#rest assured I spent a good amount of time on these

[dixons-sunshine]

Good Job! | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When out gathering supplies with Daryl, he successfully catches your dinner. To show him how proud you were, you bestowed him the highest honour you could at that moment—a sticker.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison.

Warnings: Animal death.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: Inspired by a post I saw by @darylsdelts. I hope y’all like this!

The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Birds were chirping merrily from their sanctuary in the trees and the air just felt fresher than usual. If it were the old world, you would have spent the day lounging next to some body of water, a cold beverage in your hand as you soaked up the vitamin D the sun provided.

But it was not the old world. Instead of spending the day relaxing or something along those lines, you were instead trudging through the woods in clothes too long to be worn in such intense heat, wearing shoes so heavy you were seriously amazed that people wore them simply because they wanted to before the dead started walking, lugging a duffle bag full of supplies and deadly rifle along with you—a weapon you never would have thought you would be able to handle with the immense skill you now possessed.

Despite all those nuances that, under normal circumstances, would have had you complaining, you could not find it in yourself to do so, because it was not normal circumstances. The harshness of the world run by the dead had toughened your resolve and made you realize that some discomforts definitely were not as bad as you once thought them to be. Sure, you absolutely despised having to eat worms when the situation called for it, but you held your tongue because it was certainly better than the alternative, which was to starve.

Very rarely did you complain about anything nowadays—well, that is, if you did not count in the amount of times you had complained about Glenn’s snoring before, but that was all more in good fun. And a good chunk of what you knew to survive in a world like this was all thanks to the man you were trailing behind; your partner, Daryl Dixon.

As if somehow sensing that you had been thinking of him, Daryl glanced over his shoulder at you, his blue eyes sparkling with a softness reserved only for you.

“You alright back there?” he called back to you, despite already knowing what the answer would be. You were not the type of person to complain much about anything, and that was an attribute about you that he loved.

You nodded your head and adjusted the rifle’s strap over your shoulder. “I’m fine, Dar,” you assured him, sending him a radiant smile.

He nodded his head and turned his attention back in front of him. He kept his crossbow trained in front of him as his eyes searched for any dangers that could be lurking in the shadows, be it a walker, a wild animal, or another person. His main mission was to get the two of you to his bike that had been left abandoned for the time being, as the two of you had been forced to go on foot to the cabin Michonne had come across whilst on her search for the Governor.

The cabin—which had been in pretty decent shape despite being abandoned—had been stocked with supplies. You and Daryl, along with some other people, would have to go back in the morning to get the rest of the supplies. The two of you had stumbled across a metaphorical gold mine.

“So, Daryl,” you began, deeming it safe to strike up a conversation when the man in question grunted in acknowledgement. “What’s your favourite bird?”

The unexpectedness of the question made Daryl chuckle. He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes trained forward. “I don’ know. Maybe a bluejay?”

You nodded in approval at his choice, although he could not see you do so. “Great choice.”

Daryl hummed, glancing back at you. “Why’d ya ask?” he inquired. However, his attention got diverted when he heard something in the distance, his senses jumping to high alert.

“Just curious, is all.” You transferred the duffle bag from your one hand into the other, nearly sighing in relief when the blood began circulating through it again. “What—”

“Shh,” he shushed you quietly, instantly shutting you up. He motioned for you to stay put as he quietly stalked towards the bush where the source of the noise was, his crossbow raised and ready to be fired at a moment’s notice.

The perpetrator quickly got revealed in the form of a raccoon when Daryl pulled the leaves back. It hissed up at the archer, but it quickly got silenced when one of Daryl’s bolts pierced through its body. The pained whimper it let out right before it died made your heart ache a bit, but you quickly reminded yourself that it was necessary. It meant that there was the slightest bit more nutrition to bring back to the prison. Its death would not be in vain.

Daryl picked up his bolt, the raccoon’s body sat on it, before turning back to you. He simply raised the arrow a bit, shrugging a bit as he looked at you.

“Got us our dinner,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.

You laughed lightly at him, shaking your head. However, it was as if a lightbulb went of in your head. Placing the duffle bag on the ground, you leaned down and zipped it open before rummaging through multiple cans of food and other supplies, in search of something you had bagged for little Judith to play with.

“Ah-ha!” you exclaimed victoriously when you found it, taking it out of the bag to reveal a small sticker book. You stepped towards your partner while flipping through the pages, searching for the sticker you had spotted when you had initially looked through it the first time.

You found it after a few moments. You gently peeled the sticker off of the page and pressed it against the archer’s beloved vest, the bright, neon-like yellow ‘good job!’ standing out against the gray leather. You smiled and gently patted his chest, before taking a step back.

“Good job,” you repeated the words on the sticker, giggling to yourself.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, but he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he drawled sarcastically, trying not to laugh at the silliness of the situation. “S’much appreciated.”

“Oh, come on. I know you love it,” you told him through your small fits of laughter, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

Daryl simply shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, ya know that?” Despite his words, he could not help the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He felt oddly touched by the small gesture, felt appreciated. He could not explain it.

You laughed and picked up the bag again, before beginning to walk again. “Yeah, but you love that about me.”

Among a lot of other things, Daryl thought to himself. However, he shook the thought from his mind and caught up with you, this time falling into step beside you rather than being in the lead.

As the two of you walked the remaining short distance to Daryl’s bike, with you striking up another conversation, Daryl simply admired you. He felt like the luckiest man alive for being able to say that you were his girl.

And if he got teased by the members of his found family for the sticker that remained on his vest for the rest of that day, he could not have cared less.

Taglist: @holdmytesseract @thevegandarkelf (comment/DM/inbox me to be added/removed!)

[sargebarnesx]

Someday

Pairing: AU 1940s Bucky Barnes x female reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY

Warnings: angst (with some fluff mixed in), mentions of war, mentions of gunshots, mention of death, mentions of heartbreak

Word Count: 2,076 words

Summary: Bucky Barnes has experienced many things over the last few years: love, loss, war, and heartbreak. The war is over and the woman behind his broken heart wants a second chance.

Author's Note: This idea came to me last night at 8:30 pm and I wrote over 2,000 words before bed, then spent this morning fine tuning it. This is my first attempt at angst and I’m already thinking of ideas for a happier part two 😈 hope y’all enjoy!

“Hey…you.”

There she was. Standing right in front of him on the street they had explored together many times and yet, they looked like strangers.

It took Bucky an absurd amount of effort to not call her sugar or honey or baby. To not pull her into his arms and breathe her in, breathe in that familiar and comforting lavender and vanilla scent. His arms ached as he fought the natural urge to hold her. It had been so long.

He recalled the last time he saw her, two years ago, in June of 1943. When she told him that she didn’t think they should be together anymore.

According to her tearful confession, the thought of him being deployed to Europe was too much for her to handle. She assured him that she loved him so much, but she just wasn’t strong enough to be the woman he needed while he was overseas.

Bucky thought that was complete bullshit, but he knew her mind was made up no matter how much he argued.

He spent two years fighting in the war and longing for her. 823 days worth of wondering if she was thinking about him too.

The nights were the worst. There were nights when he’d fall onto an uncomfortable cot and be woken up by the morning sun just as he’d drifted off to sleep. Some nights he took shifts with other men, dozing off on the hard ground hidden beneath thick branches, with gunshots haunting his dreams. On the good nights, he would dream of her.

He would see the diner, where the two of them would share her favorite strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream, blurred around the edges, shining bright under the afternoon sun. He would see her walking beside him, with teases of her soft skin peeking out underneath her V-neck dress. She would look up at him and smile. He loved when she smiled, but seeing her smile in his dreams made his heart ache with need. He wanted nothing more than to make it home and see that smile again.

“Hi, Bucky.”

Her hair had grown, and the ends curled towards her heart. Her face was full of emotion, almost like she had seen a ghost, and the shock drained the color from her face. Her eyes shone in the afternoon sun, and Bucky wondered if she was going to cry. She had stopped a few good steps in front of him, and the space between them felt foreign.

Space was never a concept that made itself known in their relationship. The two of them met in 1941, smack dab in the middle of the dance floor on a sweltering summer night. Bucky gravitated towards her and her electric personality, and it wasn’t long before his body was glued to hers, his hand resting respectfully low on her waist.

He walked her home that night, purposely walking just close enough that his arm would brush against hers. She stayed right next to him, throwing him flirtatious glances every time he said something charming. Eventually, their fingers were intertwined, and she pulled him onto her porch, away from the bright street lights.

He’d heard talk of the sparks, the butterflies, everything that people claimed to feel when they were in love, but he had never felt it until that night.

He felt it now, standing in front of her on the sidewalk. He hoped she felt it too.

“Bucky, I—“ she choked on her words, seemingly unsure of how to say what she was thinking. Bucky waited, not wanting to let her out of his sight, even for a minute. He reveled in the opportunity just to look at her, to take in all the features he had only seen in his mind over the last two years. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Something about that statement made Bucky angry. Looking for him? He’d been home for a week, and she knew where he lived; she must not have been looking too hard.

“Can we talk?” Bucky asked suddenly, his eyes darting to the diner, their diner, that was just across the street. She nodded, understanding immediately where he wanted to go. The two of them walked briskly across the street, still keeping a safe distance.

She reached for the door, but Bucky reached over her shoulder and gripped the handle first, pulling it open to allow her to walk through. He noticed that she walked straight to what became known as their regular booth, the same booth they occupied on their first date.

Bucky slid in across from her, ordering two strawberry milkshakes from the waitress who had met them at the table. The waitress scribbled their order down before turning on her heel towards the kitchen.

She was staring across the table at a spot stained with black marker. Bucky wasn’t one for vandalism, but there was something romantic about permanently branding their favorite booth.

The small heart with the date “06/15/1941” still looked as new as the night he wrote it. She had been giggling, looking over her shoulder nervously to see if anyone would notice. Bucky didn’t care. The diner was hopping; every seat was filled, and Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy was playing over the jukebox. “That’s pretty permanent,” she admonished with hints of a smirk playing on her pretty mouth, “Might last forever.” Bucky smiled, leaning over the table to place a kiss on her lips, “So will we.”

The trajectory of their relationship changed when he enlisted. He bought a ring a mere three months after their first date, and it still sat tucked in his sock drawer, waiting. He had considered popping the question before he shipped out, imagining how he’d beam with pride when the men in the 107th asked if he had a girl back home, and he’d tell them about her, his future wife. Bucky had known how much the threat of war frightened her, how she felt like time was a ticking bomb, waiting to explode. He just hadn’t expected it to threaten their future together.

Her father had been drafted into World War I in 1917. He was a hard-working, sturdy young man who left behind two small boys and a wife who would soon find out she was expecting. Seven months later, their only baby girl made her way into the world, and fifteen months later, her father tragically made his way out.

Bucky remembered the way she spoke of her mother, how strong she was to do it alone, how she had kept their father’s memory alive through the years. Her two older brothers had many stories of the man that she only knew as a photo on the mantle.

Bucky knew she was terrified that history would repeat itself.

“How have you been?” He asked, breaking a silence that wasn’t necessarily awkward but heavy.

She shook her head, “Please don’t ask me that. It sounds so insignificant when you think of everything that has happened over the last couple of years.”

Bucky chuckled and took a sip of his milkshake, “Well, you can see that I’m fine.”

“Physically, sure. But not all scars are visible.”

“No scars here, honey,” he shrugged, unable to stop himself. “Maybe one on my chest from where you ripped my heart out, but that’s nothing to write home about, I suppose.”

He watched as she opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again. Bucky pushed his glass to the side and leaned forward. The can of worms was opened, the elephant was in the room, and he had two years of pent-up heartache to share.

“I know why you did it, but I told you, I was going to do everything I could to come home to you.”

She opened her mouth again, but Bucky held up a hand.

“I know that I had no control over that, but at least then I would have gotten on that boat knowing that you were still mine. I felt like you didn’t trust me,” his voice crackled, and he cleared his throat. “You hurt me when I needed you the most.”

Her eyes were closed, and tears were sparkling behind her eyelashes. Her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath.

“Bucky, you have to believe me when I say that I thought I was doing what was best for us. I didn’t want you to worry about me when you had other things to worry about -“

“I was always going to worry about you! I was always going to think about you, I was always going to wish I was with you! Breaking things off wasn’t going to change that, it was just selfish,” Bucky interrupted, his words coming out sharper than intended. “I was going to ask you to marry me.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and he felt a sharp pang in his chest at the sight.

“I’m a coward,” she whispered. “I let my fear get the best of me, and that wasn’t fair to you. Seeing how much my mother was affected by my father’s death…all I ever wanted was to marry you and start a family, but - war destroys families, and I let that fear dictate my choices. But they shouldn’t have just been my choices. Every time you tried to fight it, I just kept pushing back. I shouldn’t have pushed back. I should’ve let you win.”

“I stopped fighting because I respect your wishes,” Bucky admitted. “It wasn’t about winning. I just love you too much.”

“I will spend the rest of my life trying to make things right between us,” she insisted. “Even if you never want to see me again, which I’d understand.” Her voice faltered like she didn’t truly mean it.

Bucky sighed and took a moment to drink his melting milkshake. She followed suit, and another silence took over.

He had no intention of cutting her out of his life. One day she would be amused to find out that it took everything in him to not grab her by the waist and kiss her as soon as he saw her walking down the sidewalk. While he hadn’t stopped longing for their reunion while he was away, he had inadvertently built walls that she would have to break through. Or maybe chip away at it, little by little.

Things between the two of them had never been slow. Bucky knew from the moment he met her that she was the one. He knew from the moment his lips met hers on the front porch that he was a goner. She was it. His body, his mind, and his heart were drawn to her and only her. Even now, after she had destroyed him and sent him overseas with a broken heart.

Bucky was ready to give her everything he had left, but he knew it would take time.

“Notice how I haven’t spoken about my love for you in the past tense? I am still so in love with you, it drives me crazy. The memories of you got me through some of my worst times. Things between us will get better, eventually,” he said finally. She just nodded and continued to sip at her milkshake.

“I am so sorry, Bucky,” she reached across the table, hesitantly grabbing his hand. He had to stop himself from reacting outwardly because it felt like fireworks were going off inside of his chest. He slowly wrapped his fingers around hers, feeling the leftover chill from her frosty glass. They sat like that for a moment, connected in the most basic way, but connected nonetheless. She gave his hand a light squeeze. “I’m…so, so happy that you’re home. I think I always knew in my heart that you would make it home. I was just… scared.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped a bit as the tension released, “I know. Me too.”

Things would be okay, someday.

He gently released her hand and pulled his wallet from his pocket. Bucky pulled out a few crinkled bills, tossed them on the table, and gave a silent nod of understanding to the waitress. He slid out of the booth and turned to her, his hand outstretched.

“Can I walk you home?”

[veethesnake]

I love both of these sketches but with uni stuff and zine work January 31 crept up on me and before I knew it the current Bingo round is almost over…

For the @cap-ironman Stony Bingo, squares “at warp speed” and “art format: redraw an old piece” (for which I chose my first Avengers Assemble work)!

I will hopefully finish these at some point, at the very least the one with Captain Americat and Iron Mouse. I can’t get over Steven’s zigzag tail. Somehow I surprise myself every time I draw this cat.

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[veryberryjelly]

i would stay forever

art donaldson x gn!reader

prompt ; 'wait, don't go, please'

[ please excuse the fact that i know nothing about tennis XD. also, my first attempt at any kind of smut !! ]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

you could feel arts frustration from your place in the crowd.

this had been the match he had been most anxious about. and as much as you had assured him he could kick cole friedman's ass on the court, it didnt take away from the fact that the guy was good.

and that much was proved by the score of today's match.

c. friedman - 4

a. donaldson - 2

you watched as your boyfriend stalked off the court, heading through the doors and back into the building.

manoeuvring out of the rows of chairs was difficult when everyone was taking advantage of the break between matches to get drinks and go to the bathroom.

in other circumstances you would've been with your boyfriend a lot quicker. you knew how in his head he got after he lost a match and you wanted to be there before he could get himself into too deep a spiral.

you managed to push your way through the crowd to get to the changing rooms where you swiftly pushed the door open, immediately met with groans of protest from the few other players that you completely ignored.

you spotted a familiar mop of strawberry blonde hair and your legs carried you towards it.

the closer you got, the more details of your boyfriend revealed themselves to you, and the more your heart broke for him.

he was bent over on the bench, his head in his hands, his shirt discarded beside him showing off the bruises he often got from practicing.

" oh, pretty boy " you muttered quietly, moving to kneel infront of him and get his focus on you and get him out of his head.

your hands rested on his knees and the contact seemed to be the thing to grab his attention and bring it to you.

a weak smile twitched at his lips and his arms dropped to rest his hands ontop of yours.

your hands turned to grasp his in yours and you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand.

