don’t miss you? You’re crazy.”

He calls your bluff, “you’re full of it. You want to get back together so bad it makes you sick. I know it does, I know you.”

“And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?” You scoff.

“Because you picked up the phone.”

You’re silent at that. He sinks his teeth into his lip, “you’d never answer the phone on someone you want out of your life. You’ve ignored people for less, you don’t fool me for one second.”

You’re still silent. He hears you breathing, as if waiting for him to keep going, read you like a book and prove you wrong.

He rests his head on the wall and shakily calls out your name, letting the vowels feel foreign on his tongue from lack of use. Pet names became so popular, his mouth almost forgot how to say your name. “I can fix this, if you’ll let me. I fucked up. But I know I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix shit,” you scoff. “You would’ve never let it get so bad in the first place if you cared.”

“I couldn’t fix what had already been destroyed,” he snaps. “But we know where we went wrong. We knew what went right. We can do this, do not send me away.”

There’s hesitation on your end. He feels it, he feels your reserve crumbling as he speaks.

“Please… don’t send me away,” he whispers.

You sigh. He sucks in a breath in preparation.

“I miss Titan,” you confess. “If we’re going to talk, we’re doing it at your place, so I can see your dog.”

He smirks.

“And I make no promises,” you hiss. “You don’t get the satisfaction of thinking we’re automatically getting back together because I don’t want to do this over the phone. We’re not. Not yet. Not now. But this isn’t a conversation to not do face to face.”

He closes his eyes and lets his body relax.

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t call it a date.”

[embbarnes]

Filthy Fingers.

summary: You check on Bucky after the mission in Madripoor.

warnings: Angst | TFATWS!Bucky | PTSD episode | Sexual trauma | Mentions of SA & SH | Slight SH | Vague descriptions of medical procedures | Swearing

a/n: Back on my bullshit with angsty fics. I wish the series had done something more than brushing this scene off as nothing. I have similar trauma with his experiences, so I sort of put my heart into this. I hope you enjoy, he needs a hug. Unedited. ;; wc: 4.4k

It horrified you, even if you knew about it prior.

After the mission, you searched for Bucky upon returning to the safehouse that Zemo had insisted on using. Bucky had already retreated to the bedroom you both shared, locking himself inside. You knew something was wrong, you knew him better than anyone honestly. He had barely muttered a few words about feeling exhausted before withdrawing from the group. The locked door and his sudden disappearance had you concerned about his well-being, especially considering the shitty mission you had done.

Zemo pushed Bucky to act as the Winter Soldier again, the man took great pride in being his handler and controlling him like a puppet, just as HYDRA had done. He relished in ordering him to attack and heel like a dog, and his cruel comments about using his body, about selling him in exchange for information, made you furious. Sam didn’t quite get the depth of the situation, though he had a good idea, he just didn’t know the extent. He didn’t want to ask.

Bucky’s behavior back at the house seemed unusual, even for someone typically reserved like himself, and you couldn't decide what to do, debating whether to check on him or give him the space he seemed to desperately need.

You also had to fight the urge to break Zemo's jaw.

As deep night fell over the city, a hush descended upon the streets. Sam and Zemo, too, decided to call it a night, bidding their farewells before retiring to their respective rooms. You found yourself alone in the kitchen, the sudden quietness of the house sounded so loud in your ears. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you made the decision to head towards the bedroom. Your footsteps echoed softly in the hallway as you approached the door.

Your knuckles gently rapped against the wooden surface as you announced your presence. The sound seemed to hang in the air for a moment before you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open. You stepped into the dimly lit room, your eyes immediately fell on Bucky. You weren’t surprised that he wasn't asleep; sleep often eluded him, and considering the memories that undoubtedly came back to him after the mission, you didn’t blame him.

He sat on the floor beside the bed, his back pressed against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. His gaze was fixed intently on the wooden floorboards, tracing the intricate patterns etched into their surface. The silence in the room was heavy and Bucky remained motionless, not even lifting his eyes to acknowledge your entrance.

You closed the door with a gentle click and cautiously made your way towards him, your footsteps barely audible on the floor. As you approached, you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. "Hey..." You began, your voice barely above a whisper, carefully considering each word as you prepared to navigate this situation.

You took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders as you shifted your position, crossing your legs where you had been kneeling. Your eyes never left Bucky's face, searching for any sign of acknowledgment. He remained motionless, his lack of response hanging heavy in the air between you. But his stillness was preferable to a negative reaction. At least he wasn't pushing you away or lashing out in his distress.

"I know this is stupid, and it's probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but..." You paused, weighing your words carefully before continuing, "Do you want to talk about what's going on? About what happened?" The question left your lips in a gentle, non-pressuring tone, leaving the decision entirely up to him. You sat there patiently, ready to listen if he chose to open up, or to simply provide a comforting presence if he preferred silence.

Bucky remained silent initially, his gaze fixed intently on the floor. He drew in a shaky, uneven breath, his eyes noticeably bloodshot and surrounded by dark, heavy circles. It was obvious that he had been struggling with sleep, but you knew that even a small amount of rest would be beneficial compared to none at all, especially dealing with the Flag Smashers and all the bullshit you were both thrown into again.

"Why don't you try to lie down and get some rest? I'll stay right here with you," you suggested gently, your voice filled with concern as you waited patiently for any sort of reaction from him. After a moment of hesitation, you added, "I know you might not feel like sleeping right now, but we have so much shit we have to do tomorrow.” You mumbled, “A few hours, at least.”

Hoping to appeal to his practical nature, you attempted to persuade him to sleep by emphasizing the logical reasons for doing so. However, your efforts seemed to fall on deaf ears as Bucky remained unresponsive. You sighed, your arm stretched up to reach for the blanket that lay haphazardly across the bed, intending to cover him and provide some comfort if he wasn’t going to sleep. Just as your fingers brushed against the soft fabric, Bucky's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I felt it," he murmured, his words so faint that you had to strain to hear them, the pain and vulnerability in his tone made your heart stutter.

You turned to look at him, your hand still grasping the edge of the blanket, and you settled back down fully on the seat. Your eyes met his, searching for understanding as you softly inquired, "Felt what?"

"Hands," he muttered, his gaze flickered momentarily before meeting yours again. "I felt... hands. On me. They weren't his," Bucky spoke slowly but with a certainty that sent a chill down your spine. He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Not Zemo's hands, but I would have preferred if he didn't touch me at all during the damn interrogation." His words trailed off, hanging heavy in the air between you.

You watched as his brow furrowed deeply, his eyes growing distant as he seemed to retreat into the labyrinth of his thoughts. A maze he still couldn’t get through, he’d always be lost, stumbling upon memories randomly and losing others he had a grip on. The silence stretched on, filled with unspoken memories and the weight of past trauma.

You nodded, remaining silent for a moment as you processed the situation. The anger bubbled within you, fueled by Bucky's own emotions. Zemo's arrogant behavior had struck a nerve, his deliberate attempts to provoke Bucky were infuriating. The man was more than just an asshole in your eyes and words; he was a calculated manipulator, intent on unraveling all the progress Bucky had made.

His creepy obsession had drawn tension between the group. Zemo had persistently tried to breach Bucky's defenses, attempting to draw out the Winter Soldier persona that lay dormant within him. His tactics were cruel and precise, aimed at undoing years of healing and dragging Bucky back into the darkness of his past.

What made it so much worse was Zemo's obvious familiarity with the red book - that cursed tome that held so many of Bucky's painful secrets. You were certain Zemo had pored over every page, absorbing all the horrific details it contained. The book was a comprehensive record of Bucky's torment: control words that could strip away his free will in an instant, precise actions that would render him a puppet, and graphic descriptions of the punishments HYDRA inflicted whenever Bucky showed the slightest hint of disobedience or failure. The thought of Zemo possessing this knowledge, wielding it like a weapon against Bucky, made your blood boil.

"Bucky..." you began, your voice soft and laden with emotion. You paused, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your empathy. "I'm so... sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult this is for you. It's just…not fair…that you have to endure all of this. You never asked to be pushed into this shit again." There was clear frustration in your voice with a mix of anger at the circumstances and deep concern for Bucky's well-being.

Your mind drifted to the apartment you shared with Bucky, while he wasn't always at his best there either, it was a vast improvement compared to situations like this. The space was familiar. He was surrounded by sights and sounds he knew, Bucky found a measure of peace inside the walls, mostly because you were there with him. He still struggled with his demons, but within the safety of your home, he could face them without the added pressure of external threats or responsibilities that weren't rightfully his to bear.

But it seemed that no matter what, the outside world was determined to drag him back into conflict.

In your apartment, there were no manipulative villains, no reminders of his painful past, no hidden ulterior motives to hurt him, just the warmth of your presence and the promise of a better future than past. He had you, and you were always there with him, helping him navigate through the storm that always threatened to pull him down again.

"M'used to it," he mumbled weakly, his voice devoid of emotion, carrying the weight of resignation and defeat. The words fell from his lips like heavy stones of the burdens he had borne. "I've had worse than simply being traded away for sexual favors."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't just be used to it," you countered, "You didn't deserve anything they put you through. I don't care what justifications they gave or what they forced you to do. You, Bucky Barnes, are a good person. You, at your core, are pure and untainted. You are the one in control now. Not the soldier they created, not HYDRA with their manipulation, not anyone else. It's all you."

Your eyes locked onto his, your gaze gentle yet unyielding, radiating unwavering belief in him as you tried so desperately to let him see how much faith you had in him. "You've already won over their programming, Bucky. You've reclaimed yourself."

"Then why won't his memories go away?" Bucky croaked out, his voice cracking under the weight of suppressed emotion. "I want nothing more than to...to forget. It's...it's so hard, doll," his voice wavered, the floodgates of emotion threatening to burst open despite him trying his damnedest to keep it all in. "Why can't I forget the bad, and why can't I remember the good?"

Bucky sounded completely worn down, his voice cracking with heavy emotion as he spoke. He couldn't bring himself to raise his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and self-loathing washing over him. The weight of his perceived inadequacy pressed down on him, making him feel incredibly pathetic and foolish.

Your support through numerous similar episodes didn’t shake off the intense feelings of guilt and self-deprecation that consumed him during these moments. It was as if he viewed himself as nothing more than a heavy burden, a complex problem that you were obligated to solve time and time again. Even a glued vase is still cracked and much weaker than an untouched one.

No amount of reassurance or comfort seemed capable of mending his fractured psyche. He’s still broken, no matter what you do to help.

In his mind, he was irreparable, his former self having been long gone. Hell, he's not even whole. The prosthetic arm, the threatening object that he despised with every fiber of his being. Vivid, haunting memories flooded his consciousness as he recalled the moment HYDRA had finally attached the mechanical limb.

The sensation was overwhelmingly unpleasant - the arm felt unnaturally cold against his skin, its heavy weight throwing off his balance and coordination. In his disoriented state, he could feel the lifeless metal appendage hanging limply at his side, dragging him down both physically and mentally. The phantom sensations of drills and saws assaulted his senses, causing him to relive the trauma of the procedure.

Wide awake.

He was desperate to rid himself of the foreign object, so he clawed frantically at the point where metal met flesh, feeling the cold, unyielding surface beneath his fingertips. The memory of being forcibly restrained to prevent him from damaging the prosthetic flashed through his mind, the clinical indifference of his captors etched permanently behind his eyelids. It was clear to him that their sole concern lay with preserving the integrity of the mechanical marvel they had created, with no regard for the man to whom it was attached.

He was nothing more than a vessel for their prized creation - the arm was their priority, not the broken soldier who bore it.

Then their hands came.

Never-ending hands on his body, everywhere.

They always came when he couldn't fight back.

Teasing, pinching, groping, twisting, penetrating.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Make it -

Bucky's loud thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you reached out and gently grasped his flesh hand, your voice filled with concern as you spoke, "Bucky, hey, hey, stop... It's alright, you're safe now, it’s just you and me." The urgency in your tone was notable, yet you managed to keep it soft and reassuring.

His brow furrowed deeply, a mix of confusion and realization crossing his features as he slowly turned his gaze from you to his hand, which you now held firmly in your own, having pulled it away from his body. A searing hot sensation radiated from his scar, and with a sinking feeling, he realized what he had been doing.

He had been scratching at the old wound, hard. Clawing, digging, as if trying to remove something from his skin. His arm, the metal - titanium, vibranium - did it matter?

"It's okay, you're fine," you whispered gently, your voice acting like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Your hands worked carefully but firmly to keep his own from returning to where he had been clawing. Your thumb gently rubbed circles on his inner wrist in an attempt to keep his mind grounded. You were always scared during these moments, worried for his well-being as the rooted fear threatened to overwhelm you.

But you pushed it down, maintaining a calm and composed demeanor for his sake. Your voice remained steady as you continued to comfort him, "It's okay... you're doing so good, Buck Buck..." The silly name slipped out naturally, reminding him of where he was and who he was with. You always called him Buck Buck instead of just saying Buck once, you knew that endearment made him think of Steve. And he didn’t like doing that with Steve being gone.

"Breathe," you gently instructed him, guiding him to take slow, deep breaths as the memories and vicious flashbacks gradually began to subside. "You're doing great, just like that. Keep focusing on your breaths." You continued to offer words of encouragement and carefully guide him through the breathing exercises, your voice soft yet steady. His eyes, now rimmed with red, glistened with moisture, the strain of the moment evident in his features.

Delicate streams of tears traced paths down his cheeks, tiny rivers carrying his pain and guiding it out of him. The sight tugged at your heart, but you remained a pillar of support and strength for him to lean on.

"Make it stop," he rasped out to you, his voice thick with desperation and fear. "Make it stop," Bucky repeated, his body instinctively moving towards you as if seeking shelter from an invisible storm. "They're on me," he added, his words barely above a whisper, laced with a haunting mixture of panic and pleading.

You immediately wrapped your arms around him the second his body touched yours, enveloping him in a protective embrace. You would always wait for him to make the first move closer, respecting his space and not wanting to inadvertently exacerbate his episodes. Your touch was gentle yet firm, grounding him in the present moment.

"No one is touching you but me, baby," you assured him, your voice steady and filled with warmth. "And I'm not doing any of those awful things. I would never. You're safe here with me, Bucky. We're getting through this, you’re doing so good. Just focus on me and taking those breaths okay?"

Bucky remained pressed against you, his body tense and trembling as he desperately attempted to hide himself inside your smaller body. His hand darted up to his shoulder, fingers curled as if to claw at something unseen. Then his hand quickly moved to his neck, desperately grasping and pulling at an invisible entity.

The frantic movements sent a chill down your spine as you watched him struggle against phantoms of his past, it never ceased to horrify you to see him react to the glimpses he was shown again from HYDRA. You tried not to let your imagination run wild, but the implications were clear and it only made you feel even worse seeing him play it out.

You felt helpless.

All you could really do during these episodes was be there for him.

Holding him close, enveloping him in a gentle embrace that provided a sense of security and reassurance, something so simple yet so luxurious in his life. Your touch was carefully calibrated, always mindful of his boundaries and sensitivities, ensuring that every contact communicated safety and understanding. You learned what he liked, disliked, what made things better and worse. You would soothe him with those very tender caresses, running your fingers through his hair or tracing calming patterns on his back, grounding him in the present moment.

Bucky really liked when you rubbed his back.

You would speak words of encouragement, your phrases were carefully chosen so they’d break through all the rampant thoughts flooding his mind. You reminded him of his resilience and progress. You whispered affirmations of his worth, validate his feelings, and reassure him of your presence and support throughout the episode.

“It’s not real, Bucky. No one is here, no one is touching you. It’s just me. You are safe.”

The efforts you put into comforting him so tenderly often felt mediocre or not enough, you always felt like nothing was ever working or meant a thing. But for Bucky, they were his lifeline, you helped him more than you could possibly fathom. Having endured these episodes alone for so long, the contrast of facing them with your loving support made them significantly easier, more manageable.

You held him for a while, gently cradling his body against your own. Most of the time, he just needed this physical connection to be brought back to reality, to feel grounded and secure again. Your arms enveloped him in a protective embrace, creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort. Sometimes you’d wrap him in a blanket, but you didn’t think Bucky was going to let you move to grab one.

Slowly, deliberately, you moved your hands up and down his back just how he liked. Your fingertips tracing intricate, soothing patterns across the fabric of his shirt, random shapes and swirls, sometimes a letter or number that he’d weakly repeat into your chest. The repetitive motion seemed to have a calming effect on both of you, a silent reassurance that everything would be alright.

As you continued to hold him, your gaze wandered towards the window. Through the thin, gauzy curtains that hung there, you could make out the blurry silhouette of the city in the distance. The lights twinkled like earthbound stars, their glow softened and diffused by the cloudy barrier between you and the outside world. It created an almost dreamlike atmosphere in the room, emphasizing the intimate bubble you two had created. It reminded you of home.

Still whirling from the events that led to this moment, your mind gradually began to quiet. Bucky appeared to be much more relaxed, no longer breathing heavy and shaking as terribly during his attack.

"You okay?" You inquired softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The darkness of the room cast a deep, night blue hue, partially dulling the angry red blotches that you knew still marred Bucky's face from your sight. Bucky’s sweet, rosy nose glistened from his recent emotional turmoil.

He turned his face fully into your chest, burrowing against you as he sniffled. Amusement colored your voice as you gently teased, "Are you wiping your snot on me?" Your tone remained cautiously gentle, not wanting to upset the fragile calm that had settled over him.

Bucky's response came muffled against your chest, a small chuckle that vibrated through you. His voice was barely audible and tinged with a hint of sheepishness. "Maybe..." he admitted as he pulled back and finally looked you in the eye.

You rolled your eyes, casting a concerned glance back at him as you gently used your thumbs to caress his cheeks. The tender gesture was comforting for him. "Are you okay?" You repeated. You wanted—no, needed—to hear the truth directly from him, to gauge his emotional state beyond the façade he often presented.

Bucky instinctively leaned into your touch, finding solace in the warmth of your hands against his skin. His eyes fluttered closed slowly, almost involuntarily, as he drew in a deep, shaky breath. The contrast between your warm, caring touch and his own clammy cheeks made him shiver. He allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, to absorb the comfort you offered.

"Yeah... I'm..." Bucky started, his voice barely above a whisper. He paused, reconsidering his words. "I'm fine." Another pause. "I mean, no, I'm not but... you know. I'm good." The contradiction in his statement was painfully apparent. He cleared his throat, as if trying to dislodge the emotions threatening to spill out verbally, and slowly opened his eyes again.

They met yours, a swirl of conflicting emotions evident in their depths. It was a typical answer from him, a reflexive response born from decades of forced conditioning and denial of feeling. You had expected it, of course, knowing his tendency to downplay his struggles, but that didn't make it any less concerning.

"Well, it's late. Maybe we should try to get some sleep?" Your lips softly kissed his forehead, tenderly giving him some affection. As you pulled back, you looked into his eyes and reassured him, "If you say you're alright, then I believe you. I trust your judgment, and I want you to know that I'm always here for you, whenever you feel ready to talk about it. There's no pressure, no rush. And in the meantime, I'm more than happy to simply be here, to be your comfort, your support... your pillow, if that's what you need."

"You're too good to me, doll... you really shouldn't have to deal with all this," he said softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. He rubbed his nose a little with the back of his hand, a nervous habit he'd developed over the years. "You've got more than enough on your plate already. Your own struggles, your own dreams to chase. You don't need my baggage weighing you down too."

"Hey, now. I won't hear any of that," you insisted, your brows furrowing slightly in concern. Your voice was firm but warm, you understood why he felt the way he did, but you didn’t like it. "I love you, sweetheart. That means I love every part of you - the good, the bad, and everything in between. Taking care of you, making sure you're okay... it's not some burden I'm shouldering. It's not something I'm just 'dealing with' because I have to."

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. "I'm here, by your side, because that's exactly where I want to be. Because you deserve love, support, and care. And because giving you those things brings me joy. It's as simple as that."

You squeezed his hand softly, your eyes meeting his with a look of pure, unconditional love. "So please, don't ever think you're too much or that you're burdening me. You're not. You're the person I choose, every single day. And I want to be here for you, through thick and thin."

"I love you too, doll... I don't know what I'd do without you," Bucky replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He was still avoiding your gaze, but you didn't mind. Vulnerability was difficult for him and you appreciated his honesty even in his discomfort.

"Let's get comfortable, we need to rest for whatever shit is going on tomorrow," you said softly, your voice filled with care and concern, yet a small bite for this ridiculousness of the mission. You were still annoyed you and Bucky had been dragged into this mess.

You began to shuffle the comforter and blankets on the floor, creating a cozy nest beside the bed. Bucky's brow furrowed as he watched you meticulously prep the area, his eyes following your every move with curiosity and confusion.

"You're not planning on sleeping on the floor with me, are you?" he questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief as he observed you fluffing the pillows to ensure maximum comfort. The idea seemed to both perplex and touch him deeply. You had before, of course, at home. But he always insisted you go back to bed after his nightmares died down and he could fall asleep on his own. He didn't like the idea of you sleeping on the hardwood floors with him at night, especially when you could have the bed all to yourself.