" you did so good, baby. 'm so proud of you " your voice was quiet enough to keep this conversation between the two of you, but you made sure art could hear your voice.

you needed him to hear you over the voices in his head.

a soft nod of his head and a squeeze of your hand was enough for you.

" c'mon, i'll take you back to my place " you stood from the floor, your hands remaining clutched in art's grip.

when he tilted his head up to meet your gaze you could feel your heart breaking for the boy infront of you.

after a quick kiss pressed onto his forehead, you walked out of the changing room, giving him a couple of minutes to collect his things and change if he wanted to.

you leant against the wall just outside, ignoring the few glances you got from the guys walking out of the changing room who had seen you waltz straight in.

but you didnt care about them, you cared about the boy who came out and his arm went straight around your shoulders.

it was almost a reflex for your arms to wind around his torso, and the looks from the guys coming out of the changing room didnt cease.

" ugh, get a room " you heard from one of the players which usually would elicit a soft laugh from you, but today you just unwound one of your arms from your boyfriend and began leading him towards your building.

the walk was short but by the time you both arrived outside your door you could practically feel the exhaustion radiating off the boy beside you.

once the for was open you moved swiftly inside and art fell down ontop of your bed with a soft *thud*

you walked straight into your bathroom and knelt down to turn on the tub.

you could only imagine the amount of pain art was in right now, both physically and mentally. to your knowledge he hadn't slept in over two days and every spare minute had been spent on the courts, practising.

you knew he needed to relax, now more than ever.

after adding a soak to the water along with some salts you made your way back to your room to coax art into the bathroom.

at the sight of him already curled up on your bed ready to sleep you almost caved and let him stay there, but you knew he would thank you for making him get up.

you could let him lay there for a few minutes while the bath filled up.

and you spent those few minutes perched on the edge of your bed with your fingers running through the small knots in his hair enjoying the way his muscles seemed to relax at your touch.

getting him into the bathroom took a little bit of convincing, namely including bribery in the form of little spoon cuddles with a movie.

you pulled him through the bathroom door and reached down to pull his shirt up over his head.

this routine was both usual and unusual. after a loss art was usually a bit down, and he's both end up in the bath or shower at one of your places before just relaxing with you the rest of the afternoon.

but with the loss, ontop of how exhausted he was, you didnt mind doing that little bit extra.

you turned to drop his clothes into your laundry hamper while he climbed into the bath and when you turned back to face him he was coming up from the water after wetting his hair.

you couldnt resist leaving a kiss onto his forehead.

" i'm gonna go and get us some food, i'll be back in a little bit " you said quietly, moving to stand before you were stopped by a hand on your wrist.

" wait, don't go...please " his voice was quiet, but the raw edge on his voice pained you.

you didnt need to be asked twice as you knelt down beside the tub again.

" ok, i won't go " there wasn't a question about it. if he wanted you to stay, you would stay.

his head rested back against the wall behind the tub and his gaze was locked on you.

" will you get in here " it wasnt a question so much as a request.

but you recognised the look in his eyes. a tired need that often appeared in the dark of night along with a quiet whisper of ' just need to be close to you '

who were you to deny his gorgeous baby blue's.

you released his hand to strip yourself of your clothes and drop them onto the laundry hamper across the bathroom.

art offered his hand out to you to help you into the water and you sank down onto your knees, your arms looping to wrap around his neck.

you hovered slightly in the water while art lined himself up at your entrance.

once you felt the head of his cock pushing you open, you sank down onto his lap, shivering slightly at the whimper that escaped his lips.

his hands moved to rest on your hips as you both got used to the feeling of him being inside you.

you could tell when he was settled because his head dropped back against the wall and his arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your chest against his.

his nose nudges at the side of your neck and you tilted your head to the side to press a kiss onto his damp skin.

" 'm so proud of you, sweetheart. y' did so well. " a soft mewl interrupted you when you felt him twitch inside you.

" keep talking t'me, baby " he rasped in your ear, his fingers digging into your hips a little.

a soft smirk twitched at your lips. you knew his intentions had been pure, but your words seemed to have tripped something in his head.

" i know you're so tired, handsome. haven't slept in days. i just want to take care of you "

as you continued, you felt yourself slowly rising and falling on his length at a pace that caused the water around you to create small waves up the side of the porcelain.

his whimpers spurred you on.

" y'gonna let me take care of you, baby? want to shut your pretty brain off for a little while ? "

his answer was almost instant

" yes, please sugar " his voice was rough against your skin and you could feel the movement of his lips against your shoulder.

" ok, pretty boy. just relax f'me " you hummed in his ear, your lips moving to pepper kisses from his shoulder up to the spot behind his ear that you knew drove him crazy, all the while never ceasing the movement in your hips.

you could feel yourself getting worked up alongside the boy beneath you, but you tried to focus your mind elsewhere.

this was about art.

you recognised the slight tensing in his shoulders and the stiffening of his neck and your last few movements against his hips were a little more vigorous, to the point where a bit of water splashed over the edge of the tub.

but it was worth it to hear the groan that rumbled in your boyfriends chest and erupted from his mouth as he finished, a recognisable warmth spreading in your stomach.

your hips slowed to an eventual stop and you remained entwined in each others limbs for a few minutes.

eventually you pulled your head back to look at the boy in your arms.

his eyes were half closed, his hair sticking to his skin. he was truly a vision.

with a soft kiss to his lips, you made that reluctant move to ease yourself off of art and out of the tub all together. you wrapped yourself in your robe and pulled the spare one off of the back of your door that exclusively belonged to art.

somehow the boy climbing out of the tub now seemed to be even more exhausted than the one you had found in the changing room, and yet he looked better.

he looked...calmer. less plagued by worry as he took the robe from you and slid it onto his arms.

his arms wrapped around your waist and held you close to his chest.

" thanks, gorgeous " he whispered before pressing a kiss to your neck.

" y'don't have to thank me. go put some clothes on, there's some of yours in my top drawer " you turned in his grip, practically ushering him out of the room so he could change and you could pee and give your hair a quick brush.

when you emerged from the bathroom you found your boyfriend in a pair of boxers and one of your t-shirts. not one you'd taken from him, one of yours.

this must be how he felt to see you in his clothes. if it was you were never going to stop wearing his shirts.

he had pulled your laptop from your bag and opened it up to netflix, ready to argue with you for the next five minutes about a movie and then cave and let you watch whatever you had suggested first. after changing into one of his t-shirts and some underwear, you deposited the robes back in the bathroom and crawled into bed beside him, laying your head down on his chest when he guided you into his side.

" so, what're we watching ?"

———————-

y’all, let me know what you think. should i start writing more smut or cut my losses at this XD

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, Viv!

What about a reason why Bob was paired up with Nat in TGM? Perhaps, he and his original pilot fell for each other? And she can’t go due to Navy regulations.

OMG MY FIRST BOB REQUEST I'M SO HAPPY -- bc of my incredibly limited knowledge of Navy regulations I ever so slightly changed it (well, that and I want his babies)

You're not supposed to fuck your back seater. They were in Lemoore together. That was where they met. That was where they fell in love.

As much as she tried to resist, she couldn't stop herself from falling in love with him. Well, can you blame her? His was just so cute. Plus, he was crazy good at his job (why else do you think he got invited back to Top Gun?)

They spent an incredible amount of time together already. He didn't open up to her right away, but, once she got him talking, he never wanted to stop (and she never wanted him to stop).

For their first date, she was sick. Her head killed and the fever she had kept her in bed. So much for their plans for dinner.

Bob came to her house anyway. He made her dinner and make sure she had the right medicine. She didn't want to kiss him, but she couldn’t stop herself from cuddling up to his chest as they watched a movie.

Their second date was much more of a success. They actually managed to get outside of her house. She got to kiss him, actually kiss him.

By the third date, Bob had her in his bed, legs spread as he plowed into her. Neither of them knew that was the way the date was going. But, the way she touched him, she clearly wanted him. And he was happy to give it to her.

That was two years ago. Three months ago, Bob had gotten down onto one knee. They had star gazing dates, out in the garden, laying in the grass until they got too cold.

She'd let out an involuntary noise of complaint when he pulled his fingers out of hers. But then he pulled out the ring and slipped it onto her finger.

And then they were invited to Top Gun for the second time. The best pilot and back seater around.

She threw up the day after they had been told, when they were getting ready to leave. She assured Bob that she was fine, that she was just nervous.

But then she threw up again.

The third time, Bob got her a pregnancy test. A whole box full. Each one came back positive.

She wasn't happy about not going to Top Gun, about Bob flying with somebody else, but she had to get over it. Her fiance was doing important work and she couldn't hold him back.

She'd met Nat, though. Phoenix was lovely. The rest of the squad was lovely. Her Bobby was in good hands.

[rippersz]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

A Larissa Weems x F!Reader oneshot (for now) - Normie Reader experiences a very sudden heat for whatever reason and oh good lord Larissa is just so hot how can anyone expect you to work under these conditions… (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Shapeshifting Advantages, All that Jazz) (Larissa is just mentioned/imagined in this.) Am I sorry? Meh.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

There was just something in her that lit something in you.

A fire the likes of which you’d never encountered before. As though a flame was constantly flicked on beneath your heart, causing it to race, causing it to pound, causing it to bring the blood from your limbs up to your cheeks; painting you in a deep blush. Making you dizzy. Making you ache. Making you feel a type of delicious never-ending burn that seemed to spark the very moment you saw her.

Her.

Oh, her.

The same woman that made you realize that you wanted to become heavily acquainted with Lust and all of the friendly benefits it could offer. The very catalyst to your panic and your flush and the shake in your hands as you pressed yourself up against the wall of your shower and imagined it was her doing it instead. Oh how her hands would feel… how her touch would mold… how her teeth would graze and nibble and bite and gnash in ways that sent you spiraling. The muscles in her biceps flexing as she interlocked your hands and forced your arms up over your head, holding you to the chilled tile, making you shiver even if the water was hot.

It felt like the word ‘Please’ was on the very tip of your tongue whenever you passed her in the hall. ‘Please,’ you wanted to murmur to her one day, ‘Please, put me out of my misery and ruin me before I explode.’ Because that’s what it felt like, didn’t it? The strange pull in your bones, crawling up through your veins, invading your mind, it felt like you were being stretched taut and that no amount of self-assured pleasure could help release your tormented body. Explosion, at that point then, was imminent. And dangerous. You could barely concentrate on classes; you could barely pay attention to another person; you could barely think about anything other than her fingers… and her tongue… and those deep bottomless sapphire eyes - staring straight into your soul as you fell apart beneath her.

Some part of you told you that you were going through heat. That the very desperate natural human basic need for pleasure was just that - something a person experienced from time to time. Something that werewolves and cats and animals felt whenever that season came around. But you were a ‘normie’. You’d never felt that before… until Larissa Weems, of course. Until you sat down in a staff meeting one day and peered down at her painted nails and long tapered fingers and delicate hands, woven with blue veins and a wicked strength you’d never seen, and wondered what her index and middle finger would taste like when resting on your tongue. The thought still brought redness to your cheeks and drool to the inside of your mouth. It was just so terribly depraved. So desperate. So needy in a way that you wanted her to say- to tell you- to whisper in your ear while you whimpered into the warm skin of her shoulder.

‘Look at you… such a silly little thing… trembling all for me…’

All for you. All for her. All for Larissa, at all times, no matter what.

You knew that people were starting to worry about you and your actions - especially Larissa herself. She was your boss after all, she was supposed to pick up on any behavioral changes, and you had definitely changed. Without even knowing, you became far more introverted and spent more time alone than you ever had before. Though then again, most of that time was dedicated to taking care of the relentless throb between your thighs. Honestly, sometimes it got so strong that it interrupted your entire day and you had to find some way to ease the strange pangs before they got out of hand.

And you’d been doing a good job. Really, you had. You’d been taking the necessary moments to rid yourself of the feeling for at least a few hours before it came back - and that was enough. It was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it began to hurt.

Until you realized that yes, indeed, you were somehow going through heat - and there was no one there to help you with it.

–

‘Good morning Larissa,

I just wanted to email you with a quick update and say that I, unfortunately, have fallen quite ill. I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle my classes, and I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Knowing this would get worse, I already printed out lesson plans and activities for my students. They’re all on my desk in my classroom.

Thank you - hopefully I get over this soon.

Y/N’

A quick email. That was good. You didn’t specify timing but that was fine. Your ‘heat’, for lack of a better word, had already been happening for about three weeks. If you were correct in your research, it wouldn’t be too much longer - perhaps a week or so more. Though in the long run, it would be a bigger pain in the ass than you expected. Already, your room smelled of sex and was so stuffy that you had to keep a window open constantly. And to get rid of the scent, you resorted to wall plug-ins and incense; they were the best you could think of on the fly. The rest of the issue - such as the air being far too hot - could only be remedied with a lack of clothing and many cold showers.

You supposed that was the best blessing during your time of strife- having an ensuite all to yourself. Staff were given the option to live on campus or live near Jericho, but you decided that ease of access was more important than living utterly alone. And, another plus that allowed you to let out a sigh of relief from time to time, was the fact that the teacher’s wing was very far from the students’. So any of the werewolves that wandered the halls wouldn’t smell you - as long as you stayed in your room. Thus, the email. And the isolation. And the constant worry that often came as an after-thought during your moments of… reprieve.

Even then, you truly felt you were going mad.

Tears often leaked from the corners of your eyes at night when you twisted around in bed, trying (and failing) to keep your hands from wandering about your body. You’d never experienced the phrase ‘instinctive’ to such an extent until that span of time where your searching fingers tip-tapped their way down the soft skin of your rounded tummy and found themselves drawing circles around your clit without thinking. Because it was all done without thinking. Even thinking was done without thinking.

Most of the time, your head was filled with thoughts of your boss. It was always Larissa. It was always Larissa and it was always her tall figure dwarfing your own, pushing you into a state of submission that you wanted to fall into anyway. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard - she wouldn’t even have to bend you over her lap and spank you red unless you came without her permission and she wouldn’t even- she-

‘Y/N,

I’m very sorry to hear you’ve fallen ill; please don’t worry about your classes as I can provide a substitute immediately. That being said, take as much time as you need to recover. I’ll stop by later today to chat briefly about the form you can fill out for an extended absence. Thank you for letting me know and I sincerely hope you feel better soon.

Larissa W.’

The ping of the email distracted you for a moment.

Good- that was good- your classes would be covered and you were ‘off the hook’. Great. Take as much time as you need mhm mhm… blah blah blah… stop by later today… mh-

Wait.

Wait, what?

You blinked, stared down at the lit up screen of your phone, and then blinked again.

She was… stopping… by? Later? On that day? When the clench in your abdomen was so strong that you were descending into sniffling sobs every two seconds? On that day, when you had just reached the point in which your fingers- the four you managed to fit and utilize- no longer got rid of the ache? On that day, when you were cursing yourself for never buying a fucking sex toy just for the Hell of it?

In your defense, you didn’t think you were ever going to descend into a spontaneous excruciating heat at any point in your life- but it didn’t really matter anyway.

Because whether you liked it or not, Larissa Weems, your boss, the headmistress of the Nevermore Academy for Outcasts, the main event of your wet dreams and sexual fantasies was going to stop by your room for a ‘brief chat’... and you hadn’t been clothed for three days. And your legs were trembling all the time. And the insides of your soft thighs were coated in slick constantly. And your skin was always overheated and sensitive and your voice was hoarse due to the amount of muffled screaming you pressed into the fabric of your pillow and your bed was very much unmade and your room smelled like a 24 hour sex dungeon and the blush on your cheeks had only increased tenfold by the time you sat up in your unmade bed, winced, and let out a whine.

Oh why had the Gods cursed you so?

Why had they placed a hex on your little human body and filled it with a libido that could only match the ferocity of dragons? Why did they force a potion of lust down your throat and place you in front of Larissa Weems and make you look at her with eyes of dark desire? Why did they place the image of her sloping hips and long legs and thick thighs in your mind and poison you with dreams that followed you into the waking world?

Why did you want her so badly?

Why did you yearn for her touch and why did you want her smell enveloping your body and why- oh god why- did you want to kiss her so often? Why did you want her to take care of you? Why did you want her of all people! to take you to bed and make you see stars? Why did you want red lipstick covering your skin and why did you want your face between her thighs and why did you want to feel her come apart beneath you? Why did she drive you wild? Why did she force you into a state of fluster that you could only pull yourself out of when you were alone?

Why did she plague you?

“I can’t do this…,” you suddenly confessed to no one in particular as you let out a sigh.

The fire had dulled to a simmer long enough for you to stand and slowly make your way to the bathroom.

Pain experienced during heat, you came to find, was far different than any other pain. It was like you felt empty - utterly disgustingly empty - and your body hated that. It rebelled. It made your abdomen, your fucking womb, feel hot. And after the heat, it began to ache. Like you were sitting on the edge of an orgasm and you needed that extra push- that extra kiss- that extra lick of praise- to send you tipping off the edge into an ocean of bliss…. But you couldn’t have it. The push, the kiss, the praise wasn’t there. Nor was the thrust of strong hips, or the scratch of fingernails, or the hissed growl of dominance in your ear. None of it. And your body knew that, so it made you clench and unclench constantly; and it punished you for your negligence and made your clit extra sensitive and your nipples hard and eager to be teased and your skin- oh your poor skin- was practically begging for someone to touch it. To mark it. To hold it and squeeze it and bite it and make it theirs.

Make it hers.

Goodness, you were pathetic. The fog that fell over your mind whenever you thought of Larissa was so hypnotizing that once your thoughts got going, they couldn’t stop.

‘Think of her,’ the strange lustful monster within you hissed, ‘Think of her and all of the sinful things she could do to you. Think of her hands pulling your hair, think of her warm thighs straddling your waist, think of her tongue running itself along your neck… and down your chest… and lower and lower… lower… pooling with drool and letting it drip-drop onto your cunt… licking at your clit…’

A whimper slipped past your lips as soon as you stepped into the water of your shower.

The heat was both soothing and torturous, doing you no favors as it instantly glazed the top of your mind; normally you’d prefer to make it cold to put a damper on your libido, but the need to get off yet again overpowered any lingerings of common sense.

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no common sense during ‘heat’. At all. You figured that out rather quickly when, on the fourth day of wanting to be fucked mercilessly, you began entertaining thoughts of breeding. Of course you didn’t want a child. But the thought… the thought… of such warmth in you… filling what was always so painfully empty… of someone- of her- holding you down and breeding you full, growling that you were to be hers forever, was something that had you cumming in under five minutes. You simply couldn’t help it. And ever since that thought, it was as though you crossed into the dark side. All kinds of kinks and experiments filtered into your horny little brain, and all you could do to keep yourself from going crazy was to keep orgasming until your fingers could barely move.

It was the worst experience of your life…

…when you weren’t sitting on the built-in shower stool and thrusting three fingers into yourself, imagining Larissa watching you from beyond the glass. It was terrible except for when you pictured her telling you to go faster, to slow down, to take your fingers out completely and spread your folds wide so she could coo over how cute you looked when your cunt ached for her touch. It was maddening while you weren’t fantasizing about her stepping into the shower with you- all 6 feet, 3 inches of her- and threading her perfect hand in your hair and pressing you to her venus mound and making you kiss it until you came around your own fingers. Then making you stick your tongue out and look up at her as she slowly rolled her hips, coating you in a taste you knew you’d never ever get tired of.

Maybe even… oh god… maybe even shifting that part of herself and surprising you by sliding the head of her cock into your mouth and making you worship her until you forgot your own name. Running your eager tongue along the hot veins… peering up through your eyelashes as she slowly- slowly- craned her head back and let out a deep bone-shaking groan… Unable to help herself as she pushed you down just a bit more, slowly making that ‘pretty mouth of yours’ (as she called it) take as much of her as it could.

“There… yes, right there darling…” You could practically hear her words, as if she were with you, while your eyes rolled back and your other hand came up to rub furiously as your clit.

Unfortunately, even as you sat there and felt the prickling wave of heat wash over your body, clenching tightly around your own fingers while you orgasmed, you knew that it wouldn’t be enough. You knew that the water running down your face was mixed with frustrated tears. You knew that no climax you reached all by yourself would ever be able to properly satiate your body and every thing it was feeling. After all, a ‘normie’ was not supposed to experience ‘heat’ - and your mind was already so close to breaking all by itself.

It was just a shame that Larissa wasn’t there to snap it in half for you.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

This was just a quick exercise - I want to better my smut writing abilities. New updates soon and all that. Any thoughts on a Part 2? - Ripley x

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

[cialovesklopp]

prologue

❪ masterlist — ❫

summary — it's no secret anymore to anyone that follows f1 that mercedes is doing bad. something just isn't going the way it should. the silver arrows are going through a rough phase which leads toto to become a bit more creative about recrutement.

song — mercedes [ brent faiyaz ]

warnings — light mention of death and toxic environments

word counts — 5k

cia’s quick rambles — so sorry for the long wait, exams came up and i couldn't find enough time to edit this over. i'm so excited for this and hope i can make it justice to all the other good max stories.

— july 2023

there was always a certain sense of belonging that people attributed to specific persons or locations. often it was due to certain attachments and feelings people had grown for those persons or places that created this invisible bond. but it had never been like that for aaliyah. 

she failed to form connections, to embrace attachments to people or things. like a program glitch in a computer, she couldn't fulfill the command despite the correct codes. she never truly felt rooted in any place — she never belonged somewhere.

she was too smart to be here, to sit in a back with other people that attended this class of university. yet the fear of her own intellect hindered her from leaving it. going to university was like going to school again — one schedule and one job. nothing else to worry about for the moment. she was relieved of the concern for something else. 

going to university eased the pain of knowing that she felt like she would never belong somewhere. 

after her father died, all she had received for giving ao much love was rejection. as if an unspoken rule had been set up, that stated that aaliyah had been the cause for it. and it certainly screwed up the rest of the life she had lived till now. 

aaliyah had been destined to do great things — she remembered the way her middle school teachers told her that she would be the one to cure cancer. she had always been intelligent, not just smart — but terrifyingly intelligent. 

they would laugh if they saw her now and where she was. wasting her potential away at a simple university in munich. 

sometimes she looked out of the window and the resentment towards her family, especially her mother, burned hot in her stomach. getting lost in her thoughts meant her mind wandering off to far and opening boxes that were meant to stay closed. memories being replayed that contained secrets she wanted to take to her grave with her. 

she may be closed off towards others but it was an efficient way to live. to protect her heart from disappointment again. she did not have the space to let a lot of people in again. 

her heart had built a thick stone wall around itself after the accident. an accident, she would always blame herself for. everything was different from now: she was left with nothing but the void created by the loss of the only thing that held any meaning in her life.

now she felt like an empty shell of her former self, with no purpose or path to follow. the man who had said, a man with no purpose is no man knew what he was talking about. 

aaliyah was walking on an endless journey that seemed to have no finishing line, a particular hopelessness gripping her tighter with each step she took. and it felt like an invisible string was always pulling her back. 

tugging at her harshly till she fell back to where she started. it was a vicious circle, a haunting loop of pain — one that seemed to take no end. aaliyah was simply lost and no amount of therapy sessions could cure the inner pain she wandered around with. 

“just one more day,” aaliyah murmured to herself. it was her typical mantra she told herself everyday to calm herself down, to reassure her that she was not caught in her past life anymore. 

there were always the easier days and the harder days that needed assurance. days she passed on ease were often spent with eva. harder days however had her shivering in her bed, her entire body shaking and freezing. 

she sat down on her usual spot in her physics and thermodynamics that were part of her engineering degree, her mind shutting down again while her eyes travelled around the room. it felt good to be able to think of something else when your brain was working twenty-four seven. when thousands of thoughts travelled through her brain every second and seemed to over analyze every information too quickly. 

but something felt weirdly off today. the room was busy, full with more people than usual. this wasn’t a class for just anybody — people in here were ready to get their degrees in engineering. this class could compare to a harvard’s law class in terms of difficulty and intelligence. not everyone was able and allowed to take it and yet today the room was bustling with more people than usually. 

aaliyah noticed the long queue outside the door, filled plenty with faces that she had seen on campus but all unfamiliar to her. she was not one to usually look for socialisation when it wasn’t exactly necessary. in addition to that there was also a feeling of anticipation, lingering lightly in the air. she was curious what all the turmoil was about but at the same time, she was reminded of caution towards it. the less she knew, the less were the chances to be entangled in it. 

she smiled when her professor — who was her favorite — walked in and aaliyah instantly remarked that even he seemed excited about something. so she had definitely missed an important detail. but what exactly?

just like in every class, the professor began with reading out the attendance list, aaliyah lifting her hand to confirm her presence. she was surprised however when her professor then sent everyone else, that had not been named, out of the class. 

“everyone whose name i have not called for the attendance of my class may leave now. i’m sure you all have your classes where you’re supposed to be today,” said her professor loudly, so that even in the back it was clear who was welcomed and who was not. aaliyah turned around and was surprised by the large number of men who all walked out disappointedly.

the rest exchanged excited whispers, all giddy about something but she couldn’t care less. it wasn’t like she had any friends in her class anyway. she wasn’t the only girl that took this class but she was one of the few that seemed to excel in it. and for some universal reason, women found it easier to be jealous than to work together. 

their class started just like always, with one of them presenting their work about the mechanical piece they had been assigned to design as homework. the professor went on with his class, and aaliyah felt herself drifting off, her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with every minute that passed. another impact of her insomnia that plagued her in the night. even running on several cups of coffee wasn’t doing it for her anymore, so that she resorted to sugar to stay awake. 

she flinched, jolting awake when there was a knock on their door. she watched the way her professor’s lips turned upwards, forming into a smirk as he turned towards the door. “come in,” he said and in walked a man, tall and formally dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. he oozed a certain air of authority that had everyone quieten. 

the atmosphere in the room changed instantly, aaliyah noticing her seat neighbour’s eyes widening but all she could observe was that he definitely did not belong here. he was definitely overdressed in comparison to her loose grey sweatpants that she had matched with a sweater that had yale university printed on. the irony of it. 

her professor greeted the man like an old friend, making it clear to aaliyah that the two knew each other and it wasn’t a mandatory visit like the others they had gotten. however to her she did not know of his significance, completely left in the dark. 

“so for today we have a special guest some of you may already know,” he interrupted them from their work, everyone stopping what they were currently doing to listen to him. “he is an old friend of mine and owed me a favor. but i’m going to let him present himself.” 

the instant the guest began to speak, aaliyah could immediately make his austrian accent out. she was sure to have seen the man somewhere before but her brain, that was usually running at one-eighty, was failing her tragically. 

“some of you may know me from racing, others just from motosport — but for the rest who do not: i am toto wolff and i’m the team chef of the mercedes-amg formula one team as well as the ceo of mercedes-benz motorsport.”

— so apparently, they had a celebrity in the room with them. explains the queue outside, aaliyah thought to herself. 

“for those who do not follow motorsport as much: formula one is the elite of what concerns motosport. it’s the best against the best that compete there and the world of f1 is constantly changing due to this. as eighth time constructor’s champions we know that and what is expected of us. but for you, who are the future of engineering, i think it’s important that you get a realistic insight into what that actually contains.”

aaliyah now understood what all the turmoil really was about. they didn’t just have anybody in front of them — they were speaking to engineering royalty. not in the sense of wolff actually working in engineering but he was the reason the best worked with the best. because they absolutely needed to excel. 

standing in front of them with their professor sitting down at his desk, he began to speak and tell them about the world of motorsport and the constant changing requirements they had to adapt to. he instantly had all of them hanging onto every of his words, captivating them with the way he spoke about the subject.

the main point of his entire talk was of course mercedes amg and its evolution; however he also highlighted the complexity of the entire motorsport business and how the industry actually worked. something that reality was hiding from them. it was a big field that covered all kinds of sections. aaliyah listened closely even though she didn’t see herself ever working in that kind of environment. 

who would even hire her?

when the talk ended and students were allowed to ask questions, she found herself drifting off again and started to sketch mindlessly into her college block. it wasn’t that she shied away or conceived her fellow students as annoying; she just found socialisation exhausting and it wasn’t like they were going out of her way to speak with her. 

her existence was only acknowledged by them when they required something from her, leaving her to always sit all alone in her row. her presence faded there into the loneliness and solitude she felt comfortable with. now she wouldn’t want to change it anymore. 

after the whole questioning round, toto challenged the class to design a specific piece for a car to apply what they had learned the entire semester long. something that aaliyah was able to do in her sleep now. it was one of the rare occasions where she liked to let her brain run crazy to overanalyze every detail. to say that aaliyah was a perfectionist would be a clear understatement. 

it was the curse of a mind that raced ahead of the rest, interpreting sometimes more than what was needed and leaving behind a lonely trail that she herself couldn’t always understand. 

it was no surprise to her that she finished her sketch earlier than the others. however instead of just leaving it like that and calling toto over to see if she had gotten it right — which she had of course — she continued to develop her idea, letting her mind do its own work. 

it wasn’t really refining that aaliyah was doing. the perfectionist in herself would call it stepping outside of comfort zones — and as long as it worked, no one cared anymore that there had been one. it was something her mother had taught her.

gloria, aaliyah’s mother was no saint. and she had enforced the lifestyle to aaliyah of finding loopholes in the system whenever she could. last time aaliyah had spoken to her had been two years ago, shortly before the accident. 

possessing the knowledge that her own mother did not come by to see how her daughter was doing who was fighting between life or death — that had done it for aaliyah. cutting her mother off had probably been one of the easiest and yet also things she had accomplished. it wasn’t exactly a secret but it also wasn’t something she just shared with anyone in order to let the deep-etched wound in her heart heal. 

the whole trauma-dumping aspect and all that.

caught up in her mind, aaliyah didn’t notice toto going around and looking at what the students had produced. his eyes stopped once they fell on aaliyah’s drawing and a slight look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw her drawing.

it was more like the astonishment and impression that appeared on his face when his eyes caught her sketch — he had given the same task to all the classes, especially those at harvard, and while they had all completed the task no one had ever thought further than the solution. 

just like math they had solved the equation; found the x and that was it. they did not think about the correlation in which the answer might be related with the task or how they could give it more depth.

toto walked back down to the front where the professor sat and pointed discreetly at aaliyah who still seemed caught up in her thoughts. 

“who is she?”

a mishevous twinkle lit up in the professor’s eyes. “ahh, that would be one of my students,” he retorted playfully. 

“i’m serious.” he replied with a dry chuckle.

the professor looked at aaliyah, studying her in an interesting way, trying to take her all in again. “the student you’re so interested in is aaliyah prince. she’s one of my top student.”

toto nodded, his brain processing the information. “she’s smart. you’re teaching them well.” 

“i can assure you she’s more than smart. it’s all her brain.” he had seen where toto wanted to go. one did not have to be an idiot or live behind the moon to know that mercedes was doing badly at the moment. 

and he would be lying if he denied his soft spot he had grown for the black student. especially after find out out what she had all gone through. 

the professor stood up, leaving toto with a perplexed expression. he cut the working phase in order for them to compare their results. aaliyah looked up and secretly took her airpods out to listen what they had to say.

she did not need any confirmation to know that her exercise was done correctly — it wasn’t really to sound (überheblich) but she had designed the same thing a hundred times before for exam preparation. so she only listened half-mindedly to what the others had to present. who were trying their best to impress the f1 team chef.

a small smile made its way onto her lips when she saw the message her best friend had sent her. with eva studying psychology and ethics, she often had more time than aaliyah and usually finished class earlier than her. and the two girls had started the habit to always get lunch together when possible — it was often the one thing aaliyah looked most forward to during the day. 

class finally ended and she was one of the first persons to pack her things together and leave however her professor had other plans. 

“frau prince, könnte ich kurz mit ihnen sprechen?” he asked her and aaliyah slowly trodded back into the room. she suppressed the growl her stomach let out and waited patiently for what her professor had to say. — could i speak to you quickly

her professor pointed to toto, who was still mustering her with a skeptical yet curious glance. “he is the one who would like to talk to you.”

“me?” she asked perplexed.

toto nodded. “your drawing was very impressive. you thought ahead of the task and developed it to make it more than just a simple design. that’s exactly what we need.”

“for what?”

“a job,” toto replied in a short way. “we need someone like you and you do seem to fill out all the requirements.”

aaliyah looked at him confusingly. “excuse me sir, i don’t want to be rude but do you usually give out jobs to students after giving a lecture?”

toto let out a small-wholehearted laugh. “no, i actually do not. you’re a special case i guess.”

was zum himmelswillen, aaliyah thought in her mind as she looked at the man in front of her. and people told her she was crazy sometimes. 

she pinched herself, just to make sure that she was not dreaming this and still in class and stared at toto with wide eyes. she was no one special, she did not come from huge money and she had a huge past that she would prefer if it stayed hidden. 

aaliyah couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. all roads led back here anyway. 

“and this job… where and what would it be?” she inquired carefully. 

“i want you to become your new chief technical engineer. well not officially but i want you to fill someone’s position while they’re on personal vacation.”

her professor smirked at her whereas aaliyah’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“i thought you needed the best of the best? i’m sure there are thousands of people who probably meet the requirements you have and have the actual experience. i know nothing about formula 1 and racing cars.”

“maybe but i think a fresh pair of eyes would do us some good. and i’ve been told you have a degree in physics which is incredible at her age.” he reached for his bag and pulled out a small green card. “think about it and then give me a call.”

“why me? if it’s because of the task, everyone finished it and got it correct.”