"Of course I am," you replied without hesitation, your voice firm but gentle. "You think I'm gonna just let you sleep by yourself after this? Nope, that's not happening. I'm gonna be right by your side, supporting you through this. That's a promise, Bucky, and I intend to keep it." Your words were filled with determination and unwavering loyalty, leaving no room for doubt about your commitment to him.

He let out a deep, resigned sigh, fully aware that you wouldn't budge from your decision, despite the presence of a perfectly comfortable bed in the room. You'd pick sleeping on the floor with him over the warmth and softness of the bed any day. Bucky inched closer and settled into the makeshift sleeping area you had prepared.

Once situated, he gently pulled you towards him, enveloping you in a tender embrace. No words were exchanged, but he carefully repositioned himself, shuffling down slightly to rest his head against your chest, seeking comfort in your presence.

He wanted to be held tonight, and that was perfectly fine with you.

Thank you for reading. -em🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

[drvscarlett]

The Tortured Drivers' Department

— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece

Fortnight

— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)

The Tortured Poets Department 

— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 

— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)

Down Bad

— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)

So Long, London

— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)

But Daddy I Love Him

— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)

Fresh Out the Slammer

— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 

—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)

Guilty as Sin?

—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)

loml

— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 

— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)

The Alchemy

—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)

Clara Bow

— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)

The Black Dog

— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader

imgonnagetyouback

— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)

The Albatross

— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)

How Did It End?

— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)

So High School

—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)

I Hate It Here

—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)

thanK you aIMee

— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)

I Look in People’s Windows

—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)

The Prophecy

—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)

Cassandra

—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)

Peter

— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)

The Bolter

— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)

Robin

— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)

The Manuscript

—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2

⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn

...

Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.

That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.

A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?

Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.

Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.

You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.

"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"

"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.

He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.

But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.

He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.

His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?

Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.

“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”

“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.

"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.

You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”

He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?

His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.

“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."

“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"

You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"

"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."

"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.

"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."

You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."

"Never!"

He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."

You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.

"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"

"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"

His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.

"Sergeant, please!"

"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."

He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.

Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.

"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"

"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.

"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.

You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.

"Sergeant?"

"Mm?"

"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.

"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.

That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.

You sit up. "Kyle?"

His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"

"Were you serious?"

"I was."

"Even about coming over again?"

"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.

You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"

"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."

"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."

He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.

"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"

Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.

"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.

As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.

This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.

He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[o-sachi]

Nose Boops - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ something's suspicious about sakura... time to find out why ᯓ character; sakura haruka (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; fluff, tsundere sakura, afab reader, no y/n

[����]: for day 4 - accidental pet acquisition prompt! @windbreakerweek

Sakura's been acting strange.

Like reaaaaaally strange.

He was supposed to walk with you back home today, but somehow he suddenly has to patrol at that exact time. You knew his patrol schedule like the back of your own hand and you were certain that he didn't have to patrol. Besides, you knew Hiragi wasn't the type of guy to stray from fixed routines.

Anyway, you didn't like doubting him, so you asked Nirei. One text message and you confirmed that... Sakura was lying to you.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Sakura was the most honest person that you knew and even if he did lie—he was way too obvious. But then again, it's always the person that you least expect to do you wrong.

Instead of walking straight back home later that day, you decided to investigate a bit. You checked out the usual streets that their team would roam around in. But nothing. You saw a couple of Furin boys, but none of them were familiar to you.

You even checked the cafe and asked Kotoha if he had been there. But still no luck. It was then you figured that maybe he was already at home. If he wasn't there either... well, that's definitely a cause for concern.

Part of you was incredibly nervous with what was waiting for you at his place, but all that worry dissipated in an instant at the sight that greeted you: Sakura walking the little puppy that you two found on the side of the street a week ago.

He had a small smile on his face, one that he reserved only for you (sometimes for his friends too, but he won't admit it). Sakura even bought the little thing a new collar and leash. You weren't exaggerating when you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

Soon enough, he noticed your presence. His smile shifted into a flustered frown. "W-what are you doing here?" he asks, pointing at you.

You walk over to them, a toothy grin on your face. "Oh, I dunno... maybe I just wanted to see what my boyfriend was so busy with. But it's definitely not because of patrolling."

"Shaddap..."

He turns to look away, hoping to hide the rosiness of his cheeks. But as he looks away, the puppy takes notice of you and rubs her tiny head against your leg.

Crouching down, you pat her softly. "Aww, hey there. Is he taking good care of you hm?"

The dog can't really speak, but with the way it's wagging its tail—tells you that she loves her new owner.

"He can be a bit scary sometimes, but he's the biggest sweetheart. Don't you think so?"

Sakura clicks his tongue. "Stop talking about me with Momo."

"Momo?"

His cheeks turn into a deeper shade of scarlet. He was biting down on his lower lip so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if it just started bleeding.

"T-the dog... Momo," he replies. As much as he tried to keep his cool, he was certainly failing at it. Even though you two have been going out for a few months now, it still wasn't that difficult to render him into a blushing mess.

"You named her?"

"How would I talk to her if I didn't?"

Point. You turned to look back at the dog, smiling warmly at her. "Your name's Momo huh? That's cute," you say before booping her nose.

You stand back up and face Sakura who was struggling to look you in the eye. He opens his mouth to speak only to stop. But he tries again.

"Don't even start and tease m—"

Boop. You just booped his nose—the same way you did with Momo.

It left his jaw hanging, unsure if you really just did what you did. With his brows furrowed, he picks up the dog in his arms. You wanted to be serious just like him, but you found it hard to maintain your composure at such an unusual (but lovely) sight.

"Keep teasing me and I won't let you go near her. No petting... defintiely no booping."

He says all that with a straight face. And off he goes—back inside his humble abode with his little friend in his clutches.

For a guy that refused to take in that dog a week ago... he sure has taken quite a liking for her.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Paul lahote x female reader

Chicken Bone

Kim has been helping Emily with the kitchen while you are outside gathering wood with Sam.

"UGH, Sam, I'm tired. Don't you think this is enough for a year?" You giggle and whipe sweat off of your forehead. He laughs at you, making you glare at him. "You can stop. I don't need Paul getting upset with me for overworking you." He puts his hands on his hips, smiling at you. You hum in response and take off the work gloves Sam gave you.

You walk inside to see Emily and Kim fixing up the plates for the boys. There is enough food to feed all of the reservation but you're used to being around the pack at this point.

"WOOO HOOO!" You hear hooting and hollering from multiple men. You knew it was your imprinter and his family. You smile, and Kim rushes next to you. "Y/n, I have been thinking about this the whole time! Me and Emily have a bet. If you were to take a chicken bone away from Paul, I say he chases you. Emily says he just lets you have it." She laughs.

You burst into laughter and wrap your arm into hers. "Well then, Emily! What do you say? Kim do this to Jared too?" You look at the beauty of a woman who is pouring tea into glasses. She smirks at you two. "I think Jared would play a pity party!" Emily giggles. "I say, Jared simply wouldn't care and just pick up another chicken." You bet with Emily. "Oh goodness. This will be fun." She sighs with a grin as the boys all pile in.

Paul steps in front of you with a wide and bright smile. "I've missed you, my princess." He kisses your lips. The butterflies kick in asyou kiss him back. He pulls away and pecks your cheek and then leaves a lingering and sweet kiss on your forehead. He steps away to sit at the table next to Embry. Jared and Quil have their own conversation. Jacob, Leah, and Seth are currently at Billy's house, cleaning up for him.

After everyone finishes up, the boys do their classic thing. The dog comes out and they have to chew on a bone. You find this so funny and cute! Kim makes eye contact with you. She winks at you, mouthing, 'you first.' As Paul is chewing on the bone and laughing at Embry, you quickly grab it out of his hand and step away from him.

"Hey!" He calls out with confusion on his face. You start giggling and begin chewing on it, too. He watches you with his eyebrows furrowed. "That.. was the best bone in the whole plate." He mumbles in sadness. He sighs and sits down to pout.

Kim grabs Jared's and stands next to you. "Hey!" He gets up and she runs as he chases after her outside.

Emily is cackling while tears form in her eyes. All the men look confused. Paul is just brooding.

"We had a bet. Nobody was right." She chokes out.

So, Kim guessed Paul would chase you, but in fact, Jared chased her. And you guessed that Jared would let her have it, but he chased her! Unexpectedly, the pouts came from the hard ass, Paul Lahote.

Feeling bad, you stand behind Paul and hand him the bone. He grabs your wrist with a small amount of a grip. Not enough to hurt you but to be sure you don't move. "Y/n y/m/n, You pull this shit again, you won't be able to sit down." He growls before kissing your lips and then going back to the bone. You shiver and imagine what he is talking about.

Later that night, you get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. You step out of the bathroom and into your bedroom that you share with Paul. He's lying on his back with his eyes closed. You drop the towel and began digging through your drawer.

Paul's pair of warm arms pulls you into his hard body. A surprised yelp escapes your lips. "Ya know," he begins and starts leaving sloppy and wet kisses over your shoulder and neck. "Watching you chew that bone that was just in my mouth was very hot." He groans and grips harder onto your waist.

[pforestsims]

I'm a fan of traits & trait mods and I really liked Atomtanned's mod /based on Dill's Turn-Ons & Turn-Offs/. This is quite an extensive edit - I just wanted to adjust it a little for my game and once I started I couldn't stop xD

Atomtanned's Trait-Based Chemistry EDIT

& (optional mod) ONLY TO Chemistry

⚡ Download: SFS ⚡BOX

11.11.2024 third UPDATE of Chemistry Mod. Fixed: Loner not triggering Introvert TO, Alien genetics trigger Alien TO correctly, Facial hair TO triggers correctly, Hats do not trigger Intellect TO, Cologne doesn't trigger Occult TO. Thanks for the fixes go to @episims . Correct file has "Update3" in the name

*Archive contains PDF file with detailed list of changes (added / removed stuff) and a few notes.

🟢 Trait-based Chemistry mod edit is available in 7 Languages: English, German, Finnish, Polish, Swedish, Russian, French

❕ New stuff: added Facial Hair TO (replaces Daydreamer), Business Shark TO (was: Serious), Expressive TO (was: Unique). Increased hobby and interest requirements from 5 to 8 pts, Formal wear added to Stylish TO - and more...

I also included an optional mod that switches off Zodiac / Aspiration chemistry and balances out the chemistry bolts gain - so it makes chemistry betwen Sims much less complicated. Obviously it will only be useful for those who like to control every aspect of their Sims romantic lives. Details under the cut.

You'll need Traits /and stuff required for these to work/.

Credits: @atomtanned , @lilbabydilljr , Epi for their TO replacements, @lazyduchess for Lua script

@peanuttysims for No Zodiac & Aspiration attraction (MTS2 link)

I used TS4 icons, icon mashups/ edits, and my own.

Thanks: @tvickiesims , @vegan-kaktus , @lilakartoffelbrei . Special thanks to @episims for all the support 💎🤗

*This is for The Sims 2

More under the cut:

Trait-based Chemistry mod

It will replace original TS2 turn-ons and turn-offs with entirely new ones (only hair colors and fitness/fatness are unchanged!).

It conflicts with NickM406's No More Loading the * Family mod , and Tunaisafish’s Attraction Fix, make sure you don't have tunaisafish_fix_attractiontraits package in your Downloads.

🟢 It's compatible with mods that change /or switch off Zodiac chemistry, Aspiration chemistry, or both.

⚡TURN-ONS / TURN-OFFS:

Note: I've added and removed some stuff, for example Plantsims and Bigfoot from 'Occult' TO, and Zombies from 'Undead' TO!

(This is an edit of the list posted by Atomtanned: )

Adventurous: 3 vacations, Adventurous, Daredevil, Sailor, Brave

Alien: Trait, skin, eyes

Animal Lover: 2 pet friends, Animal Lover, Cat Person, Dog Person, Equestrian

Artistic: Artistic, Avant Garde, Photographer's Eye, Savvy Sculptor, Flower Arranging/Pottery/Sewing silver badge, Arts & Crafts hobby, Creative skill

Athletic: Athletic, Equestrian, Loves to Swim, Sports/Fitness hobby, Body skill

Business shark: Born-salesperson, Ambitious, Mean Spirited, Snob, Workaholic

Charismatic (charisma): Charismatic, Irresistible, Schmoozer, Star Quality, Charisma skill

Cultured (bookish): Avant Garde, Bookworm, Film & Literature Hobby

Expressive: Excitable, Childish, Party Animal, Dramatic, Over-Emotional, Diva

Facial hair

Fitness / Fatness - original

Foodie: Natural Cook, Cuisine hobby, Cooking skill

Hair colors - original

Indoorsy: Bookworm, Computer Whiz, Couch Potato, Hates the Outdoors, Film & Literature Hobby, Games Hobby

Infamous (bad reputation): Bad Reputation*, Evil, Mean-Spirited

Intellect (high IQ): Genius, Logic Skill

Introvert (reserved): Brooding, Loner, Unflirty, Shy, No sense of humor, Grumpy, Socially Awkward, < 2 Outgoing personality points

Laid Back (slacker): Couch Potato, Mooch, Slob, < 2 Active personality points

Musical: Natural Born Performer, Star Quality, Virtuoso, Music & Dance hobby

Occult (mystical): Werewolf, Witch, Fairy, Mermaid, Supernatural Fan

Outdoorsy: Angler, Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors, Sailor, Gardening badge, Fishing badge, Nature hobby

Outgoing (social): Irresistible, Flirty, Natural Born Performer, Party Animal, Social Butterfly, > 8 Outgoing personality points

Plant Lover: Eco-Friendly, Gatherer, Green Thumb, Vegetarian, Flower/Gardening badge, Plantsim, Fairy

Rebellious: Daredevil, Inappropriate, Hot-headed, Rebellious.

Stylish (elegance): Snob, Diva, Irresistible, Cosmetology badge, Fashion interest, Formal wear

Technology: Servo, Bot Fan, Computer Whiz, Handy, Vehicle Enthusiast, Robotics silver Badge, Mechanical skill

Tidy: Neat, Cleaning skill, > 8 Neat personality points

Undead: Ghost*, Vampire

Well-Liked: Good reputation*, Friendly, Good, Proper, Nurturing.

*"Ghosts" = sims turned into playable ghosts, with Ghost trait (and Mermaids are sims with mermaid trait, but ofc you don't need these to be able to use this mod).

*Known issue: Servo (as such) doesn't trigger this TO. That has been fixed.

🔸 Hobby requirements in Dill's / Atomtanned's versions (as well as interest) were set to 5 points, which is kinda an average in my game. I don't want TOs to trigger too easily so I've increased these to 8 points, just like Skill point requirements.

Update: I've removed One True Hobby checks, so now only actual hobby enthusiasm points matter for triggering TOs.

I also increased good reputation requirement from 30 to 60.

Above is the comparison of original vs new TOs, in the exact order.

FYI I've fixed the little mistake I've found in the mod - in my version stylish TO works as it should.

If you have any questions about how the game calculates attraction, read this.

And here's free version (SFS) of my buyable ReNuYu potion default, will be useful if you'd like to correct TOs for all your Sims.

"ONLY TO Chemistry" mod

Conflicts with No Zodiac Chemistry by Belladovah , chemistry mods by Peanutty (it incorporates their "No zodiac and no Aspiration"mod) and any other that contain Attraction Constants BCON and Attraction Tuning BCON.

In unmodded TS2 game, interests and skills do not play part in attraction. Trait-based chemistry changes that only to some extent because Zodiac and Aspiration are more important. To make TOs the crucial attraction factor in my game, I disabled Zodiac / Aspiration Chemistry, and tweaked bolt requirements.

This mod makes chemistry between Sims straightforward and TO-based however various bonuses to attraction also apply (!), like Beauty Wish, Vacation bonuses, bonus for very good rep or penalty for extremely bad reputation (even if your Sim likes bad guys, they will be put off by Dirty Dirtbag status, and enticed by extremely good rep). Anyways, if you use this mod and your Sims have no other attraction bonuses, then:

if one Sim has a turn-on towards the other, and the other has none, it results in no bolts

if one Sim has two turn-ons towards the other, and the other has none, Sims have one bolt chemistry

if one Sim has a turn-on towards the other, and the other has a turn-off, it results in negative chemistry

if a couple has single turn-ons towards each other, it gives them one-bolt chemistry

couple has three turn-ons, that gives them two bolts

couple has three turn-ons, one turn-off, that gives them one bolt

couple has double turn-ons, they have three-bolt chemistry

Special bonuses granted by mods for certain Traits like the "irresistible" still matter of course.

[thatfanficstuff]

Unexpected - Twilight/TVD crossover

Pairing: Mikaelsons x Reader

a/n: In this AU the Originals are far older than 1000 years. The cold ones are the result of a failed attempt by Esther to fix her 'mistake'. The Mikaelsons are the ultimate vampire authority but generally leave the cold ones to govern themselves.

“You don’t understand. You’ll never understand,” your cousin Bella yelled before storming out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

You clenched your teeth in irritation and sighed. You were frustrated with your baby cousin to say the least. She was dramatic and childish and aggravating. Some allowances could be made due to her age, but most of her bad behavior you laid at your aunt’s feet.

Renee had always spoiled Bella. Likely part of it was because Renee was notoriously flighty and Bella had to do more than her fair share of caretaking which made her mother feel guilty. Whatever the reason, it hadn’t done the girl any favors.

Your uncle Charlie, who had always been your favorite member of the family, had begged you to visit after Bella’s asshole ex left her and she’d sunk into a severe depression. One that was way out of proportion, complete with screaming nightmares and catatonic behavior. Obviously the relationship was not good for her if that was her response to a breakup. Cry, eat some ice cream and get your shit together.

And now Bella was starting to exhibit that same obsessive behavior with one of the boys down at the reservation. Charlie didn’t share your concerns, just happy her attention was on anyone other than Edward. You bringing it to her attention caused the argument you’d just had. Fuck it. You were so ready to go home.

The house was clean and you’d nearly finished the laundry by the time a knock at the door caught your attention. You swung it open to find an unfamiliar brunette with a pixie cut on the doorstep. She was cute. Dead, but cute. What the hell was a cold one doing on Charlie’s doorstep?

You narrowed your gaze as you looked her over. “Can I help you?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yes, I—I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Charlie’s niece, who are you?”

“I’m Alice. I’m a friend of Bella’s.”

You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay, Alice, Bella’s not here at the moment.”

“Charlie?” She tried to peer past you into the house.

“He’s helping his best friend’s wife plan his funeral. Which is where Bella should be but she went cliff diving instead.” That was more information than the vampire in front of you needed but you were still pissed at your cousin.

The pixie’s eyes went wide as she took a step back. “Cliff diving? Like for fun?”

“So I’ve been told.” You were quickly growing bored of this conversation.

She shook her head. “But I thought…” She trailed off. “Can I come in and wait for her? It’s important.”

You sighed and stepped away from the door. “Why the hell not? She shouldn’t be too much longer.”

And in fact, the girl in question ran into the house not more than ten minutes later. You observed quietly as she reunited with what you now gathered was her ex-boyfriend’s sister. If you would have known that you would have kicked her ass off the property instead of inviting her in. Leave it to your idiot cousin to date a cold one while she was still human. They had notoriously poor self-control.

You kept an ear on the conversation while the two of them talked. Apparently the pixie was something of a seer and thought Bella was committing suicide. Several minutes passed before Jacob Black walked in the house without knocking. You scowled at him as he walked past you to look in the living room where the girls were talking.

Seriously? You knew he was a dog but did he need to have the manners of one? The phone rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Before you could answer, Jake grabbed it. “Yeah? No, he’s not here. He’s planning a funeral.” And he hung up the phone.

“Who was that? Was that Edward? Why didn’t you let me talk to him?” Bella yelled as she stomped into the room.

“He didn’t ask for you,” the wolf snarked.

That was it. You were completely done with your cousin and all of her friends. You’d stay until after Harry’s funeral strictly for Charlie’s benefit and then you were heading home. A gasp drew your attention to the pixie like vampire.

“What? What is it?” Bella suddenly sounded far more worried than she had a moment ago.

“It’s Edward. He thinks you’re dead. He’s going to the Volturi and asking them to kill him.”

You rolled your eyes. For fuck’s sake. He was as dramatic as your cousin. Maybe they deserved each other after all.

“We have to go. I have to save him,” Bella said as she moved toward the door.

You blocked her way. “Really, Bella? Charlie just lost his best friend and now you’re going to take off after a boy that doesn’t give a shit about you instead of being here for your father?”

Your cousin’s lip lifted in a sneer as she pushed against your chest. You held your ground and glared at her.

“You don’t know anything. He left to save me, to protect me. He thinks he’s not good enough for me.”

“He’s not.” Jacob smirked while Alice sent you a nasty look. You lifted a brow and ran your eyes over the boy who stupidly thought he’d won something with your words. “Neither are you, furball.”