“but they didn’t think further than the basic task which you did. you thought ahead, developed your starting idea and that’s exactly what we need right now. innovation. someone to think outside of the box.”

he bid goodbye to her professor, waved one last time to aaliyah with a small smile and then left the room. her eyes did not leave the door, even after he had left the room as she stared into the distance. she had already forgotten eva and their planned lunch date. 

she looked at the card in front of her and turned it around to inspect it more. it was probably the weirdest thing to have happened to her in the past two years. 

the thought of leaving, as nice as it sounded, also terrified her deeply. petrified her mind when she wondered whether she could. she had rebuilt a life here, created a new identity that was not instantly connected with the pain and trauma she had to go through. 

she wasn’t aaliyah, the stupid girl from back home anymore. who had mistaken attachment for love and fallen deeply into a trap that could be described as the demise of her life. the peripety if her life story was ever made into a movie. 

“i can see the wheels turning in your head from here,” her professor tore her out of her thoughts and aaliyah turned. 

she let out a small chuckle, staring at the card in front of her. “this is probably the weirdest thing that has happened to me since i started here.”

“could also be seen as the best thing,” her professor replied. 

“i don’t know how smart it is to start something else when i haven’t finished this. finished here.”

“aaliyah, you’ve always dreamed of doing this, getting out of here. and somebody just handed you your way out of here on a golden plate.”

aaliyah put the card into her bag. “not everything that shines is usually gold. this could hurt me in many ways if it backfires. and what about my degree?”

her professor waved dismissively. “i’ll simply write this down as a project. we’ll admit it as your fourth semester internship that you would have to do anyway.” 

it seemed easy, way too easy for aaliyah. it couldn’t be as simple as this. 

she grabbed her bag and was about to walk away when her professor called her back again. 

“aaliyah, please think about this. i know you probably think you do not deserve this but you do. let some happiness into your life again.”

“i’ll think about it.”

she nodded and exited the class. at least this time she would have something to tell eva in her class. she would rather drink acid than listen eva rant about her crazy sex escapades from last night.

the two girls were sitting on aaliyah’s bed in her bedroom, adorned with the soft rays of light as it took its descent and a bottle of wine between them with two glasses in front. they were sipping on the bordeaux liquid while she recounted what had happened to her today, the wine making aaliyah pour all her feelings out. 

the blonde sat across from her, listening patiently as she tried to console the black woman. too often the two found each other in this position, with eva either bringing the best wine or the cheapest vodka she could find. 

aaliyah always found a certain sort of solace and calm within her best friend. the two had met at a stupid frat party aaliyah had been forced to go by her roommate and had been inseparable since then. and over that time, eva had stayed by her side when she had gone through the endless trauma of her mother and had helped her get out of her toxic environment. 

they were connected through more than friendship at this point with the amount of shit the two had already gone through. 

“i have no idea what i’m going to do,” she sighed, swinging her glass absentmindedly. “it’s a good job offer — like i  want to do this but i can’t leave everything just here.”

“girl, the only thing i see is you sabotaging yourself again. i mean, what are you leaving here? your annoying class of misogynistic assholes? that sorry excuse of a woman that calls yourself your mother? i’m sorry honey but the only thing you would be leaving behind is me and i can take the family jet anytime if i wanna visit you.”

aaliyah threw a pillow at her best friend. “hey, they’re not all bad. we are five girls in my class.”

“and four of them choose to be jealous, racist bitches towards you,” eva replied sassily. “look, i get it. change can be scary as fuck and speaking as a philo-major, we humans don’t like stepping out of our comfort zones. but staying won’t make you any happier.”

she chewed on her bottom lip, taking in eva’s advise. “but you know how much they sacrificed for me, to come here and start over. how much it meant to him for me to do this.”

eva threw her arm around aaliyah, pulling her back  with the sudden force and making her nearly lose her drop her glass. "oh love, i can assure you the last your father probably wanted was for you to stick and waste your entire potential here. clinging to familiarity is never going to change things and it’s not gonna be the salvation you’re seeking so much.”

deep down aaliyah knew that eva was spot on with her analysis of her. but behind the truth hid so much more. aaliyah wasn’t looking for happiness and forgiveness anymore, she had accepted that she could never deserve his pardon. she had tried to forgive herself, to move on but she always stayed in the same spot. the huge amount of guilt that paralyzed her from moving on would never allow her to thrive and live. because she was the reason someone else couldn’t. 

and that person deserved it so much more than she did. 

eva grabbed aaliyah’s hand. “i don’t want you to stay here because i know you’re not happy. this entire city will always remind you of them. and you’ll never get over it if you stay here. you deserve to thrive and let’s be honest, that’s not gonna happen here.”

“but even if — this job is just a lot. working there would mean constantly traveling and not settling down.”

“wasn’t it your dream to travel the world just like your dad? taking this job would make it ten times easier. it’s practically your ticket to do this.”

“so you really think i should take this leap?”

eva snorted. “i would be lying to you if i said i want this completely because you’re my best friend and i hate you leaving. but for you, yes. take this job and be happy. it’s not only what your dad would have wanted for you — micah would have wished for you to do the same.”

she nodded, disregarding the pang in her heart at the sound of his name. her presence here, away from the turmoil she'd created, stemmed from the cascade of events that led to his demise. a single misstep initiated the unraveling, each consequence toppling like dominoes until the crash. it all lead back to her.

when the last drops of bordeaux had been consumed by the two students, the blonde stood up and bid her goodbyes to aaliyah, announcing that she had an early morning tomorrow. eva hugged her once more and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek — a habit they had developed. 

“please promise me that you’ll think about it,” eva had murmured into her ear and aaliyah had nodded, which seemed enough to satisfy her. her best friend had left then and she found herself all alone again. 

taking this job seemed to be so easy, everyone she had talked to seemed to push her towards it. but it was almost too easy which frightened aaliyah so much. 

she was qualified enough for the job in terms of intelligence. the job was not completely out of world for her but she could not imagine herself leaving. her mind had twisted everything to the beautiful life she lived in that in the end was just an illusion -- but an illusion so ideal and perfect that she didn’t want to leave it. 

it was like knowing that one was wearing rose-colored glasses and deliberately leaving them on, with no regard for all the consequences it could cost. 

taking this job was a risk for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right, micah would have wanted this for her. and she owed it to him to at least try. no matter how big the impact of her fall would be. it was the least she could honor him with after destroying everything. 

accepting this position posed a gamble for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right. micah would've wanted this for her. she felt indebted to him, compelled to make the attempt, regardless of how big her potential downfall could be. it seemed the minimum homage she could offer after dismantling everything.

it was way past eleven when aaliyah grabbed the card toto had given her earlier and her phone and tipped in his number. she was anxiously tipping her foot as she waited for the caller to take the call and was surprised when it only had to ring three times. 

it was now or never. 

“hello?” a hoarse voice asked on the telephone and aaliyah innerly groaned. people were sleeping at this hour, of course it was the wrong timing. 

“this is aaliyah, the girl you offered a job today sir,” she said nervously. 

toto gave a small laugh. “yeah, i remember and you really don’t have to call me sir.”

she nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “okay, understood. i just -- well, i wanted to inform you that i’m taking it. the job as interim chief technical engineer.”

“i’m very happy to know that you’re accepting my offer.”

there was no going back now, aaliyah realized. she had taken the first step towards a vast mountain that had no way to return back. there was only one path and she had just sealed her fate by taking it. 

“yeah, i just hope i won’t regret it.”

“i have no doubts that you’re going to excel. but remember: formula one is ruthless and you’re competing with the best now.”

if she had known before, how far people were willing to go to win, she definitely wouldn't have taken the position.

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER TWO - an interrogation

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREV CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

"You've got the wrong person."

"I can assure you we don't."

"Then what the fuck did I do?"

Price sits back in his chair with his arms crossed, staring out the one-sided mirror that separates him from the interrogation taking place.  The room is dark save for the mirror, the laptop in front of him, and the red-yellow embers of his third cigar in the span of an hour.  He fidgets uselessly with it, rolling the paper between the fingers in his right hand while the other clutches a pair of dog tags.  The metal feels twice as cold in his palm as he listens to the two people in the room in front of him.

Laswell looks tired—typically perfect hair beginning to fall from her bun and the bags under her eyes deeper than usual.  He doesn’t doubt he looks the same, if not worse.  Despite the majority of the day dead and gone, the only thing they have to show for the amount of time spent in this room is a quickly filling tray of cigarette ashes and a messy desk of conflicting files, open laptops, and empty mugs of both tea and coffee.

"Nothing.  We just have some questions regarding your birth family."

You chuckle bitterly, your voice strained from the day's events even through the intercom.  "You had me kidnapped and nearly killed for a couple of questions?"  

Laswell's mouth opens and then snaps shut again. 

Price flips the dog tags through his fingers like the world’s most unlucky coin.

"This isn't an interrogation,"  she eventually responds.  "We’re trying to help you.”

“Then why am I in an interrogation room?”

He thinks its hard to find anything surprising, nowadays.  Price thought he saw pretty much everything there was to see already.  He’s traveled the world, faced every obstacle with bared teeth and clenched fists.  He’s seen death in all its forms, he’s seen someone come back from death—and yet, this was a new problem.  One he hadn’t encountered before.  A mission he, for once, didn’t know how to approach. 

He sighs, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees as he watches Laswell shuffle through papers.  This is usually what the chief specialized in—getting intel—but it appears even she's left flustered and clueless with how to handle the iron will of a shell-shocked teenager.

You’re sitting in a similar position as Price himself as you sit across from Laswell; a too-big S.A.S. sweater on your shoulders paired with sweatpants of a similar fit, your previous clothes ruined with blood.  Eyes downcast, hands clasped and shaking; Price can’t imagine the things running through your head.  He felt even worse that they didn’t have spare shoes, leaving you in your untied sneakers stained red-brown with the blood from earlier that day.  

You’re lost in thought.  You try to focus on what Laswell says, but her questions seem to go in one ear and then back out the other if you don't snap with a sarcastic comeback.  Laswell swallows heavily, much more used to this routine involving adults with war crime lists as long as the very building is tall.  She’s being gentle—well, as gentle as she can manage given your sharp tongue—but you haven’t given them any answers since you showed up.

You're scared.  You want answers.  Anyone in your situation would be the same.

So, after a few more minutes of talking and getting nowhere, Laswell stands.  She spares you one last, sympathetic look before crossing the room to the door—where she leaves the room in favor of the small office Price resides in.  A long breath leaves her as she stops at the table, lifting her arms and then letting them fall back to her sides in defeat.

“Nothing,”  she breathes.

Price nods.  He takes another drag of his cigar and exhales the smoke in a heavy sigh.

“Figures,”  he says, leaning over to snuff the embers out in the dish.  “Simon scared ‘em shitless.”

Laswell scoffs.  Shaking her head, she drops the file on the desk with a slap before sitting down herself—rubbing her tired face.  Her gaze falls to you sitting alone in the room, her brow furrowed tight.  In all his years of working with her, Price doubts he’s seen someone get under her skin like this in a long time.  

“We can’t wait for answers—not with the news spreading like this.”

He hums.  “You’re right.  We can’t.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”  She asks, genuinely.  “Because this isn’t working.  The kid's not talking until we tell them what's going on."

Price is silent for a moment.  None of the team had expected anyone else to catch wind of your location so quickly—nor had they expected such an organization like the Shadow Company to get involved.  What was supposed to be a silent search-and-rescue mission turned into something more of an ambush.  Something Price knows Graves will eventually seek repercussions for.

He feels his stomach twist from the thought, but he shakes it from his head.  Right now, proving to you that you weren’t in any danger was his priority.  The sooner you felt safe, the sooner you would answer questions—the sooner Price could formulate some semblance of a plan going forwards.

He pushes himself to his feet.  “Then we'll just have to give 'em what they want."

Laswell sighs, “John—”

“We owe the kid answers, Kate,”  He insists.  "We have for a long time.  Far too long."

“And if Graves or someone worse gets to them?  What happens then…when they give up intel?”  Laswell argues.   “We’ll just have to keep them until they’re ready to give up answers.  It’s the only way to make sure we don’t get compromised if shit hits the fan again.”

Price’s brow furrows.  He looks back out into the interrogation room for a moment, at how you stare down at the table wiping your bruised face on your sleeves.  Laswell is right, of course—she usually is.  If you gave up sensitive information to save your own skin after everything you’ve been through, nobody would blame you.  It could ruin everything, and it would be his fault, but that’s a risk he’s willing to take.  

He turns to Laswell again, his voice low as he steps closer. Palms flat on the desk, he leans down to her level.  “Then we’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah?”

Laswell just stares at him for a second, her gaze hard in calm resolve.  She seems to consider his preposition, carefully weighing the pros and cons as she searches Price’s gaze for any hint of self-doubt.  As usual, she finds none.

She sighs again, shakes her head, and reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the table.

"Fifteen minutes, Captain."  She says, resolute, as she lights a cigarette between her teeth.  "That's all you get."

Fifteen minutes.  He’s saved lives with less, but yet he still finds himself taking a nervous breath as he grasps the doorknob anyway.  Up until this point he hasn't officially met you.  In a perfect world, he probably never would have needed to.

He swallows the lump in his throat and opens the door.

Immediately, your eyes dart up to meet his.  Your expression is a tangled mess of things.  Fear, maybe.  Anger, definitely.  There’s sadness and anxiety in there, too, as Price meets your gaze for a moment before padding inside.  He makes a point to leave the door open behind him as he walks forwards, pulls the chair out, and sits down with his hands on the table.  Your legs are pulled up to your chest now; arms hugging your knees as you stare up at him—defensive.

Like you're a cornered animal ready to bite.  

You are, but that's besides the point.

He regards you for a moment, attempting to look past how you have your father’s eyes—bright and focussed and unrelenting underneath the deep, puffy bruise on your left eyelid.  The wound looks old, at least by a few hours, so he knows it wasn’t caused by any of his men.  Even the Shadows wouldn’t swoop so low as to hurt you without reason.

"Nice eye,"  is all he says.

Immediately, you look away, suddenly self-conscious as you wipe at the aching, bruised flesh.  It hurts, that’s for sure, but you do a good job at hiding it.

"The other guy looked worse,"  you lie.

"A soldier?"

"No…"  you clear your throat and shift, your shoulders easing just a little from exhaustion.  "No.  Some kid.  Long story.”

"Ah,"  he chuckles a little, as if you aren't sitting across from him with your hands still stained in some dead guy's blood.  "Somehow, I don't doubt that."

"Who are you?"

Hm.  The dreaded question.  For a second, Price debates how much he should tell you—and he knows Laswell is holding her breath hoping he'll hold his tongue, but you deserve answers.  It's the least he could do.

The dog tags feel like they were burning a hole in his pocket.

"Captain John Price.  British Special Air Service."  He answers through a sigh as he sits back in his chair.  "But you can just call me Price."

That furrow in your brow loosens just a little.  Slowly, you remove your arms from around yourself, letting your shoes hit the linoleum flooring.  Maybe you recognized his name somehow, or maybe you’re just relieved to be talked to like a human and not a cornered animal—but you’re more relaxed than you have been that whole day.

"And the woman?"  You press.

"A friend,"  Price answers honestly.  "She helped us find you.  You can trust her, too."

"And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

Price hesitates at that, glancing towards the one-sided mirror where he can feel Laswell watching.  Then, he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out the dogtags.  He tosses them over and they slide across the metal table before landing in your hands.  You turn the metal chips over in your palm, tracing the enamel with shaky hands.  When you look back up at Price, it's in disbelief.

They're your father's.

"To make a very long story short: over a year ago he had a mission,"  Price begins.  "Your old man was tasked with disarming a missile.  He succeeded, changed the code...and died before he could deliver it.  As of a month ago, it's been missing.”

It's a grossly summarized version of what happened over the course of the past year and a half, but Price figures he’ll spare you the details.  Details like how your father was tortured for months before he was finally killed while escaping.  Details like while he was stuck in enemy territory—you were all he would write about.  Your interests.  Your face.  Your words.

You're silent for a moment, squeezing the cold metal in your palms.  When you speak, it's quiet.

"That's a lie," you argue.  "Dad died when I was five. In Mexico."

Price nods.

“Maybe,” he says quietly.  “But, like his kid—he wouldn’t go down easy.”

You let out a breath, sitting back against the chair as you digest the information handed to you.  He watches dots string together in your mind as you mull over your whole life up until that very moment.  He knows what you’re thinking of already; not because he ever met the man personally, but because with the past few months he spent reading and rereading every letter, email, and assignment report—he feels like he did.  He knows you’re rethinking every letter your father sent you right up until his supposed “death" and every call promising his return soon.

He knows it’s a lot to take in, and that aching guilt in his chest rears its ugly head.  He wished he could do more—apologize on behalf of your father, reassure you things would be fine, take you back to your home…but, alas, all of those things were impossible.  So, instead, he’d answer whatever question you asked.