“Look,” Bella stated, reclaiming your attention. “I’m going to Italy whether you like it or not. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.”

You sighed. “Italy? Do you even have a passport?”

She nodded once. “Mom insisted.”

Fucking Renee. “Then I’m going with you. Write your dad a note.”

Bella shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. You should stay here.”

Alice laid a hand on your cousin’s arm. “No, Bella. I think it’s a great idea.”

You eyed the cold one wondering what plot she was concocting. Your fingers flew over the screen of your phone sending multiple texts as you followed the girls to the car.

***

As it turned out, you’d arrived just in time to stop Edward from revealing himself in the middle of the town square. Because he thought he’d be justified in putting his entire race at risk to get what he wanted. Asshole.

You leaned against the wall, responding to another text as you watched the interaction between the Volturi guards and the Cullens. You honestly didn’t care much about their politicking as long as your cousin remained alive-ish. You didn’t want Charlie heartbroken over the loss of his only child.

When you glanced up again, Demetri’s gaze met yours. He gave a little smirk and lifted a brow in question. You’d met him once and the two of you had gotten along famously. The compulsion to forget you was lifted now that he was once again in your presence. You shrugged and sent him a little wave as you slid your phone into your pocket.

Edward watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Listen, she doesn’t know anything about this. She just came along with Bella. You should let them both go.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Demetri said as he looked you over. “What do you say, bellisima? Do you know anything?”

“I know about a great many things,” you answered.

“See? She knows things.”

“They come with us. Both of them,” Jane stated.

Edward grabbed your upper arm in a bruising grip and jerked you into his side. “Don’t be stupid,” he hissed.

“No. That’s your job and if you don’t release me immediately, I’m going to tear your arm off and beat you with it while you sparkle in the sun.”

His grip loosened in shock and you pulled away. “See? I do know things.”

Demetri laughed as he steered you to follow the others.

You grinned. “This one likes me, Eddie. Don’t be so grumpy.”

“You shouldn’t be happy they like you,” Bella snapped. “They’re evil.”

You blinked at the back of her head. “You’re an idiot.” Personal feelings aside, why the hell was she announcing her opinions about the Volturi?

When you arrived at the throne room, Demetri gestured for you to stand to the side near the back. You gave him a nod and watched the proceedings in silence, simply taking everything in unless you needed to intervene.

After reading the Cullens and attempting to read Bella, Aro Volturi turned his attention to you. He hadn’t missed your interaction with one of his elite guards and, other than their dislike, he’d been able to get little from the Cullens about you. “And who might you be, my dear?” he asked with a spark of interest shining in his eyes.

He held out a hand fully expecting you to take it, when your phone dinged with an incoming text. You put up a finger telling him to wait a moment while you pulled it out to respond. Aro blinked in disbelief as the other two kings shifted on their thrones in annoyance.

“Are we boring you, human?” Caius asked.

You glanced at him as your phone rang. You answered without looking at the screen and passed it to Aro. “It’s for you.”

The room was quiet save for some sounds of agreement from the raven haired king and a final “I understand,” before he ended the call and handed your phone back to you. He smiled before turning back to your cousin and the Cullens as if nothing had happened. “Now, what to do with young Bella and more importantly the Cullens for violating our most sacred laws.”

Caius’ gaze shifted between you and Aro. “You already know what you’re going to do. Get on with it.”

“I assure you that we had no intention of violating any laws. Bella will be one of us. I’ll change her myself,” Alice said holding out a hand.

You huffed a laugh. “He has no intention of changing her. The pixie might but not soulless here.”

Bella spun to face you, her hands fisted at her sides. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re my cousin. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Bella, shut up.” Ignoring Bella’s offended expression, you held your hand out for Aro. “See for yourself.” Leaving your cousin alone in the woods with all her knowledge intact while they took off with no intention to return didn’t speak well for any of the Cullens.

Aro gently took your hand in his and read the memories you allowed him access to. Before he even had a chance to release you, the doors to the throne room flew open. A blur flashed across the room until it came to a stop between you and the Volturi king.

Your view was suddenly full of the back of a finely tailored suit. “You dare?” came the familiar baritone and you smiled at being in his presence again regardless of the circumstances.

You placed a hand on Elijah and he turned to look at you. “I asked him to.”

The look your mate leveled on you was entirely unimpressed. You knew better than to invite anyone into your brain without good reason.

“I assure you, I meant no harm,” Aro said. “I already spoke with Niklaus.”

Elijah hummed in thought as he looked from you to the king. Finally he looked past him to the other two, giving them a nod in greeting. “A pleasure, as always.”

“Elijah,” Marcus returned with a nod. “I’m afraid you have us at a loss. Aro was the only one to speak with your brother.”

“Ah,” the Original said in understanding. He stepped aside and placed his hand on your back to pull you to stand beside him. “In that case, allow me to introduce my mate.”

A slight widening of the eyes was the only indication of the kings’ surprise.

Apparently annoyed at having been forgotten, Edward spoke up. “I’m sorry, but can someone fill us in? The thoughts are too chaotic to follow and I can’t read either of them at all.”

“You’re a rude thing, aren’t you?” you said. “Quit digging in people’s brains without their permission.”

“It’s not like I can control it.”

“Liar.”

Elijah glanced at you. “I take it this is the boy that left your cousin in the woods to be eaten by wolves?”

You nod in answer. “Edward Cullen and his sister Alice.”

Elijah shifted his attention in surprise. “Cullen? I know Carlisle though it’s been a while. Is Jasper still with your coven?”

“How do you know Jazzy?” Alice asked.

“How remiss of me,” Aro interjected. “Allow me to introduce Elijah Mikaelson.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to you and his sister looked a little sick. “You’re mated to a Mikaelson?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie boy. I’m mated to all of them.”

Aro giggled. “Which means she’s the most protected and deadliest woman on the planet. And she’s rather displeased with you, dear Edward.”

Bella scoffed. “Her? As if. She’s nobody. Always has been. Always will be.”

Edward pulled her back into his chest. “Shut up, Bella.”

When she started to protest, he covered her mouth with his hand. His gaze shifted between you and your mate. “I assure you, I was only doing what I thought best for Bella. I will always do what’s best for Bella.”

“And you think that’s you?” Elijah asked.

Edward shook his head. “No, but it seems I don’t have much of a choice.”

You looked at Aro. The Volturi were in charge of the cold ones. It had been that way for thousands of years. Your mates didn’t get involved unless they were asked. “I don’t like him, but he has a point. She graduates in May.”

Aro nodded slowly. “Very well. We expect her to be turned within a week of her graduation. Until then you may go.” He waved them away, no longer interested in the Cullens and their pet.

“Oh, Cullens,” Caius called, stopping them at the door. “Should you fail, it won’t be us you answer to.”

Edward shot another glance in your direction before giving a nod and dragging Bella through the doors, his hand still firmly covering her lips.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

-

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it. 

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

-

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

-

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt. 

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

-

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

-

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply. 

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

[luvyeni]

❛A VERY HAPPY ENDING❜ ( l. felix )

p. masseuse!felix x fem!reader w. 2.3k

warnings? fingering, boob play, oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, cum eating

— 𖦹 ( you're in need of a break and to relax, so your friend makes you a well needed reservation at a massage parlor ) !

authors note. i suddenly remember when felix would go around and give people massages and i came up with this, so enjoy 😁.

“Jesus yn, what the hell happened in here?” your roommate entered your room. “it’s like a tornado hit your room; did this, left — spun the block and hit it again.” She said, stepping over the pile of clothes on the floor to your bed. “im sorry I didn’t have enough time this week to clean, too busy at work.”

“looks like you didn’t have the time to do your hair and anything else, you look like a hobo.” You clicked away at your keyboard, rolling your eyes. “did you come in here to insult me?” you questioned. “cause that could’ve been a text.”

“I came in here to tell you that you need to take a break, you’re working yourself to death.” She voiced her concerns. “im fine.” You said. “baby no you not and that’s okay, we can fix that cause you can’t keep living like this.” She was right, — your job had recently had layoffs and you and the rest of the people that were spared were worked to the bone to replace the missing people; which meant more work and long hours, so you didn’t have much time to do anything.

“living like what?” you turned in your chair. “babe when was the last time you had any me time?” you shrugged. “maybe about a month ago, I think.” She sighed. “exactly you need to relax, that’s why as your roommate and the bestest friend in the world, I took the liberty of scheduling us both for a massage at my favorite masseuse parlor this weekend.”

“I don’t have time this weekend there’s a— nope I don’t want to hear it.” She covered her ears. “you’re gonna put the laptop down this weekend and go out and have some relaxation time.” She said. “even if I have to drag you out myself.”

You sighed, knowing your friends wouldn’t back down unless you agreed. “fine we’ll go.” She clapped, standing up. “great!” she chipped. “its gonna be great, I swear you’ll feel like a new woman after this.” She said hugging you; before making her way to the door, looking around the room once more. “and maybe then you’ll come to your senses and clean this pigsty.” She scrunched her nose up in disgust before leaving out.

The next few days were busy and finally Friday rolled around and the weekend was finally here. That evening you got home and your friend was already going at your room claiming ‘we need to get this together before we become new women.” You sighed, dropping your bag; changing your clothes before you also jumped in and you tackled the crazy that was your room; you both finished; covered in sweat from the deep clean. “girl you better be paying me fore that.” Your friend huffed. “I worked like a damn dog.”

“thank you.” You said, ready to take a shower and hop into bed. “no problems girl.” Your friend hopped up. “now get some sleep cause our girls day starts at 10:30 am sharp.” She skipped out her room. “and make sure to tidy up down there.” She pointed to your below area. “why do I need to do that?” you crossed your legs. “just listen to me, and do it goodnight.”

“is it noticeable.” You said looking down; had it been a long time? “no.” you scoffed getting your pajamas ready. “shes crazy.” You said, thinking for a minute. “well it couldn’t hurt anyone.” You grabbed a new razor from your nightstand before making your way into the bathroom.

The next day you a woken feeling a little bit more refreshed than usual; sleeping in a little later than normal and in a clean room really was nice. You woke up, getting ready for the day with your roommate.

You spent the whole morning and early afternoon out with your roommate; getting your hair and nails done, shopping for new clothes and other things for the apartment. It was almost time for you both to head over to the massage place; so you stopped for lunch then headed right over.

“we’re here.” She pulled into the parking lot. “it even looks fancy outside.” You stepped out of the car. “I booked our appointments for a least busy time so it should be empty so we won’t have to wait long.” You both walked into the place, standing at the front desk. “hello?” you friend tapped the bells and a boy came scurrying out.

“hello, welcome to our day spa, do you both have a appointment?” he said. “yes we do its under (f/l/n).” he typed down on the computer, your friend turned to you mouthing ‘he’s cute’ to which you shook your head at her antics.

“oh here it is.” He laughed after struggling to find it. “which one of you is scheduled for felix and which one of you is scheduled for changbin?” you turned to your friend. “does it matter?” she nodded. “changbin is much muscular and he hits all the right places “ you furrowed your eye brows. “you seem to know a lot about this place.”

“if I may?” the man in front of you said. “felix is very good too, he’s the most popular here, everyone always asks for him.” You nod, well if he’s good that’s all that matters, anyway a massage is a massage. “okay.”

He guided you both to two different rooms. “you can go in there and you there, they both should be here soon so you can get undressed and wait.” He walked away. “undressed?” you turned to your friend. “yeah you have to fully be undressed.” She said. “is that why you told me to shave?” she winked, walking into her room shutting the door. “crazy.” You walked into your room closing the door.

You stripped down to your underwear, taking the towel, wrapping it around your waist, pulling your panties down your leg, sitting them down on your pile of clothes — just as the door opened, making you jump, covering your chest. “oh im sorry I thought you’d be laying down already.” He said. “its okay.” You said. “I was just finishing up.”

“well you can lay down now and we can start.” He dimmed the lights. “I can light candles if you want.” You smiled, nodding. “thank you.” You laid down, your boobs hitting the cold leather, making you hiss at the sensation. “you okay?” felix finished lightning the last candle. “y-yes im fine.” You felt your face heat up that he heard that noise. “okay we can get started now.”

You rested your head on your arms; you felt a warm liquid hit your back, making you flinch. “is it too hot?” you shook your head. “just shocked me a little.” You heard him chuckle. “don’t be scared, its just eucalyptus and peppermint oil.” He explained, you felt him rubbing it along your back, you sighed at his touch. “it helps with inflammation and pain.”

The boy in the front was right; he was a godsend with his hands, it’s like he knew you like the back of his hand, hitting all the right places, your body slowly began to relax. “you seem so tense, do you work a lot?” he asked. You hummed. “its not good to work like that, too much stress can cause a lot of knots and that causes pain.” He pressed down on one spot that made your eyes shoot open; a low whimper coming out of your mouth.

“oh , im sorry.” You cursed at yourself, embarrassed at how it just slipped out. “that’s good, it means I’m doing a good job.” He said. “don’t be embarrassed.” He said in a low soft tone, his deep voice sending a wave of arousal in your gut. “let out all the noises you want.”

His hands moved to your side, rubbing them gently; making his way up to the side of your boobs. “is this okay?” you hummed, pretty sure at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept talking to you like that.

His hands rubbed the sides of your bust gently, you bit your lip to contain any noises that tried to force their way out. “you don’t have to hide them.” He said. “I want to hear them.” You couldn’t for the life of you wrap your head around why this stranger has such an effect on you; but you didn’t stop the next noise that came out of your mouth. “fu-fuck.”

He worked down your back, right above your ass, where the towel covered, pressing down. “its seems really tense here.” He pressed down harder, you whimpered. He worked down to your legs, pushing the towel to sit right above your thighs. He poured some more warm oil on your legs, rubbing your calves, making his way up to your thighs — dangerously close to your bare bottom.

Felix never would’ve done this with another client; he would’ve stopped right at your back — but he couldn’t help it, you were making so much noise and he had to admit; it was turning him on, a lot — and he wanted to see how far he could go.

His hands were entering dangerous territory as he rubbed the in of your thighs, you could feel the heat of his fingers on your cunt, he could easily touch it if he wanted — and you really wanted him to.

It’s like he read your mind cause his next words made your heart race. “if you want me to touch you, you have to say something.” He said. “I wont do anything you don’t want me to.” He said. “i-I want you to.” You said breathlessly. “then turn around.”

You turned on your back, his hands work all the back up to your boobs, gently cupping them; you let out a soft moan. “let me hear you.” He pinched your bud, your back arched up; giving him the leeway to undo the towel, your bare cunt for him to see — thank god you shaved. “so pretty.” His hands travel down to your pussy, lightly touching it. “pl-please.”

“you want me to touch you?” you nodding. “ye-yes.” He smiled, his hand spreading your legs; fingers grazing your clit. “good you used your words.” He rubbed your clit, spreading your folds. “such a pretty cunt.” He whispered. “so soft.” He pushed a finger inside of you. “so wet.” He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling the to hit that gummy spot inside of you. “you gonna cum, I can feel you clenching.” He used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “you can cum.”

And just like that you were on his finger, moaning out loud. “so loud.” he sat on the massage table in front of your breathless naked body. “I want to hear more.” He kissed your neck, climbing on top of your body to leave little kisses down the valley of your breath, taking a nipple into his mouth as he sat on his knees in between your legs, his hard cock evident as he pressed it against your cunt.

“sh-shit.” You moaned as he grinding his hips against you, sucking on your nipples. “pl-please fuck me.” That was all he needed, before he undid his pants freeing his hard cock. “you sure you want to do this?” he said. “im a stranger and — I want this, please.” You needed this, you needed him to fuck you. “please fuck me.”

He pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” He slowly worked himself in and out of you. “you need to relax, you’re so tense I can barely -fuck- I can barely move inside of you.” You whined as he used the pad of his thumb to rub your bud. “that’s it.” He sighed. “open up for me.”

He moved his hips fluidity, his cock hitting all the spots your vibrator just didn’t. “fe-felix.” His name flowing right out of your mouth as he worked his way in and out of you. “fe-feels so good.” He moved faster, you felt your orgasm approaching. “im gonna cum.” Your voice was shaky as your clenched tightly around him.

“fuck me too.” He grunted, he moving faster. “felix im cumming.” You gasped, the knot in your stomach snapping as you came. “shit you’re too tight.” He moaned, his orgasm approaching quickly. “shit.” He pulled out as fast as he could, cumming all over your cunt. “fuck.”

“one more.” He said, his face near your cunt. “I want to give you one more.” He licked your folds, the taste of your cunt and his cum on his tongue was dizzying. “fu-fuck.” You were feeling overstimulated at the point, but you still felt your third orgasm approaching fast. “oh fuck.” You gasped. “fuck im gonna cum!” thinking he was gonna move away, but he didn’t he stayed there drinking up all you have to offer. “fe-felix.” You had to push his head away to keep him from going on.

He pulled away, wiping his mouth; your body was fully relaxed by now; the service time was probably long over. “shit my boss is gonna kill me.” He quickly redressed himself, helping you get dressed. “that sounded harsh, I really liked it.” He said, you laughed, pulling your shirt down. “I understand, my friend has probably called me a thousand times.” You pulled out your phone, and believe it or not there were no phone calls from her, but two text messages.

(friends name)🩷| I told you you’d like him…

(friends name)🩷| have fun girl, I’ll wait in the car😉

Your face burned with embarrassment. “I would like to see you again.” He said. “me-me?” he nodded. “yes, if that’s okay.” You nodded. “I would love to see you again.” He smiled, as you gave him your number. “lets see each other soon.” He nodded. “is the weekend coming up okay?” he wanted to see you as soon as he could — he needed to. “We can get dinner and maybe see a movie.” He moved closer to you, caging you against the bed a smirk on his face.

“and I can give you a even better happy ending than today, only if you’re good though.”

©️LUVYENI

[swee7dream]

3:30 p.m.

“i thought i blocked you.”

“me?” ex!haechan looks around the room with a faux-innocent index pressing into his chest. “no, i think you’re confused, my dear. my name is chanhae. this is our first time meeting. one of my girlfriends was singing praises about how you did her nails for her bachelorette party and i just had to get your number.” his hands remind you of a ragdoll’s, flapping around as he speaks.

“get out of my house, donghyuck.”

your bluntness makes him slump in his chair, your desk lamp’s lighting painting him impossibly more pathetic as he pouts like a kicked dog.

“no. i’m a paying customer.”

“you haven’t paid me sh-”

“ah ah ah!” he holds a finger inches away from your lips. “language! is this how you talk to all of your clientele?”

you’ve never won an argument with lee donghyuck. it’s one of the reasons you decided to call it quits over text a week ago, pride being a major factor of your personality.

“he’s been crying. a lot,”  jeno told you with some reservation, his nail digging into the plastic straw of his sonic shake. “you don’t have to take him back. i’m not saying that at all. just… one conversation. for closure.”

you remember explicitly saying no but you can’t let yourself be free of blame when you accepted an appointment for instagram user ‘chanhae_imycbpiomkb’ with ‘her’ zero followers and following that consisted of only you.

god, he’s such a freak.

your gloved hand snatches his finger, pushing it into a position that almost feels like it’ll pull it out of place but not quite.

“what do you want done on your nubs, chanhae?”

donghyuck lets out a yelp of pain, dropping his free arm on the table as a cushion for when he drops his head also. fixing his hand into a more comfortable position yet not pulling it away, he smiles.

“whatever your pretty little heart desires, my dear. let me be your muse.”

“i’m giving you twelve inch nails. neon leopard print.”

“how will i wipe?”

“your problem.”

“okay...” he sighs, accepting his punishment with arms wide open.

[credince--writes]

Scary Dog

You need a new printer. Sometimes you need to bring negotiation aids.

Useless, shitty little one-shot because I need something else to work on.

Konig x Medic!Reader

Scary dog privileges

Your pen tapped against the desk you sat at. The smell of sanitizer and printer ink was fresh on your nose.

And, well your skin too.

That goddamn printer, it was always breaking, half of the time you thought it would just catch fire.

It would be easier that way if it just did, then you'd be able to get a new one.

But, alas, you weren't the head bitch of the armed-with-alcohol-pads crew. That lovely position was reserved by Lud.

All the other doctors lovingly refer to him as Dud.

Because that is what he is.

A Dud.

A lazy, selfish, piece of-

You were getting sidetracked.

He would always deny your requests for a new printer, and at this point, it was a hindrance to your job.

The black ink splattered all over you, staining your shirt and skin was proof of that.

You prided yourself in your work,

your efficiency.

Your ability to get the things others couldn't get done, done.

Just so happened that because of this, you got the....

How could you phrase it?

Well,

you got the scary dogs.

They were big, and they looked mean as hell.

But all it took was a threatening glance and they were rolling over showing their soft puppy bellies to her.

Maybe it was the dum dums you brought back from America to give them as a treat for being a good patient.

"That's it!" You slapped your hands on your desk, throwing the muddled papers scatted across the floor as you swiped your arms across the desk.