Because that was all he could do.

Almost a full minute passes before you speak again, quietly.  "And why, exactly, am I so important?"

"Because your father kept a journal,”  he answers promptly.  “In that journal, he said you knew the code.”

You laugh bitterly.  “It’s not like he was around to tell me—I don’t know shit.”

“I figured,”  he sighs, nodding.  “So, until we figure things out…you’re sticking with me and my men."

You bristle again, shoulders tensing.  "I never agreed to that."

"I never gave you the choice,"  John hardens his tone, not leaving any room for argument.  "It's what your father would've wanted.  Those were his last orders."

At that, you fall quiet; your face scrunched with frustrated anger and unshed tears as you look away to steel yourself.  John sighs and softens again.

"You’ll have a temporary room for the next few days.  Then, Friday; you, me, and my team are moving to a different base to plan and gather intel.  Everyone here answers to me, and if any of ‘em give you trouble—I’m never far away.”

He leans in close.

"I'm sorry, kid.  Really," he says, "but you can't go home."

Finally, you nod in understanding, your gaze falling to the table.  Lost in thought again, another long moment passes.  He watches as you look down at the dog tags before, hesitantly, lifting them up and over your neck.  They fall to rest at your chest as you clasp them before looking up at Price.  You won’t ask the question—won’t admit what you’re thinking—but he meets your gaze with calm resolve as he speaks again.

"You'll be safe here," he says. “Alright?”

You purse your lips, thinking.  John almost holds his breath, waiting for your response.  Conflicting emotions swim in your eyes as you squeeze the metal on your neck. 

He pretends not to notice the tears pricking your eyes as you swallow heavily and nod.

“Yeah…yes,”  you choke out.  “Not like I have anywhere to go, anyway."

After that, things go smoother.  There were supposed to be more tests—more questioning, interviewing, and other supposedly mandatory things that would get everyone nowhere.  Instead, Price decides to bypass all of it with Laswell’s permission.  The walk to your room is silent, and he assures you, again, that nothing will happen to you here.  He apologizes profusely, but he’s not sure you truly hear any of it—simply nodding and thanking him before the door is shut, and the halls are quiet.

Only then does he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, slipping his hat off to run his hand back through his hair.  There’s paperwork he has to do, a briefing to attend to, and he still has yet to touch base with Soap and Ghost about what exactly happened earlier that day.  Despite it all, though—he feels somehow lighter.  Months of tracking down your father’s only family coming to a close now that you were found and safe.  Or, maybe, it was just because the dog tags were weighing him down.

Nevertheless, he barely spares himself a moment to recollect before his hat is placed back on his head, his expression is hardened again, and he finds himself walking back down the hallway—already itching for another cigar.

It was going to be a long fucking week.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai

[anlian-aishang]

Kinktober Day 10: Virgin!Levi & Handjob

Tags: virgin!levi x reader, smut, handjob, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2200

Levi’s life had been an endless test: pain after pain, loss after loss. Through those experiences, he had built a strong armor, so strong that it hurt him to wear - staving all aid off by scaring others away. Flat expression, crossed arms - surely, he didn’t need any help. The introvert with a sharp tongue - he didn’t want any. You were the first to see through that daunting definition, unthwarted by the curse words and stern tone, but paying mind to the meals eaten alone, the nights spent wandering the halls, reading to himself in an empty library - all distractions from his past, silent screams for help. 

Having lost nearly everyone else, you longed to be his first provision, to be the first thing that went right in his life, to be his first in every sense. The first to ask can I sit with you? The first to offer chamomile for his insomniac bouts. The first to join him, even if at a distance, in the study. Others looked upon you with awe as you repeatedly approached the stoic captain, but what they could not see were his responses: faint blushes and diluted smiles that would have disintegrated their fears, that invited you for more. Tea times in the midnight cafeteria, walks to the farmers’ market, and eventually to his quarters - where things had gradually led to another - finally, to his bed. 

Levi sat with his legs over the side of it. Toes curled, you noticed how his feet failed to reach the ground. Hands bunched in themselves, fists white-knuckled. He was near still, but with the lens you had developed, you noticed his tiny twitches, fighting off round after round of shivers. 

At his sight, you bit back a smile - overwhelmed with pride for having come this far, having accomplished what all others thought impossible. Approaching him, you took a deliberate and audible breath, communicating your care. He was not the only nervous one in the room, but at the same time, he had nothing to worry about. Your hand on his shoulder, slow but sturdy, was further proof. “Don’t worry, baby. I promise to be good to you,” was what convinced him.

Levi closed his eyes and sighed: you were right. In recollection, he could hear the softness of your voice, could not recall an instance in which you raised it. Your slow had brought calm to his perpetual storm, encouraging him to still, assuring it was safe to do so. All the hours of sleep you had sacrificed for that much more time with him, the insomniac knew how valuable that rest was. You had chosen him every time, prioritized him every time. Even with his greatest vulnerability in your hands, his assessment remained solid as ever: not only was there no reason to believe you would hurt him, he knew you wouldn’t.

Through black bangs, steel eyes gazed up to you with willing and longing. You traced your finger up his chest, clavicle, over the lump in his throat, until you cinched his chin. Gently, you pulled his lips to yours, and at last, he was alive. In your kiss, he whimpered slightly even as his teeth took hold of your lip. Mentally, he was aware. His physicality was more hesitant, though. A man of absolute control, this was his first time giving it up. With the amount he retained, he used it to persuade himself: he was safe with you. 

His hand rose to the back of your neck and clutched you closer, sinking you deeper, craving more of your taste. Tilting his head, he welcomed you to explore him further, into milestones he had never traversed. Your touch crawled over his shoulders and bunched fists in his shirt, lifting the garment over his head and tossing it to the floor. The neat freak widened his eyes, but you reeled him back in your hold. Eyes on me. Wrists crossed at his nape, fingers snuck into his undercut and twirled flirtatious strands. Those tangles brought pricks of pain, but he could only think of how good this felt. 

Pressing your forehead to his, you broke from the kiss and shared the air between. His breaths were light and arid, opposite to the deep flush of his skin. Lips quivered in your departure, especially red after your contact, they managed just a whisper, “I’m ready.”

// // //

You had held him before, his secrets always kept. Now, he was handing you his biggest one: all of him in your arms. 

Your back to his headboard, his bare back to your naked chest. Your legs matched parallel to his, sprawled apart on his mattress. This position was even better than you imagined. How his neck landed beside your lips - his ear in nibbling distance. Heaving chest, defined abdomen, and below in easy reach. Your view was his own. Gaze descended, savoring his rouge patches and their peaks. Sweat coated his muscles, dimly reflecting the room’s candlelight. His belt was notched to its tightest setting, indicative of how securely he locked himself in. As you started to weave yourself between his threads, you pressed your lips to his skin, sucking away the fear of this new step. Though he shuddered, Levi tilted his head back and relinquished his anxiety - releasing shameful sounds for your ears alone. 

The room was quiet, so quiet that the clack of his buckle and roll of his zipper felt interruptive. You cherished each of his mewls, savored the shifts of the sheets, both of you in disbelief at the scene you were playing. Levi wrapped his hands around your forearm, clinging to you for stability in encouragement of your actions. As you slowly slid his slacks down rigid thighs, over tightened knees, and perched them at his ankles, he knew where this was heading, yet something about it made his head spin. 

His boxer briefs felt inexplicably thin. Autumn air ran startlingly cold. His middle felt hot hot hot - his whole body on fire. Sweat trickled from his temple to his chest, following the path of strained, risen tendons. His breathing accelerated, gasps louder and louder, practically panting now, and his underwear wasn’t even off yet.

Picking up on his signs, you perched your hand on his jawline, beckoning his eye contact. Kindly, calmly, “Need a break? Want me to stop?”

Uncertainty defined this experience, but his desire was unthwarted: “N’No.” Levi reached his arms back. Though his movements were staggered and disjointed, nerves stinging along the way, he managed to pet your head. Shriveling further back into you, he pled, “Keep going.”

Your gaze flickered, though your contact remained solid. Opposite: Levi’s look was strong in conviction even as his body weakened. In the ensuing kiss, your energies balanced on your journey to become one. 

Your hands dove past his shoulders, palms flat against his chest, pillows to his heartbeat. Fingernails traced his torso like water down a washboard. It took all you had to keep your arms steady as you approached the final obstacle: a marathoner gaining speed at the sight of the finish line. Thumbs hooked beneath his waistband and tugged gradually, offering him another opportunity to halt things, but with you and at last, Levi longed to break free. 

When he finally did, he was all you imagined and more. A deep color, accent to his ivory skin. Solid length between angled hipbones, twitchingly touchstarved. Anticipation poured over and leaked down: moonlight reflected, shining a spotlight on your model. 

“Oh, Levi…” your hands caressed him with enamor, “you’re beautiful.”

Levi bit the inside of his cheek, but that did nothing to hide his blush. His body blazed against yours: unused to compliments, he incinerated them in embarrassment. As you always had, yet for the first time, you reminded him it was okay by taking care of his problems. Tonight, a satiation that only you could fulfill. 

Fingertips traced his base before crawling up his shaft. Closing your hand around him. At last in your grasp, both of you shared a silent agreement: all was right in the world. You tipped your head back and sighed: virgin skin soft and smooth. His posture melted in satisfaction: his most vulnerable self accepted and adored by the one he admired most. His stance tensed again, though, when you made your way to his tip, inciting an intense stretch and hiss. 

To hear such a voice from humanity’s strongest struck fear in your motions. Realizing your startle and recognizing the stop in sensation, he hurriedly apologized, “S’Sorry…” Levi squirmed, “It’s just…”

Your heart stopped until he managed, “It feels… so good!” 

Then, it was sprinting. 

Once again, his voice shocked you. Now flung to the opposite end of his spectrum: panic then pleasure. You aimed to soothe him through both, through everything, “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

Right hand continued to work him while your left hand reached to his bedside table, snatching tissues in preparation for his seed and for his peace of mind. Noticing the lotion on his nightstand, only with his gaze averted did you allow yourself a smirk. You supposed some of that steadfast facade had remained after all, for the thought of the captain pleasing himself still took your breath away. You pumped yourself a couple ounces, the moistened hand around his member is what took his away.  

“Ah’Ahh!!” Levi writhed against your chest. The arch of his back snapped up from your stomach. Fists clenched in his bedding as his teeth clenched together, a short precursor to added arousal spilled over - further drenching your hand, consequentially compounding the sensation. 

Even though his suite was on the higher end, having earned it through the ranks, it did not mean the walls were less thin. You thought about others hearing, then gossiping, and therefore discouraging him from being so open - even with you, even behind closed doors. Instead of teasing him or shushing him, though, you muted him through preferable methods. Dipping your fingers past his lips, you slowly inched yourself further and further into his mouth. Warm, soft, Levi’s breath adorably caught as he learned to accommodate you in his space. Fingertips grazed the tops of his teeth, a wordless reminder of the trust you shared. He wouldn’t bite. You wouldn’t either.  Spreading your fingers, delighted as he licked the spaces between. Not bad for his first time. 

Similarly, how long he had lasted was both impressive and concerning: either he had prepared well or you weren’t doing good enough. Slowly, you withdrew your fingers, granting him the space to speak. Chills of confidence as Levi circled his lips around them as you left.  

Between his shoulder and neck, you pressed your lips to his back, preparing to ask for some assurance. Does it feel good? Do you like this? 

Before you could, though, he answered and calmed all your doubts. While his breaths were heavy and even, his words revealed a naked truth: “If you - keep this up…!” Even in the throes of it and on the brink of climax, even as his poise unraveled, his intuition remained perfect. He knew what was coming. He knew it was him. 

Automatically, you brought a second hand to his length. Instantly, “A’Ah!!” His body slammed back, you were happy to serve as his cushion as he squirmed, “Shit… Shit, (Y/N)!”

In your grip, you felt him pulse. His arc was steep and lovely. Knees buckled, hips rocking - his physicality aligned with his verbal sentiment. “I’m gon’na…” Neck turned towards you, chapped lips scraped your ear as he screamed, “I think - I think I’m gon’na!!”

I know you are, sweetheart. 

Levi wished it could last longer, and poor thing had tried the best he could, but his body eventually denied that delay - his back arched high, his pace too fast. He had put himself entirely in your hold and “fuck…” did it feel good. 

His face adorably scrunched as he struggled through his tidal waves - you knew you would need a front-row seat next time. All his filthy phrases, though, fell right - so right - upon your ears. A new context to his filthy tongue - one you would never forget. Passion expelled warm on your hands - a calming sensation in this overstimulating scene.

“Oh, Levi…” you cooed, he was so goddamn beautiful. Pupils dilated as you watched him paint himself in his own cream, a work of art. Stars in your veins as you felt that gloss drip down, licking your lips, you sighed in anticipation, you wanted it in you next time. 

Sparse twitches died down, high-pitched breaths descended to their standard low, eyes gained the strength to peek past their squint - all signs of his comedown. For those precious minutes, dealings with oxygen were all that filled the air. His final sigh - head thrown forward, eyes closed in bliss, sweat-coated bangs made contrast with his scarlet chest - wordlessly satisfied all pillow talk: 

How good it felt.

There would be a next time.

It was love. 

Kinktober Year 3 Masterlist

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Beginnings Part 1

A properly written version of these Paris Olympics headcanons. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, and they meet on the plane to Paris.

Author's note: I didn't really intend to write this, but of course I couldn't help myself. It also got a lot longer than I meant it to so I split it into 2 parts. I probably won't make a real full length fic out of this, but if I have the time I might make it a little disjointed series or something.

---

Falling in love was not on Gale Cleven’s Paris Olympics bingo card. It is, in fact, the absolute furthest thing from his mind, City of Love be damned. It’s his first Olympics, and he’d like to focus on nothing other than his horse, his riding, and trying to bring home a medal for his team. So it’s a shame that that plan is already falling apart.

As a member of the United States equestrian team, Gale really should’ve been on a plane two days ago with the rest of the equestrian athletes, the horses, and the massive support team and quite frankly excessive amount of “just in case” equipment that travels with them. He should be in Paris already, walking Whiskey around the grounds, ensuring she has everything she needs, and settling their training schedule for the days before the Games begin. Instead, he’s anxiously waiting to board a different plane, by himself, in a mad dash to get to France.

The night before they were scheduled to fly, one of Gale’s younger prospects had started showing colic symptoms. His groom called him around 8pm, and Gale had abandoned his frantic last-minute packing to rush right on back to the stables. At first the symptoms ameliorated with some banamine and a lot of walking, but Gale spent the night in an uncomfortable cot, waking periodically to monitor the young gelding, damned if he was going to abandon one of his horses when they were sick no matter how much he trusted his care team. When symptoms worsened again in the wee hours of the morning, the horse had to be transported to a veterinary facility for further testing and observation. Gale spent his morning pacing white, sterile halls with his head in his hands, eyes bloodshot and clothes rumpled. 

He’d called Benny, his good friend and Olympic teammate, the moment it was no longer inappropriately early for that kind of thing. “The team will get Whiskey ready to go, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the airport,” he told him. Benny swore, but assured Gale that he’d keep an extra eye on his mare for him. Then Gale called Neil Harding, one of their coaches, to update him and begin the process of finding a new flight to Paris.

By early afternoon, the veterinarian told Gale, who was getting jittery from a lack of sleep and too little food, that the gelding would be okay, but needed to be kept for further observation. Gale thanked him profusely, but by then, the Olympic horses and riders were already prepared for take-off, including his own mare. And he is forcing himself to believe that he can trust his grooms to take good care of her.

He hadn’t managed to find a new flight for another two days, and their departure time is so early in the morning that it should be illegal. So now he’s here. Still exhausted and staving off starvation with nothing but an airport muffin as he stands in line to board a plane out of Washington, D.C. All around him are athletes, kitted out with team USA jackets and bags. The flight is filled with red, white, and blue, like a walking “I want you for the U.S. army” poster, except it’s the Olympics instead. Gale blends right in and yet knows he sticks out like a sore thumb. Most of the athletes here are traveling with their teams, or at least with friends or other people competing in their sports. Gale is alone, quiet, just trying to get through the day. 

He’s looking forward to being able to doze on the plane, even if he never can fall asleep on these flights no matter how long they are. That’s what he’s thinking about as he walks down the narrow aisle, lugging his team USA duffle behind him, hoping maybe he’ll be the first person in his row to sit down since he has the window seat and he just does not have it in him to go through the awkward shoving-past-a-stranger song and dance. But, of course, he can’t even have that tiny luxury.

The man assigned to the aisle seat is, for lack of a better word, huge. He’s at least as tall as Gale from the looks of it, but unlike Gale, he’s all shoulders and strong thighs, looking almost comical in these economy seats. Gale tosses his duffle into the overhead compartment and clears his throat, prepared to ask the man if he could please stand up so Gale can get to his seat. Except when the guy looks up, Gale forgets every word that was about to come out of his mouth and he ends up spluttering like an idiot. 