All of the papers were useless, all thanks to that fucking printer.

Stomping out of your little office, you made your way through the hallway and into the main living space for the team.

"I need a dog!" You yell, catching everyone in the space's attention.

"What?" One of the men ask.

You promptly ignore him, scanning the room and walking- angrily - might you add to find the perfect scary dog.

"A big- scary fucking dog!" You flail your arms in the air.

And your eyes landed on him.

Oh.

He'd do.

He'd do just fine.

"König." You call out, sickly sweet.

He was already staring at you, giving you a cautious glance.

"Did you fight an octopus, doctor?" He asks.

His accent, it was thick.

Just like the rest of him, you suppose.

Music to your ears.

"Would you please accompany me to Doctor Dud?"

He stands, lifting his body to its natural heigh, towering above you.

Perfect.

"Is everything alright?"

"I just need you... to be my big scary dog." You smile.

That smile could make him do horrible things.

"Uh...?" He asks, confused.

"Be intimidating. Be my persuasion, can you do that for me? Please König?" You bat your eyelashes- not too much. A subtle blink or so.

His name falling off your lips.

He had to catch himself for falling forward as he zoned out, looking down at you as you so sweetly begged for his presence.

"Of course." He nodded.

"Great!" You grinned, that evil toothy Cheshire smile.

Pulling him along- not this his long stride took up two of yours- you stood outside of Dud's office. Knocking on the door twice, you pushed the door open and made eye contact with him.

He never really took the time to work with the special teams.

They were a little rowdy for him.

"What do I owe the pleasure....." His voice trailed off, looking up and meeting the narrow, deadly gaze of König.

"Oh, I think the printer is on the fritz again!" You laughed lightly, innocently.

Oh, how evil.

"... I can see that." He said.

"I think it would be best if I just got the new printer." You said, tilting your head to the side. "You see, König was in my office but he can't go about his day until his paperwork gets finished!" You laughed.

"Well... I don't think a new one is in the cards right now-"

"Oh no!" You fake pouted. "I'd hate to cause your mission to delay König." She glances up at him.

His eyes were fixed on Dud.

His presence loomed.

It was as if he sucked the heat from the room, leaving the air in a suffocating freeze.

"Oh- well-" Dud stammers.

"We wouldn't want to cause any inconveniences to König here, would we?" You ask innocently.

Dud swears that a red glint flashes in König's eyes.

"Of course not!" He all but heaves out, sweat collecting on his brow.

"So, new printer?" You ask happily.

"I'll have it brought down right away."

"Great!" You smile, turn, and quickly walk out of the door.

König doesn't move, opting to leave an impression by standing there in silence a few seconds longer, staring into his soul.

"König!" You call.

His head snaps back, releasing him from his trance. He spins on his heel and quickly exits the room, tailing you.

Man, maybe next you could get new linens!

[malum-forev]

Hurry Back Home

Summary: The four times you showed up at Bucky’s place unexpected.

Part 1

The first time was a month after the two of you broke up. Once your red rimmed eyes depuffed from the constant tears and you managed to get his name out. Your friends had come over once or twice to check up on you but you’d always lie. 

“Thank you for stopping by but really, I’m okay.” You lied when they came by the first time, resting your body on the doorframe and keeping the door close to you so they wouldn’t see your Bucky covered apartment. You still hadn’t taken the pictures down, hadn’t washed your sheets because you could still catch a glimpse of his cologne and you sure as hell hadn’t stopped wearing the Henley he kept at your place. The one you were currently hiding underneath a big sweatshirt.

Of course they didn’t believe you but it was always better to give you some space. 

“Call us whenever and we’ll be here.” One of your friends said, you nodded and closed the door. 

You deeply regretted living in an apartment with paper thin walls when you heard your other friend say: “I really thought those two were endgame.”

But now, I’d been a month and it seemed like the sun was ready to shine again. The pain still felt unbearable but it was most likely because Bucky was still imprinted in your apartment. So one Sunday morning, you grabbed a cardboard box and decided enough was enough. Almost with closed eyes as to not relive the good memories, you started chucking everything that reminded you of him. 

Goodbye rubber spatula Bucky melted half to death the first time he cooked you breakfast. Sayonara to the broken picture frame he’d glued back together after slamming your body against the wall that time you two came back tipsy and horny from the bar. Farewell to the plush blanket he insisted you needed in your living room the day your heater went out. Would it be too over the top if you brought the heater back to its broken state because he fixed it? 

As you passed through the kitchen, you saw the small plate Bucky gave you when you went to that pottery class. A lopsided dish he’d made too oval and too deep to actually be useful but with the way his tongue poked out in concentration as he made, it there was no way you could tell him it wasn’t perfect. He hadn’t let you see his final design but a few days later, after it had been fired, you finally saw what he had painted. At the center of the plate, in his almost illegible messy handwriting, read: This is a plate, -Bucky <3. 

You shoved the dish all the way back inside one of your kitchen drawers, not wanting to think about it anymore but not wanting to throw away such a meaningful gift. Not yet.

You grabbed another smaller box and shoved all the clothes Bucky had left behind over the months. A couple of Henleys, some underwear, his leather jacket, and the gloves he’d stopped wearing. 

“Not today, Doll.” He’d smiled, lowering your hands holding the leather gloves. “I don’t need them when I’m with you.”

Before you could think about it too much, you opened your door and walked over to his apartment with his things. You dropped the box at his doorstep and turned to leave but you heard his locks turn. 

A gasp got caught in your throat and you were almost positive your heart missed a beat. The plan wasn’t to see him, you weren’t ready to see him. Maybe you could make a run for it? But it would be too obvious! You’ll look ridiculous! Maybe you can play dead? It works for dogs! 

But before you could make a decision, you heard his voice. The sweet tone he reserved just for your ears, soft and comforting. 

“Hi.” His smile was small not reaching his eyes. “How are you?”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “I’m okay. I thought it was time to drop your things off.”

“Oh,” His usual crystal blue eyes now adorned an all too familiar red hue, the bags under his eyes big and purple. But before you could feel sorry, a cheery voice appeared from the inside of his apartment. 

“We should be leaving soon.” A woman came into view, her tactical suit showed you she worked with Bucky but the way her arm rested on his shoulder showed you she’s more than just a coworker. “Wouldn’t want to miss our reservation.”

You didn’t let your mouth drop to the floor just out of pure pride. 

How could I have been so stupid to think Bucky wasn’t over me yet? You thought.

You kicked the cardboard box lightly with the tip of your shoe. “Just wanted to drop off your things.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, your sudden change of demeanor confused him. But your eyes pingponging from the box to him to Jessica gave him more answers than he needed. He started shaking his head, wanting to explain to you that Jessica didn’t know who you were and that’s why she was saying they were going out. He wanted to explain that the only reason she was in his apartment was because she had to borrow some unmarked guns for her mission. He especially wanted to explain to you that Jessica wasn’t interested in guys like him- actually she wasn’t interested in guys at all!

“You can keep or throw out anything you have of mine, I don’t want it.” You said rolling your eyes, turning to leave but he held your elbow wanting to get even a single word in. But he didn’t get a chance to say anything.

You tugged your arm back and left, closing your apartment door with a bang. 

The second time was a few weeks after you had given Bucky his belongings. You’d started watching the news again, not caring whenever they showed a picture of him. At least that’s what you told your friends. You finally returned to your favorite coffee shop, even though it hurt when the barista asked where your boyfriend was. You’d managed to say it was just you this time but were too distracted with your own thoughts to see the glimmer in the guy’s eyes when you said it. 

Today was an especially important day, your first run since the breakup. You welcomed the familiar burn in your lungs and the feeling of freedom. You jogged up to the door of your apartment just to see a brown paper bag with your name on it. You eyed it quizzically, looking around to figure out if you could spot who left it. But inside was a harmless coffee with a note written on the side: What’s a morning run without your morning coffee?

At first it made you smile, thinking about all the times you would drink coffee with Bucky. A little slice of normalcy and routine in his otherwise chaotic world. That ritual the two of you created was one of the only things he could control.

But the sweet thoughts turned sour as you remembered the blonde’s arm on Bucky. Who the hell does he think he is? He can go out and date but you? You have to be constantly reminded of the relationship? 

I don’t fucking think so. 

You marched up the stairs straight to his door and banged on it three times. You didn’t mind the time, you knew he was up since sunrise. 

No answer. You brought your fist up to the door again and knocked five times, your patience running thin and your energy low. 

A few seconds later a messy haired groggy Bucky opened up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palms. 

“You were asleep?” You forgot why you were here in the first place, more concerned about the fact that your ex-boyfriend who never slept in past 5:45 and was now barely waking up at 8 am! Had he not been sleeping at night? Was he getting nightmares again? Was he benched from the team?

“Was, past tense.” He yawned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

His kind blue eyes convinced you for a second but the coffee in your hand reminded you of your anger. 

“I wanted to hand deliver this.” You pushed the coffee into his chest. “And to tell you that these mind games you’re playing are not working. I’m done, we’re done. So don’t come here wanting to stir up things that have been buried. We used to drink coffee after our runs but not anymore, not together at least! So stop it, and I don’t want it.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked down at the drink in his hands. You’d left him speechless. Truthfully, leaving the big and scary Winter Soldier inarticulate did wonders for your self-esteem-

“Did you read the other side of the cup?” Bucky asked in an annoyed tone.

“What?” 

He rolled his eyes and turned the cup, bringing it close to your face. “The back of the coffee says: Come into the coffee shop for a free pastry and a date – Jack.”

You felt your face blush, heat consuming your whole body. 

“I-when- I didn’t read-“ You stammered. 

“Are we done here?” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’re getting flooded with date propositions but could we keep the ‘bragging about it to your ex’ to a minimum?” 

You furiously nodded and whispered a small: “Sorry about that.”

The third time was four months after the breakup. You thought you were doing great, making progress. You’d been on a date or two that didn’t amount to anything but it counted, right? Everything seemed normal until you heard about the last mission. 

You had turned on the TV and the news station was doing a 24hr coverage of a rescue mission. Something about super soldier serums being reproduced and hostages being taken. You didn’t need to see him on the screen to know he was there. An unusual feeling gnawed at your chest. 

Before, when you were dating, you would get anxious about him going on missions but this time it was different. Like you knew something bad was going to happen.

And then you saw the coverage, the warehouse had been wired with explosives. Every wall blown up into ashes. “There have been no survivors until now.” The newscaster said. 

Your heart races thinking of him. This can’t be true, right? You know there’s no possibility of him not being there, he’s the one who is supposed to handle super soldiers for fucks sake! But the thought of him not making it is out of the question. You cannot even process the information. A shocking sob rips through your chest as you hear the total fatalities number rise.  

You had wanted to be informed of everything happening but at some point in the night, you fell asleep with the TV turned on. A faint noise woke you up, your senses heightened to a thousand. You brought closer the sleeves of one of Bucky’s heneleys that had been mixed up with the clothes at the back of your closet and took in his faint scent. But then you heard it again, the unmissable groan of his apartment door. You told him to get it fixed a thousand times but he would always say: “Just because something’s old doesn’t mean it needs to be fixed.”

You rushed outside and saw him, opening his apartment door. You couldn’t believe it, were you dreaming? 

You ran to him and just as he turned around you wrapped your arms around him, you couldn’t help the tears running down your face. 

“Is there something wrong?” Bucky asked, worry written all over your face, as he brushed the hair off of your face. “Are you hurt.”

A laugh ripped through your chest and you shoved his shoulder. “Wrong with me? You scared me half to death! I though you didn’t make it.”

You whispered the last part, wanting to hide the tremble in your voice. 

He took your head in his hands, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m all right doll, see, I’m still in one piece.”

You nodded and sniffled, bringing your head to his chest. 

“I’ve been looking for this.” Bucky let out a small laugh, placing kisses on the top of your head, while tugging on his shirt. But before you could tell him he could have it back, he said: “Keep it, it looks better on you.”

The fourth time you showed up at Bucky’s place unexpected was a month later. For about a week, you’d been getting this weird feeling. You had seen the same person twice in the subway and then once turning the corner to your apartment. At first, you thought it was a coincidence but today was the third day you saw the same man. Bucky had taught you that whenever you feel in danger you should go around the block once. No person that isn’t following you is going to turn right twice, ending up in the same spot you started. He said that if after doing that, they were still on your tail you should immediately go to his place. No matter the time and no matter the situation.  

You looked over your shoulder before turning right for the fourth time hoping the man would enter one of the many apartments or stores lining your street. Maybe he was lost? But no, he kept his pace following you. Your breath hitched as you considered your options. A) Lead this person straight to your apartment and get murdered or B) Face your ex-boyfriend. 

You considered option A for a second, it would be less awkward. But you shook your head. You rushed up the stairs and made use of the spare key to Bucky’s apartment you hadn’t returned. You quickly closed the door and leaned back on it, trying to regain your breath. You did as you were once told, you grabbed the gun from underneath his dining room table and pointed at the door until he got home. 

An hour later, you saw the lock turn and the door slowly open. You pointed the gun straight on and waited for whoever was behind the door to come in. 

“It’s just me,” You heard Bucky’s voice before he came in. “You’re safe.”

You let out a breath as he came into view, setting the gun back on the table. “How’d you know I was here?”

“You think I don’t have cameras?” Bucky chuckled as he lowered his work backpack onto the kitchen island. “I saw you snooping around, by the way.”

The corners of your lips turned upwards, partly because you were caught but mostly because you didn’t find any indications that there had been a woman in his place. 

“What happened?” He asked, sitting across from you. 

“I think I’m being followed.” You chewed on your bottom lip nervously. 

“Think?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows.

“The same man has been following me from my apartment to work and back for the past week. And he’s not even being sneaky about it. We’ve made eye-contact and everything.”

Bucky ran his hand across his face. “And you waited a week to tell me?!”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not totally comfortable telling my ex that someone is following me!” You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, I did what you told me and now I’m here.”

“I took a picture of him when he wasn’t looking.” You pushed your phone closer to Bucky only to see the color drain out of his face. “What’s the matter?”

“The-these- this guy, I saw him at the warehouse.” Bucky muttered. “They’re sending me a message.”

“What are we going to do?” You asked quietly. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared as he got filled with rage. “We? We aren’t doing anything. I am going to go to them and kill every single one. I don’t care- they’re dead tomorrow morning.”

“Buck-“ You placed a hand on his chest but he turned around, getting up from the table. He paced around his apartment, face red with anger. “Buck! Stop!”

His eyes darkened. “Stop? Stop and do what? Wait until they hurt the woman that I love? I’m not going to just sit back and take the high road. They deserve to be in the ground and I’m going to make sure it happens. No one can get near you. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed so much already for them to get close to you.”

“They’ve gotten too close already. I shouldn’t have let them, but they’re here now. And they’re going to see what happens when you piss me off. I broke my heart in two just to make sure you were going to be safe. And they won’t take that away from you, not your safety. I will do whatever is necessary.” 

You gasped at his words. 

“Is that- is that why-“ Bucky didn’t let you finish, his saddened gaze gave you the answer. 

“Do you love me?” You asked him, your heart speaking the words your brain couldn’t let you pronounce. His eyes were set on the ground. You took two steps to him, grabbing his face and looking into his eyes. 

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll drop it. We never have to talk about this again, we’ll finish with the mercenaries and I will never speak a word to you again. Just say the words. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

Worried creases appeared on Bucky’s forehead, battling with himself. “I could never keep you safe. You will always be in danger.”

“Say it.” You ordered. “Say that you don’t love me but know that it won’t go away. I will always be something they hang over your head because I’ll love you forever.” 

His steel blue eyes met yours and looked down at your lips. 

“I’ll never be safe, but that’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend even a minute back in your arms.” You whispered.

Bucky crashed his lips into yours, a rushed and feverish kiss that had you seeing stars. The type that has you gasping for air but not knowing that if it is your last, it was worth it. Bucky pulled you closer to him, his cologne and desperation made you dizzy. 

“I’ll love you forever.” He whispered once you separated. “I promise to keep you safe, I’ll do whatever I have to. I cannot be without you, I was a fool to think I could.”

You smiled into his lips but his warmth left too soon. 

Bucky placed another kiss on your lips before walking to the door. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Where are you going?” You gripped his arm, wanting nothing more than for him to come back to you. 

He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Anyone who dares to threaten you gets to see a part of me that I once buried.”

Your eyes met as he counted the bullets inside his gun and slid a knife into his pocket. 

“Hurry back home.” You said.

For the first time in months, Bucky let out a smile.    

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post! 💖

Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for reading pt. 1 and encouraging me to write this! I hope you guys like it! As always pls comment reblog and like! Love you guyssss

Tags: @verygraphicink @rouge-raven13 @behindmygreyeyes @ximi1315 @runi1 @lia-winther @aneluvs @kpopgirlbtssvt

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 1 ◇ Part 2

Warnings: none except mentions of readers past traumas, mention of sexual objectification.

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt no comfort.

A/n: it's my first long-fic, please be nice :)

You're not used to being loved.

Your parents were always strict, hardly ever showing their affection, you didn't even have any close friends until you started working, where you found your best friend who showed you the blessings of a platonic love; but time passes and things happen, you had to move out of the town, leave your one true friend behind.

You are not used to love but especially romantic love, because all men did was see you as the object of their sexual desires, or maybe a good time-pass until a better one came along. Never as a person with feelings, never as a woman who loved them more than they loved her.

Sometimes you were too much, sometimes you weren't enough.

Too affectionate, too clingy, too dramatic, too loud. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not horny enough. You tried and tried to be more, to be less, to be loved, but despite your efforts, love remained elusive, even with women.

So, after years of hoping and yearning, you resigned yourself to a loveless existence.

It is not to say that you never felt happy; even if you didn’t have love, you had fun and drama, you had friends to drink with (accompanied by the ting of pain the day after), you had a lot of books to read (leaving a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you finished one), you had dates and clothes and all the good and beautiful things in life and you've learned to appreciate these fragments of happiness.

But sometimes you get lonely.

You are used to it at this point, the crushing weight in your chest at 11 PM is your daily ritual before you finally give in to sleep.

So when you see Osamu Miya’s warm smile as he greets you in his restaurant, you battle to stop your stupid crazed heart, which is currently trying to jump out of your mouth.

You are just a client, his smile doesn’t mean anything, he is only doing his job, and you have seen him give the same smile to the old ladies who only order a coffee and linger to chatter for more than two hours, too. He’s a professional, after all. You are a regular and all he wants is your money, the bastard.

(you completely ignore the fact that he remembers details about you that no one bothers to remember; like the colour of your jewellery, the names of the dogs in your shelter or how your eyeliner is a little glittered today.)

Still, you are glad you got to know him. If anything, at least he is a good friend to you, always listening to what you have to say and filling your stomach with delicious food.

“ ‘Evening, Y/N. The usual?” He asks. You nod as you sit on the corner of the counter, the same seat you sat on the first day you came in.

(Osamu puts a “Reserved” sign on it every day until your arrival, not letting anyone else sit on it because it’s yours. But you don’t need to know that.)

You chatter with Tsumoto, the part-timer student who works in his shop, about his new crush, giving him advice you wouldn’t listen to nor follow from somebody else, and just as you are about to tell him that he should just write love letters to his crush, the doorbell rings; a pretty girl with dark long hair and the body of a goddess walks in, looking around for something, or better, for someone.

“‘Samuuu!” she calls him just as he comes out of the kitchen, and his face lights up, his arms envelop her figure and her lips meet his cheeks in an affectionate gesture.

… what?

“Emi! How are you, doll?” his voice holds tenderness as he guides the girl to one of the seats available, “Have a seat, I'll fix something up for you.”

She is a beautiful girl indeed, her hair flutters in the air like sea waves and her deep green eyes would make any man weak in his knees. She graces him with a smile, her flawless teeth gleaming.“A coffee is enough ‘Samu, I’m going to meet a friend soon.”

“Roger that!” he nods, signaling to Tsumoto for the order, before returning his attention to her.

He looks happy, you don’t think he has ever looked at you with this much fondness, and you’ve never witnessed any girl embrace him, let alone kiss his cheek. Hell, you didn’t even know if he had any female friends who were not his friends’s girlfriends.

(You feel your vision blur and something clenches in your chest. You swallow it down.)

You have no idea what they are talking about, you are not listening, all you can think about is how much you feel so so stupid. You didn’t hope for anything, you tried not to hope for anything at all, but feelings are hard to get rid of, especially if you see the one causing these feelings every week.

You look at them talking like best friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and the feeling of inadequacy gnaws at you. You wonder if you ever even stood a chance to begin with. You yearned to be someone close to Osamu, someone who could give him hugs and kisses easily, someone who knew everything about him; you yearned to be part of his inner circle, but now you feel utterly stupid and delusional. Of course, he would never see you in that light, his affection is reserved only for a pretty girl like her. Of course he wouldn’t even think about getting physical with you. What were you even thinking?

Of course, you can’t be part of his world.

Reblogs are really appreciated! - Part 2