John Egan. That’s his seatmate on this plane. John Egan, the poster boy of U.S. gymnastics on his way to his second Olympics, with his messy curls and his dazzling eyes and a winning smile that could charm the pants off just about anyone no matter which way they swung. 

And that smile is pointed right. At. Gale. 

Gale just blinks and tries to smile back, but his mouth won’t listen because his brain is just too tired and apparently being seated next to the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life was the last fucking straw. So he just tilts his head awkwardly, motions to the seat assigned to him, and hopes that’ll get the point across. 

“Oh, sorry man,” John says, standing up to step into the aisle, except the aisle is packed with people still trying to get to their seats and so he can’t go very far. Instead, Gale has to try to slip between John Egan’s hulking form and the seats in front of them, nearly stepping on the man’s foot as their arms bump awkwardly, before he unceremoniously collapses down into his seat with a grunt. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly as John sits back down beside him. And then because he just cannot deal with today any longer, and he knows he’ll make a fool of himself if he so much as tries to say anything to the man on his right, he shoves his earbuds into his ears and squeezes his eyes shut. 

John Egan was, to be polite about it, startled when he looked up to see his row-mate standing beside him, asking for access to his seat. To be less polite, John Egan was overwhelmingly shocked and very pleased when he saw how fucking hot the guy was. Once he’s settled back in his seat again, he turns to his left, intending to ask the blonde his name and what sport he’ll be competing in. But said blonde has already shoved some headphones into his ears and is turned away, his head resting lazily against the seat as he stares out the window at the plane’s wing. Disappointed, Bucky still finds himself staring at that messily coiffed blonde hair, the little bit of stubble on the man’s chin, the hint of startling bright blue that Bucky can see in his eyes from his side profile, reflecting the rising sunlight spilling through the window. 

Bucky frowns and forces himself to look away. Fine. This guy doesn’t want to talk, Bucky doesn’t have to talk. Sure, they’re both wearing Team USA jackets and perhaps the polite thing to do would be to introduce themselves to one another if nothing else. Seeing as they have a seven hour flight to the Olympic Games, which they will both clearly be competing in. And this man is absolutely gorgeous and Bucky wants to learn every single thing about him. But it’s fine. 

It’s fine. 

He’ll just watch a movie or something instead. 

That idea lasts him all of about two and half hours, at which point he’s watched Top Gun: Maverick in its entirety and does not at all feel like watching another movie. He can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at the blonde beside him and is tapping his fingers incessantly on his arm rest, stuck in a fancy tin can 30,000 feet above ground with nothing to do with all his pent up energy. He’s bound and determined not to let his tendency for spontaneity get the better of him, even if he so badly just wants to wake the man up and try to strike up a conversation. Because this guy seems done with the world and that’s a sure-fire way to make sure he doesn’t like Bucky at all. 

But as Bucky tries to get himself to stop obsessively looking over at the guy, who has his eyes shut even though Bucky is 98% sure he isn’t sleeping, he notices something sticking out of the pocket on the seat back in front of him. A boarding pass. Honestly, what person under the age of 40 still uses physical boarding passes instead of just having it on their phone? But Bucky will happily accept this turn of events because he is not beyond craning his neck forward a bit to try to read the name. 

‘Cleven.’

Okay, that’s not a super common one. He can work with that. 

Sure enough, typing ‘Cleven US Olympics’ into his phone – thank god for on board wifi – yields immediate results. Gale Cleven, 2024 Olympic athlete, equestrian/eventing. There’s countless photos of him: portraits alone, portraits with various horses, and action shots. They’re enough to make Bucky involuntarily smile and glance over at the man once again, comparing this eye-catching real life visual to these equally eye-catching professional photos, but he forces his eyes back to his phone. 

This is Gale Cleven’s  first Olympics – along with best friends Benny Demarco, also on the eventing team, and Marjorie Spencer, who is on the jumping team – but he’s argued to be one of the best riders on team USA. He’s put in stellar performances at every one of his events in the last couple years and is projected to medal, at the very least. He and his horse, Hundred Proof, lovingly known as Whiskey, have quickly become fan favorites (Bucky has no doubt that this is in part due to how beautiful the man is, and add to that how beautiful his horse is). 

Realizing he hardly even knows what eventing is or how it’s different from the other equestrian disciplines at the Olympics, Bucky spends the better part of half an hour reading up on the basics before returning to an article about Gale Cleven, which links to a highlight video of their recent experience at the Olympic trials just weeks ago, where he and Whiskey placed first. Dressage, jumping, and cross country. Bucky finds himself completely fascinated by all of it. 

He has vague memories of watching this event during the last Olympics. Vague memories of watching several riders take hard falls during the cross country portion. He wonders about Gale, if he’s ever been hurt doing the sport that he loves. God knows Bucky has. 

He doesn’t want to imagine that pretty face in pain. And honestly, what is he doing even thinking about it? The guy hasn’t said two words to him, literally. He could be a dick. 

Except, by all accounts online, he’s not. Everyone loves him. 

Okay. Bucky can’t take it anymore. They have four hours left on this plane. He needs that man’s attention on him. Needs to see those eyes focused on him. Needs to find out if his voice is as intoxicating as the rest of him.

As if the world is on his side, they hit some turbulence right then, making Gale open his eyes and glance around groggily. Panicking, Bucky attempts to be inconspicuous as he lets his complementary bag of pretzels drop to the ground, landing by Gale’s feet. He watches as Gale notices it, leans over even as he’s getting bumped around by the rough air, and snatches the bag between long, slender fingers. 

He peeks up at Bucky with the tiniest hint of a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile and holds the pretzels out. Bucky smiles lopsidedly back at him and thanks him. 

Gale has every intention of just closing his eyes once again after that. That brief moment of eye contact alone, that goofy grin and those eyes, were enough to make his heart flutter all funny. Not only does he not need that right now, but he can’t think of a single thing to say to this man. Should he say something funny or sarcastic about the pretzels passing from hand to hand, their fingertips brushing just the littlest bit in a way that jolts Gale’s system? Or should he ask John about… well, about what? It feels so unfair that he knows who John is, even if he doesn’t know shit about his sport, but he knows that John probably doesn’t have the slightest idea who he is. 

Maybe he should introduce himself? But they’ve been sitting beside each other for at least three hours now and Gale has pointedly ignored him like a fucking asshole and… oh no. Oh no. 

John Egan, two time Olympian and the most beautiful man he’s ever set eyes on, is going to think he’s an asshole. All because Gale, exhausted and frustrated and nervous as he is, couldn’t figure out how to speak to an attractive man and chose to just… what? Not acknowledge him for seven hours? Like an idiot. 

And then Gale sees John’s phone, which is sitting face up in his lap. John is staring down at it intently, chewing on his thumbnail. It’s a video of cross country. It’s a video of Gale. 

“Bold of you to watch a video of someone you’re sitting next to,” Gale muses. 

John looks up at him, but he doesn’t look startled or cornered or caught in the act like Gale might’ve expected. He just looks at Gale, completely sincere, and shrugs. “Well, I had to look you up so I could figure out what the hell to say to you.”

Gale arches an eyebrow. He doesn’t know if he’s flattered? Or… something else? “How about ‘hi’?”

John’s smile twists into a smirk. “I tried that didn’t I? You didn’t seem too interested in introductions.”

Gale feels himself blushing and he hates it, but John’s expression doesn’t change. His eyes are still staring right at him. “Sorry. I, uh…” Gale rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s been a really, really long couple days.” He sighs and attempts to hold out a hand to shake, but immediately regrets it in this weird small space where he and John are already shoulder to shoulder. “Well, I’m Gale Cleven.”

John takes his hand anyway. “John Egan. Everyone calls me Bucky, though.”

“I know who you are.”

“You watch gymnastics?”

Gale shakes his head. “Not really. I don’t know much about it. Everyone’s talkin’ about you though. It’s hard not to know your name.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to blush as he lets go of Gale’s hand. Even if it’s true, he never really gets used to it. He’s always liked getting people’s attention, but he never knows how he feels about that attention being nationwide. Much less global. “We’re even then. I don’t know shit about horses.” He motions to his phone. “Hence why I had to look up eventing and all.”

This man sat here for who knows how long, looking up Gale and his sport, just to have something to say to him? Suddenly, Gale doesn’t feel tired for the first time in two days. “What kind of nickname is Bucky? What is this, the forties?”

“What kind of a name is Gale?” Bucky retorts smoothly, and Gale doesn’t even know what to say to that. 

“Mine.”

Bucky looks at him like he doesn’t know what to make of him, and Gale tries not to squirm under that gaze. But Bucky just tilts his head, looks Gale up and down. “I suppose it is.” Then, after a pause, “you know, you remind me of a buddy back home where I grew up. Everyone called him Buck.”

“Seriously? Buck and Bucky?”

“You got it, Buck.”

Gale turns away momentarily to look out his window, hiding a smile behind his hand. What even is this guy? “‘Buck’ is something I’d rather my horse not do.”

Bucky can’t help the grin that breaks out over his face, and he doesn’t bother hiding it when Gale turns his head to look at him again. And Bucky was right, after all. Having this man’s attention on him is like basking in the sunlight. And that southern drawl is like a drug. He needs it not to stop.

For all the not-talking they were doing before, now they barely shut up for the rest of the flight. Bucky learns that Gale missed his original flight because of one of his younger horses getting sick, and that he’s barely slept in two days. He learns that Gale has been riding horses since before he could walk. He grew up in Wyoming, surrounded by ranch land, where he learned to ride western as a young child. But his mom always loved English, and soon Gale fell in love with it, too. The way jumping made him feel like he was flying, the way cross country tested his mental and physical limits, and most of all, the beauty and elegance of dressage. Gale couldn’t get enough. Horses were his escape from an unpleasant home life that he won’t elaborate on (and that Gale is shocked at himself for mentioning at all). 

He spent as much time as possible at the nearby stables, taking summer and after school jobs doing farm work in exchange for ride time. He trained green horses from the ground up, substituting a can-do attitude and a saintly patience for his ragtag hand-me-down clothes and tack. He left Wyoming first chance he got, moved to the east coast on a need-based college scholarship and settled in Maryland to get better access to the training he knew he needed if he wanted to make a name for himself. He’s had his lovely mare – a stunning 17 hand chestnut Hanoverian – since she was just two years old. She’s 9 now, and Gale brought her along from the beginning. 

Bucky is in awe of how soft Gale gets when he talks about her. How much he so clearly loves her, not just as an animal, but as an athlete, a partner, a best friend, a child. Gale shows Bucky a photo of her, but Bucky can’t help but look at Gale instead. Can’t help but wonder how much he’d have to do right to get this perfect human beside him to look at him like that. A ridiculous thought, but this is the happiest Bucky has felt in a while. And it’s all happening while he’s sitting on a plane over the Atlantic.

Gale learns that Bucky has been a gymnast since he was just four years old. His sister somehow convinced him to do it with her, and so he did, even though his child self thought it was a girly sport, because he always wanted to please his big sister. His sister ended up dropping it, as children do, jumping from hobby to hobby like a wildfire. But Bucky kept going. It was the perfect sport to keep his mind and body occupied, to still his incessant fidgeting and make him focus on something productive. He’s always loved the floor exercise the best – the combination of power and strength and elegance. It’s one of his best events, along with rings. 

He’d always been good, but when he hit puberty and shot up like a beanstalk, packing on the muscle, he became unstoppable. People told him he’d be too tall to ever make anything of it, but he sought to prove them wrong, finding ways to adapt his height to the events, ways to make his size work to his advantage. He went to college on a full scholarship for gymnastics and ended up with one of the top gyms in the country, located in D.C. He went to the Tokyo Olympics and is now back for more. His sister died suddenly before she ever got to see him become an Olympian, but he feels her there with every tumbling pass, every high bar routine. He does it, in part, for her. Even when he broke his leg in a freak accident two years ago (which he won’t elaborate on), he kept on pushing, came back with a vengeance. Not only because he needs gymnastics, but because he didn’t want to let his sister down. 

John and Gale are strangers, and yet they’ve told each other things they only ever say to their closest friends. And neither of them is really even sure why. Why it feels so easy between them. Why it feels so natural, like they were always supposed to end up right here.  

But eventually the plane lands. The athletes disembark. And Bucky is devastated to realize that he’s lost Gale in the crowd of red, white, and blue. He’s even more devastated to realize he forgot to get his number. 

—

“Who the hell are you lookin’ for?” Curt asks, shaking his head at Bucky, who keeps looking frantically over the crowd with a lost and hopeful expression all over his face. They’re at the baggage claim, dragging their luggage away from the conveyor belt and towards the exit doors. 

There’s not much Bucky won’t tell Curt, to be honest, so he doesn’t even hesitate or act the slightest bit shy about it. “The guy I sat next to on the plane.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“Tall, blonde, horseback rider. Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Curt blinks at him. “You talkin’ about Gale Cleven?” 

Bucky spins around so fast he whacks Curt in the chest with his duffel. “You know him?”

Curt shrugs. “Sorta. We’ve met a couple times. Went to school together.” WHAT?

“Do you have his number?” Bucky pleads desperately, and Curt just chuckles and shakes his head at him.

“Sorry, man. Don’t know him like that. Why are ya actin’ like he’s your one true love and you’ve gotta run through an airport to make sure he knows before he flies away?”

Bucky freezes, stares somewhere that isn’t at Curt’s face. “I just- He’s-”

Curt breaks out into laughter, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Hell, Bucky, only you would fall in love with a stranger on a fuckin’ plane.”

Hold on. Back up. “I’m not in love-”

“You know what,” Curt interrupts him. “I’m not even surprised. What did I really expect when I made you sit on your own?”

“Oh fuck off,” Bucky snaps halfheartedly, resigned to the fact that Gale has disappeared, maybe never to be seen again.

“I mean, at least it’s Cleven and not your usual.”

“My usual?”

Curt nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, like, at least Gale is a nice guy.” Okay, Bucky supposes Curt might have a point. He’s not exactly known for having good taste in the men he dates and their general… personalities. “And he’s like, adorable.”

Bucky laughs. Adorable. Yeah, that’s one way to describe Gale, he supposes. Good looking, hot, beautiful, perfect. “He looks like a literal fucking angel,” he laments.

“A pretty puppy that you just wanna hug.”

Bucky groans as he sets his bag down by one of the exit doors, where they’re waiting for some of their teammates. “Shit, I can’t believe I didn’t even get his number.”

“Oh, did Bucky fall in love with the pretty boy he was sitting next to?” Croz joins them at the door, dropping his bag at his feet with a heavy thunk.

“Real shocker, right?” Curt jokes.

Croz whistles and shakes his head. “Jesus, the way he was looking at you. I think it’s mutual.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky pouts. He halfheartedly kicks at his duffle. “I didn’t get his number.”

“Bucky,” Curt says, with a look that says you’re fucking ridiculous, as if Bucky doesn’t already know. But then he points out, “We’re at the Olympics. He’s probably stayin’ in the Village, just like us. And you know what events he’s gonna be in.”

Right. Right right right. Yeah, there’s plenty of ways he could possibly track this guy down. 

“Yeah, simple,” Croz agrees. “Operation Find Bucky’s Soulmate is a go.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and shoves Croz, but all three of them are laughing as they grab their bags and head out of the airport.

“You better not let this get in the way of the Games,” Curt warns. He doesn’t think it’ll come to that, but he also knows that Bucky can get… distracted.

But as much as Bucky wants to find Gale again, as determined as he is to do it, the Games are too important to him. He vows to himself that he won’t let anything get in the way of seeking that gold medal, but Hell, he can do both, can’t he?

–

Turns out, for all the time Bucky spent his first night in Paris trying to figure out where Gale might be when – where is he staying? When are his events? His ride times? Where are the Team USA horses stabled? How to get past security at said stables? – it was all pointless. Bright and early the next morning, as he wanders the dining hall and ogles the muffins he knows he probably shouldn’t have too many of, he slams right into someone else. 

“Oh, fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, but then he looks at the guy and his breath catches. Gale Cleven is in front of him, rubbing his chest where Bucky just collided with him and spilled coffee all over his bright white polo shirt. “Oh fuck,” Bucky says again, this time with significantly more alarm. 

Gale just looks back at him with an amused, endearing sort of smile that Bucky cannot sort out the meaning of. “Bucky.”

Bucky is mortified. He is not a person who is easily mortified, but if a black hole opened up at his feet right now, he would kindly accept that fate over whatever embarrassment this is. “Buck.”

“Still with the nickname I see.”

Bucky isn’t focused on that right now, though. “I’m so sorry. God, I can’t believe I did that. Maybe we can get it out?” He reaches awkwardly towards Gale, rubbing his fingertips over the coffee stain before he realizes that he’s just casually feeling Gale’s rock-solid chest in the middle of the Olympic Village dining hall and there are, in fact, other athletes swarming about, having to part around them. 

And yet, Gale doesn’t seem to care one bit.

“It’s fine,” he says calmly, like he’s trying to placate a nervous child. Bucky can’t really even care because that voice will be the death of him anyways. “I’ll just change after breakfast,” Gale rationalizes. “It’ll come out in the wash, no problem.”

Bucky nods dumbly before motioning towards the dining area. “Have breakfast with me?”

Gale’s smile shifts to something sweeter, shyer, more genuine and oh Bucky wants to make that happen as much as he can. “I’d like that. Let me just finish getting some food.” 

Bucky nods because, right, of course, Gale doesn’t even have anything on his tray yet. So he says he’ll save them a seat and they part ways and Bucky tries not to wonder if Gale only said that to get him to go away and won’t actually come back. After all, what would a beautiful, charming, level-headed guy like Gale see in a cocky, awkward mess of a guy like Bucky?

But a few minutes later, he looks up to a shadow standing beside the table, and there he is. He didn’t leave. Gale doesn’t quite smile with his mouth, but it’s in his eyes, the softness of his face. He sets a cup of coffee down in front of Bucky before taking a seat across the table from him.

“You got me new coffee?”

“It was the least I could do, since yours ended up all over my shirt.” Gale motions to the stain right over his left pec.

“I ran into you,” Bucky insists. But he takes the coffee gratefully and sips it with far too much need.

“I think we kinda ran into each other.” Bucky is about to say something sarcastic or funny in response, but Gale is already moving on. He really just doesn’t care that Bucky ruined his shirt. Okay then. “Thank God I found you,��� he’s saying, and he actually looks relieved. “I got to the baggage claim and realized I couldn’t see you anywhere, and I forgot to ask for your number cause I’m an idiot, Jesus-“

A laugh bubbles out of Bucky’s mouth, because he genuinely can’t believe that the disappointing feeling of devastating loss he’d experienced in the airport was mutual. “It’s okay. I did the same thing.” He shrugs. “But it looks like fate just keeps bringing us together.”

“Looks like it, huh?”

And they fall into the same easy conversation that they did on the plane. Gale tells Bucky that Whiskey is doing well. She arrived safely and is already strutting around the stables like she owns the place. The equestrian facilities are located nearly an hour from the village, so being there will take up a lot of his time, but his friends, Benny and Marge, keep insisting that he needs to socialize, whatever that means.

Bucky tells Gale about Curt, and Gale is surprisingly excited to hear about his old classmate, saying he’d love to see him again. Bucky promises him that he’ll make it happen. Tells him about all the wild shit they get up to when they travel, about how close they’ve become over the years.

Gale promises him that he’ll get to meet Whiskey sometime, if he wants (yes, John very much wants).

They tell each other about their sports, about the events and the rules and everything they love (and hate) about them. Bucky tells Gale about some of the skills he has planned, which includes a skill or two that he himself actually introduced to the world stage, meaning they’re named after him in the FIG Code of Points.

“Wait,” Gale stops him mid-sentence. “You have your own skills named after you? There’s a skill in the code book called ‘the Egan’?”

Bucky nods, like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah,” he says. “Three.” Gale is stunned.

Gale tells Bucky about flying all over the world with his horse and how much effort goes into just shipping her from place to place. He tells him about how much this Olympics means to him. How he’s, you know, a normal amount of freaking the fuck out about riding at Château de Versailles. He’s done his share of major international events, but shit, nothing has ever come close to riding in an arena set between beyond-perfectly manicured gardens in front of a palace.

Both of them lose track of time, and neither of them can really remember what they’re supposed to be doing this morning instead of sitting here, lost in conversation with someone they just met but might as well have known their entire lives. Lost in pretty eyes and perfect smiles and contagious laughs, leaning across the table towards each other and giggling like schoolgirls, so close Gale can smell the coffee on Bucky’s breath.

Bucky keeps spinning around in circles in his head, trying to decide if he’s imagining the way Gale is staring at him. Trying to decide what those facial expressions mean. He decides right there and then that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if Gale is gay or straight or if they can be friends or if they could ever be more; John just wants this man in his life. He wants to make him smile and hear the sound of his laugh and just be in his presence. He wants to know who Gale Cleven is, and he wants Gale to know who he is. In a way that he’s never cared about with anyone else.

He’s been trying to play this cool. Sure, he may be failing miserably, but he at least tries not to push too much too fast. Tries to just enjoy talking to this wonderful person. Because he’s actually crazy for feeling so much so quickly. But then again, that’s kind of how he’s always been: a little crazy. 

What he doesn’t know is that Gale is thinking the same thing. He’s drawn to Bucky like a moth to a flame, and he’s terrified because he knows he might get burned. Because what would such a good-looking, self-assured, and captivating guy like John Egan want in a reserved, awkward mess of a guy like Gale? It feels actually insane, the way he wants John’s attention. It’s so out of character for him and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. Doesn’t want it to stop. 

So he finds himself saying, “I have some free time this afternoon. Do you wanna check out the village or something?”

And Bucky says yes with such enthusiasm that Gale thinks maybe he feels it, too. 

—

Part 2

[youkaiyume]

Alright, I have finally gotten through the rest of Bridgerton Season 3 Part 2 (twice) now, and I do have some thoughts. I am going to be splitting what I liked and what I didn't into different posts.

This one will be all the things I did not love.

Spoilers below.

--

Overally I'm not quite sure how to feel? While I'm happy with where they ended, I thought how they got there was extremely rough. And it's not as if I don't like a bit of drama, but the amount of stress and heartbreak in between was too much. Perhaps I should have kept away from the Bridgerton interviews because they really set my expectations high, for certain things.

From the delirious high of Episode 5 that really gave us everything, to the lows of the Whistledown reveal hanging over us in the rest of the season, I truly was befuddled on my couch at 2 AM. I expected Colin to be angry with Pen about Whistledown, but I truly did not expect for them to go into their wedding and then well into their marriage not having hashed out these wounds or accepting one another fully.

When Colin accused her of entrapment it was truly crushing, especially when he had so passionately denied to her mother before of this very accusation. Only now to throw it in her face and confirm all of her deepest fears and regrets. Even if he could not have reconciled her alter ego with Penelope I had hoped that he would assure her that he still loved her so that she could go into the chapel the next morning without feeling that he was only there out of obligation. When he said these things I was surprised that Penelope did not offer to withdraw from the engagement. Not only if he was so clearly unhappy but also I couldn't believe that she would marry him knowing this is what he thought of her. This would have been great for the official reveal when she is up on stage making her speech to the ton, where he was standing by her side to speak. Not literally, I understand the importance of wanting her to step into her power by herself in the spotlight, but it would have been nice to see her doing it knowing she had the full support and love of her husband.

Instead, she went up there believing that he would want to annul the marriage, and that she had done this in a way to secure her and her family's future without him--because she--and WE have been told this entire season that a woman has to look out for herself. How wonderful it would have been to be proven wrong--that she is not alone.

Don't get me wrong, I did feel in the way he looked at her during the wedding and when they danced that there is a clear longing and love for her despite their rift. And when he said their vows I genuinely felt that he meant them and wanted nothing more to be hers. It's clear despite everything, deep down he still wants that happy ending with her, but the show sure spent the entire time having them not talk about their feelings.

Again, I had fully thought that by the time they were married he accepted her, and the the entire plot revolving Cressida's blackmail would be him fully trying to protect and support his wife because he loved all of her and feared for her safety. Instead, it came off like he was protecting Penelope because she was a Bridgerton now and he didn't want this to sully their good name. Not even the line about him being mad about someone blackmailing his wife was enough for me. I will temper this once again with it was clear that of course he still loved and was beginning to understand her, especially when he made his plea to Cressida to spare Penelope.

Don't get me wrong, I love angst but I did not think it would drag on until the last moments of the series. And it's the kind of marriage that I also did not like for Season 1, where Daphne and Simon spent most of their time married apart. My stomach really dropped when I realized 'oh, we're doing this again...' And yes we did get a brief "honeymoon" period tho this is misleading when the actors promoted it because it took place during their engagement before the reveal. But even then we could not fully enjoy the moments when they were blissfully happy because Penelope's secret hung so heavily over them.

It is certainly complex all of the feels he's having--loving her, angry and betrayed by her, feeling deep sympathy for her while also envying her success. Penelope feeling like he can't love all these parts of her even if they're not perfect, her constant regret, not wanting to give up her voice--it's all too much for them and it was clear they did not have time to unpack all of this in the time they had. I feel like we needed at least one extra episode or two.

And to add insult to injury, we took up so much time panning back to Benedict's sexcapades. And look, don't get me wrong I was giggling like a schoolgirl when we got confirmed bi-benedict. But also I felt like the times we flashed back to him in the bedroom was too much. In fact I was slightly confused because the way it was shot/the same location made me think they were just returning to the same sex scene over and over again. As if the entire plot was happening over days and Ben hasn't been able to take off his shirt yet! Trapped forever in an endless night instead of it reading like 'this is several trysts that he's had.' I don't need these many scenes to understand that he's enjoying his newfound sexuality. Especially by comparison we got so little of Polin in their own season--both as a couple and promised spicy moments--they spent so much of it apart!

And then!! There is Eloise!! There's a lot I can say about Eloise, but the main one for right now is just how much her self absorption continues to shine through. The way she just treats her supposed friends like convenient audiences to talk to, and immediately ignores them when they have problems of their own. They way she cannot be bothered to truly learn or care about a single thing about them unless it affects her in some way.

Truly my flabber was gasted when she told Pen it was a good thing Cressida should take the fall, only to turn around and deny Cressida any help in her fake Whistledown paper when it would have solved all of their problems. Like, you know Cress is lying! Just help her out, you know she's desperate to save herself and it would also save Pen! Even if Cress took the mantle briefly and then retired by saying she quit because she is now unmasked that would have been ideal.

Instead she walked away and is now shocked when Cressida decides to talk shit about everyone including the Bridgerton family. Prompting Pen to come out of hiding (at your behest!!!) to save your ass AGAIN with Whistledown--which by the way Eloise was so very pleased and grateful for the next morning. And then truly said thanks for that sis, sorry that blew up your engagement tho lol sorry I won't try to help out with that or support you at all. Like. WTF. I could write essays on how Eloise continues to disappoint me despite my best hopes for her but you can tell I get a little ranty about her.

A little minor thing I am not sure how to feel now also is how Polin's son is now the Featherington heir. Like I know that's overall a good thing and I am pleased she won the baby race--it means Pen and Colin can now move into Featherington house and just live across the square and she's saved her mother and family. but also Pen knows that is a fortune she is claiming to be from her Whistledown earnings is actually stolen money--A crime that her now husband tried in Season 2 to return to the rightful members of the ton. I can't imagine he'd feel completely okay with that... unless this is another secret she is keeping from him? I dunno, it's very messy. But also! I would have liked for Colin and Pen to have spent some time actually traveling child free together on an actual honeymoon. (Did they even get to honeymoon????) But Colin immediately knocked her up their first time together he's too powerful I guess.

Anyway, I have good things to say too, I'll probably post about them later.

[princessbunnib]

Adulture

Levi Ackerman |Attack On Titan|

Summary: Breaking the rules isn't so bad when the person you're breaking said rules with is just as shameless about it like you are.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut MDNI, Switch Reader, Switch Levi, Marital Infidelity, High Tension, Little To No Talking, Sex In Livingroom, Sex On Table, Sex On Floor, Missionary, CowGirl, PullOut Method, Oral |F| Receiving, Sex Standing Up, Unhappy Marriage, Negative Talk About Having Children, Nipple Play, Slight Choking, Intense Intamcy.

Author's Note:

The build-up is long for this one but I assure you that it is definitely worth it.♡

I always snap when I write for Levi, idk why but I literally get so creative when it comes to him. Anyways enjoy Bunni's.

PT2 IN THE WORKS

____

"Y/n! what're you looking at? Hello? Am I not speaking to you!?" Your husband yelled at you while you were scrolling on your phone at the dinner table. The both of you were set out to go on a double date with his co-worker and his wife. You weren't enthusiastic about going, spending a longer amount time with your husband makes your skin crawl every time.

"Stop fucking yelling at me, I hear you but I'm busy right now. Am I not on the phone!?" You snapped back at him. "Oh? Busy? With what... making another nail appointment since all you do is spend money and sit around?"

"Oh please. It's not like I'm spending yours, remember that I have my own will you? There's no point in getting upset when your pockets are perfectly fine." You said and got up from the table, slamming your phone on the glass surface while making your way down the hall to the bathroom.

You've been unhappy in your marriage for as long as you could remember. It wasn't made on the sense of love. Just a legal arrangement to make more money as a unit. You married him at a young age. Early twenties to be exact. Now that you're halfway through the ages that would make 'your prime' you were tired of seeing his face everyday and needed a change of scenery. He didn't love you, both of you spent most time at eachothers throats. Arguing until one of you stormed out of the house before things got too heated.

He wanted you to do more for him when you felt that you were doing just enough. For one, he wanted children. He wanted you to retire as a buisness women and just be his pregnant wife for the rest of the marriage. You didn't want to be a mother. You saw how parenthood forced people apart and knew that you didn't want that for yourself.

Children were a commitment you're not willing to sign up for. You already signed up for marriage. Only difference was for marriage, you could sign some papers- go to court and be done with the legal relationship with the other person. But if you had children? You'd forever have that burden following you around. The memory of birth burned into you mind, making it impossible for you to forget that you're even a parent in the first place.

You didn't want to have someone else to take care of. Spending money on yourself and yourself only was perfectly fine with you. Oh- do you want to get your hair done? Just make an appointment. Did you want an at home message? Hire somebody to come over and take care of it for you. You'd rather spend money on what you loved instead of diapers formula and 'back to school' supplies.

Not only all of those factors. You valued peace and quiet. When you have children every ounce of quiet goes down the drain. Who cares about those blood sucking snot nose brats. There are many other people in the world who loves and wants those things. The population wouldn't crumble to bits just because one women doesn't want to be a mother.

While you were in the bathroom fixing your makeup your husband walked in and stood in the doorway. Glaring at you and rolling his eyes. "Let's go already, Levi and his wife are probably at the restaurant already. They've also been planning on a baby so why not get in good with her. Hopefully she could talk some sense into you."

"Oh yeah? I'll pass... I told you I didn't even want to do this anyway. I'll play nice with her but I won't kiss her ass just because. She's not going to be a little friend of mine." You scoffed with an obvious eye roll.

"Tsk. I know she won't. All your friends have to be men... like to have your options open huh?" He said before walking off.

Who cares what he thinks. You can't wait to get those divorce papers on Wednesday. That would make the perfect birthday gift now wouldn't it.

"Happy birthday honey, I want a divorce!♡"

____

Levi didn't think his co-worker was the best guy in the office. Y/h/n was a jerk. Not to him of course but to the other people around him. He was also a big flirt for someone who wears a ring and makes it a point that he's married. He coincidently hits on the new comers, the least they knew about him the better of a target they'd be for 'workplace fun.' He was a loud mouth bastard who overcompincated to be liked. His attempts to be charasismatic always come on as a facade.

He's gained an opinion over Y/h/n just by being observant. The most you stay silent around people, the quicker they'll think they can be comfortable around you and let their slip hang. Because of this, it was easier for him to find out the dirt on everyone. Just because a man leaves the house with a clean suit on dose not mean that he doesn't get his hands dirty.

"Levi! Come on, we have to go. You said that Y/h/n and his wife are already at the restaurant right?"

He was in his office seated at his desk when Yuki walked in with her hands busy as she put in her pearl earing that had fell off for the third time. "Why are you always in here? It's so dark too." She questioned while flicking the light switch and walking over to his desk, making her way behind it and turning Levi's chair so he could face her. "Doesn't everyone enjoy peace and quiet sometimes?" He simply said desiring to keep the conversation short.

"Well yeah but you didn't hear me calling you? Anyways come on. We should go, ugh you just look so handsome." She smiled as he stood up, he laid a kiss on her cheek before walking passed her. "You look nice too, the purple really compliments your skin." He stated and held his hand out for her to grab.

They both walked out of his office and made their way outside. Levi held the door open for her like usual and waited for her to be seated so he could close the door and enter the driver's side.

He felt a cloud of looming dread follow him around. He wasn't sure where it was coming from or why he was even feeling that way in the first place. His marriage with Yuki was average. There were rarely any fights and even an even less amount of conversation. He was the problem. Levi has always had a hard time keeping himself open to others instead of acting as if he was the only person on earth. He liked being alone but that all changed once he found himself proposing to Yuki. And now with them trying for a child, he thinks this is the way his life will be from now on.

At first he didn't think he'd make a good father. He had no idea what the definition of a 'good father' was anyways. His childhood was rough. So how would he know every way to not fuck up the childhood of a newborn. Yuki was a good women. Always egging him on to be better, telling him that he wouldn't be alone in parenting and they'd both do a good job. Even with her words of uplifting, he still had doubts. Parenthood can't be for him, he's too broken to even look into the eyes of a child and feel any desire or love to have one of his own.

When he was in the moment of proposing to Yuki he didn't have a guess of what the future would hold. If anything the fear didn't set in until he was finally standing at the alter. Everyone staring at him as she poured her heart out to him. The audience filled with her family, not even a crumb of his own in sight. He was scared of saying those two words. Before he could even fully decide, he agreed. Maybe marriage wouldn't be too bad and maybe this feeling of regret would slip away.

To his demise it never did. And now that he's been married for almost ten years... he is just a dead man walking.

"So what's his wife like?" Yuki asked as she glanced at him, waiting for an answer.

"Who's wife- oh... right." He trailed off but quickly remembered who she was talking about.

"Are you okay honey? You seem like you're out of it tonight. Should we call and cancel?"

"No I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all, work was tiring. And you know I don't sleep much so... it just goes hand in hand." He deflected, coming up with a quick lie and shrugged off his response.

"Oh alright... did you hear my question atleast? I asked what is Y/h/n's wife like."

"Y/n? I'm not sure. He doesn't talk about her much other than what her name is. I don't know her that much if that's what you're asking."

"I see... a man who doesn't talk about his wife at all is a complete jack ass then."

"Yeah... that's his middle name alright. I hope he doesn't drink too much, the guy can barley hold a stapler without losing an eye. When alcohol is in the mix he's almost no good at anything."

"If you know so much about him that makes him seem insufferable to be around then why do you tolerate him? Don't you think going on this date would be stressful as is?"

"Yeah... you have a point but- actually I don't even know why I'm doing this. I would've said no if I wasn't thinking it instead of actually speaking it. To be frank it be better off reading a book at home right now."

"It's only a few hours Levi, I've seen you hold a conversation with my mother and she is the most insufferable person I know. You got this tonight, I'm sure it won't be that bad either. Surely he can't be a piece of work when his wife is around, she has to balance him out some way right?"

"I guess."

____

You were sitting at the bar when Y/h/n walked up to you with two people behind him. The strangers were holding hands so that told you that they were the couple your double date was to begin with. You grabbed your drink from the bartender and turned around in your seat. Flinging your leg over the other as the slit of your dress opened to reveal more of your smooth freshly waxed legs that you spent an hour doing just for tonight. Luckily you moisturized just enough so you wouldn't be itching all night.

You for sure felt cold. But with alcohol so close to being in your system, you'd surely warm up faster. "Y/n this is Levi and his wife Yuki." Y/h/n said as he put on a fake smile towards you. You mentally rolled your eyes and got out of the stool chair. Levi quickly coming towards you with a hand to help you down so you wouldn't fall.

You weren't aware of who was helping you as you grabbed the soft but rough hand and focused on making sure your dress didn't get ruined by your heel. You looked up finally and nearly dropped your glass. Levi Ackerman... you've definitely heard of him, not only has Y/h/n mentioned him many times, you've also saw that many everyday objects have 'Ackerman' written somewhere on it.

You kept eye contact with him short and sweet, taking your hand from his and smiling at the both of them. His wife was gorgeous, the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. They were a bright green. Plump lips that were dabbed with a little blush red color that matched her cheeks. A full set of crystal clear teeth. Long lashes that seemed to be natural with a slight flare of mascara.

You were slightly more interested in her for a breif second until you realized that you probably should start talking right now.

"Hi! I'm Yuki- uhm I mean you already know my name but still hello!" She nervously smiled and held your free hand with both of hers. Looking at you with a gleam of admiration as if she's been dying to meet you her whole life. You smiled back at her and set your glass down. "It's wonderful to meet you, wow- you're so gorgeous..." You said halfway losing your train of thought.

She laughed lightly and brought her hand up to her mouth to not come off as too 'teethy' she then held onto Levi's arm and glanced at him. "Thank you! This is Levi- he's not much of a talker but I assure you he is nice too."

You broke eye contact with her and looked at him. His glare was peircing into your eyes as you tried to break away from his gaze to continue eyeing his wife but you couldn't. His skin was so pretty, blemish free and flushed with red at the cheeks and very tip of his nose. His lips soft and well taken care of. Eyebrows just the right amount of thickness and cleanliness. His dark eyes dilated once he raised his head just a bit to have a clear look at you. A smirk formed on his face, he quickly changed it to a smile as he most likely forgotten where he was at right now.

Strands of his hair were in his sight of vision hiding the view of where his eyes were traking to, leaving your husband and his wife utterly oblivious to his greedful gaze.

This moment seemed to last forever for him. He hadn't seen you at all in person but your name was burned into his memory. If he had known that Y/h/n had a wife like this by his side, he would've showed up to every single dinner party he invited him to just to steal a look of you.

There wasn't particular parts of your appearance that he could point out to consider above all attractive, he was staring at all of you. Your intrigued expression kept him hooked onto you. You were caught off guard by the extra people walking up to you. He wondered why the hell did your husband think this was the perfect time to ambush you with guests. By the looks of your drink, you weren't planning on being so friendly tonight either.

"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/h/n has spoken so much about you." He lied with a smile and a gentle low nod to you out of respect.

Shit. Why were they both attractive? Are they swingers? Was this just some ploy to get you to swing with them? You wouldn't decline if it was. You didn't know which one you wanted more. Her, or Him... although Levi had a problem with his eyes being on you the whole introduction. Even when your husband brought the conversation to him, Levi was still staring.

In high fashion, his eyes made you worry about your appearance. Was your hair okay? What about your makeup? Did you have something on your teeth and that was why he was staring at you?

The four of you eventually made it to the table after minutes of pointless idol chit chat. You sat next to your husband, across from Levi while Yuki sat across from yours. He had his arm around Yuki's shoulders while she held his hand with hers. Their body language was something you craved. The most touch you and your husband were participating in was a simple knee touch under the table.

Your hands were clasped together in your lap under the table. Fingers twiddling with eachother as you payed as best of attention to the conversation as you could. You were mentally absent, it didn't take Levi not even ten seconds to figure out.

Guessing by the body language you and Y/h/n were presenting. You two didn't have any ounce of physical love for eachother. No wonder why when you'd pretend to fix your hair, your eyes would land on his when you thought he wasn't paying attention to you.

The funny thing was that you were the only thing he could focus on. The only time he broke a gaze was when Yuki would boast about their relationship and want him to look at her. He even went out of his way to steal a few kisses from her to make her claims of their love legit.

You coughed into your arm as you watched Levi's head turn. His jawline was so potent and sharp. The perfect slimness to still be seen but not be too much. His hair was freshly cut too, a crispy undercut. You glanced at Yuki, her hand lifting to hold Levi's shoulder as she kissed him softly. They giggled with eachother and whispered sweet nothings inbetween aswel. You needed a drink. Bad. The strongest drink you could ever have too. You glanced at the bar and noticed that you left your cup over there from earlier.

Shit. Would it be bad if you slipped away right now to get it? Hopefully Levi and Yuki won't think that you're leaving because their public affection was making you sick.

You glanced at your husband. He was busy looking at the menu rather than paying attention. With the conversation dwindling away he eventually put his attention somewhere else. You turned your body to step out of your seat but stopped and stared much more intently at Yuki. She kissed Levi for one last time before breaking her lips from his to ask him for something. He nodded, his veiny hand lifting to kiss her ring finger softly. "Sure. Give me a moment." He stated softly to her which made her bite her lip gently and run her finger through the back of his hair.

Your mouth was watering now. Not only you desired the taste of alcohol on your tongue, you also wondered how good she felt to know that she had the right to run her fingers through his undercut at any point. Dammit, get it together. Stop staring at them like this. You look like a pervert.

Yuki's eyes glanced at you once Levi turned around to get up from his seat. You stood up quickly and froze for a moment. She smiled at you while mouthing 'sorry' apologizing for her and Levi being 'too close' thinking maybe it was awkward for you to see. You nervously laughed and nodded at her then proceeded to walk away.

Your body told her that you were already on your way to get up so she didn't think much of you and Levi heading in the same direction. She then moved her hair out of her eyes and opened the menu to see what to order.

____

That was close. You almost lost it back there. Your glass from earlier was gone because the bartender cleaned it up which meant you had to order another one. What did you have again? You didn't even know. You ordered that drink so randomly that you didn't care to memorize the name so you could order it again if you liked it.

As you leaned on the counter a man walked up next to you, a stool was in the middle of of the both of you for space. You glanced over and it was sure enough Levi. He saw you and made a double take. Wondering why you were even up here. Before he could say anything stupid he realized that you were waiting at the bar. Clearly you were up here for a drink like everyone else.

"Hello again. Are you going to order first?" He asked with a concerned tone. The bartender was staring at both of you, their hands on the table as they waited for direction. "Who me? Oh no no I'm fine. I don't know what to get." You shrugged.

Who me? Yes- of course you. He's only staring at you right now. Who else was he talking to? A fucking fly on the table? Dammit your mind is foggy right now. You can't think straight and it's his and his wifes' faults.

Levi then ordered for himself. You didn't hear him considering you weren't paying much attention again. You watched the bartender bring up three glasses from under the table and line them in order. "Three rounds of Shōchū, third round done heavy coming right up." The bartender said.

"Third round heavy? Who's that for." You asked. He chuckled and turned his whole body towards you, leaning on the counter just like you and speaking up. "It's for you. I can see a stressed out person who needs a drink from a mile away. I'm the same way, guessing by your hands right now. You're extra nervous." He said.

Yeah no shit man. It's because you and your wife are very sexy together and apart.

"Really me? No I'm fine. Honest!" You laughed him off but he didn't budge. "It's fine. You don't have to lie. The drink is on me. In fact-" He turned to the bartender briefly. "Make the first just as strong as the third, thanks." He said clearly then turned to you once more.

"You keep saying that so your brain will believe it, yes? You don't have to do that with me. I get it. Public spaces make me feel on edge too." He shrugged still trying to get his point across.

You sighed and glanced at the table where you were sitting. Both yours and Levi's partner busy with eachother in conversation. You then glanced at him and sat in the bar stool chair, making sure to not fall thus making a fool out of yourself. The drinks Levi ordered were done and was slid over to him, he held the first cup and slid the third to you as he sat down in the chair next to you.

"I've never tried Shōchū, I'm more of a Sake person or I'll just drink beer- although that's rare of me because it's hell trying to find the best beer vender." You said while staring at the brown liquid in the glass, unsure if you should take the gulp.

"I don't even drink that much. I have black tea mostly. I only ordered myself a shot because you look like you need a drinking buddy- Yuki usually gets this." He shrugged and held the small glass out to you for a cheers.

"Yeah... you don't look like a drinker either." You said as your eyes glanced at his fingers, ignoring the golden band on his ring digit out of reflex. Such strong hands... Jesus... what a man he is...

"Oh? So you've been thinking about what I look like? Didn't think I'd be in your mind that quickly." He smirked while lifting a brow. Fucking tease. What is he smirking so many times for? You brushed off his statement and clashed your glass against his. Then cocked your head back and gulped the strong shot in less than a minute.

He drank his shot along with you and felt the sting of alcohol touch the back of his jaw. He winced along with you and felt his lips burn with numbness. His mouth watering as the taste was stronger than expected. He coughed a bit into his arm and cleared his throat. Glancing up at you to see that you were licking your lips, feeling the liquid on your bottom lip and taking the buzz with pride.

"That's so strong- I can't even fathom the taste..." You mumbled lowly but felt your nerves settle as your stomach burned with warmth that spread through your arms and legs, bursting out of your finger tips. Oddly enough the buzz transform inbetween your legs. Great- you forgot dark liquor arouses you over time depending on how much you drank. Your eyes met with Levi's as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and crumbled the tissue up. You stared at his lips for a moment, then at his hands. This time staring at his ring.

He noticed your eyes and trailed down to your clevage that was on full display in your dress. His lips pressing together and hand lifting to hide his growing smirk that was followed with a pleased 'Damn...' your finger traced the rim of the glass and brought attention to your hand. He saw your ring and memorized every detail in it. Your name was engraved in the silver band. He remembered his and set his glass down to tug at his own ring, making it seem like he was rearranging the tight fit but in reality. He wanted to take it off.

"Refils please?" You said to the bartender. Glancing at your cup along with Levi's. They gladly obliged and gave you two the same refill with the exact amount of strong dosage.

You then lifted your cup to his and smiled at him, uncrossing your legs and bringing your right one over the other instead. This movement brought attention to your soft thighs until you cleared your throat. "Cheers." You simply said which made him mindlessly bring his cup to yours. The small clink of glass was a nice sound you were familiar with hearing. Both of you took shots and quickly enjoyed the sting together. You were disgusted by it at first but now that you were relaxed, it didn't feel as bad.

You stared at his throat as he took the last gulp. His adams apple was strong and perfect. A deep sigh left your lips as you slammed your cup down, sliding it to the bartender needing another shot. Your brain was fuzzy with thoughts you should be ashamed to have. This moment was pleasing in many ways, not only you had Levi's attention on you and nothing else. You got to check him out in peace without being careful to not gaze too hard. You glanced at the table again and saw that Yuki was gone. Most likely at the bathroom.

"What did you cheers to?" He asked while clearing his throat again. "To luck. In hopes that both of us get really lucky tonight." You said keeping your meaning vague and hopping out of the chair.

He watched you as you walked off heading to the table again. Your hips swaying side to side, bringing attention to your body. He pulled on his tie thinking it was too tight and coughed lowly. Was it getting hot in here or was he just working up a sweat.

Get lucky? What did you mean by that? And why did he want to find out, badly.

____

It was hard for you or Levi to focus on the double date by now. You were over sitting here acting as if you didn't want to tearl him apart and rip his clothes off. You didn't care about anything else, just him and the burning pleasure blooming behind your clitorus. Your thighs squeezed together as you sighed and poked at your food. Enjoying what you had ordered but not going out of your way to eat it. You wanted something else in your mouth rather than this meal.

You watched Levi as he sipped his wine and licked the excess away. Bringing his fork up to his mouth and taking a bite of his steak. Yuki was closely knit by him, her fork making it's way onto his plate and taking a nice cut. She smiled at him and took the bite, he used his napkin to wipe his mouth but dropped it. He didn't want to be the customer that left a mess for the staff to clean up when he was able to clean it himself. He then ducked under the table and looked around to grab the white ball of tissue.

Just when he was about to reach out. You uncrossed your legs, revealing that you were wearing royale blue panties. He stared for a second longer then froze once you extended your leg out to brush up against his under the table. You brought your foot up and down his leg two times to make your pass more obvious to him. He then brought his head up from under the table and groaned while clearing his throat again. He put on a fake yawn and tossed his napkin on the table. Seeing you take a bite of your food and make a statement to your husband to tell him how you enjoyed your meal. Acting as if you didn't just make a risky pass at him.

Yuki then set her fork down and opened the menu again. Her eyes staring at the dessert section of the book. "Oohh Levi we should take some desert! What would you like?" She asked with a smile.

"Thank you for the date... you're such a good man~♡"

Levi heard you mumbled praises to your husband along with Yuki's question. He didn't want to answer her because he was too busy on hanging on every word you said. He turned his body to Yuki and placed his arm on the back of her chair. His eyes glaring at you though as you turned Y/h/n to face you, initiating a makeout session with him, sloppily kissing him and gasping into his mouth. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he caressed your arm, humming a response and chuckling at your sudden act of affection.

What was this feeling Levi was experiencing? Was it. Jealousy? Why? He can't feel jealous, you're married. Wait- HE'S married. And his wife is sitting right next to him. Why is he more focused on you than anything else. And how did you know? Your eyes opened as you stared right at him, giving him a look out the corner of your eye and stopping the kiss to smirk, allowing your husband to make kisses on your neck.

"Levi? Do you want carrot cake? That's your favorite still right?" Yuki asked making a suggestion. "Hm? Oh yeah- sure carrot cake... you know Yuki I'm exhausted... I think I'm going to call it in for the night." He said while fully looking at her.

She nodded in understanding and flagged the waiter that walked by. Asking him to get them dessert for to go and turned back to Levi. She remembered when he told her that he was tired earlier, he must need to lay down now then. "You know tonight was really nice. It was a pleasure to meet you two and Y/n! We should get to know eachother outside of this little meet up. You seem to be very sweet. Levi's tired and I'm almost getting there along with him." She said while placing her hand on his chest and caressing the back of his neck.

"Oh? Leaving so soon? You know what Y/h/n, we should go too... I have a long day tomorrow now that I think about it."

"Shit yeah- it's late. I have a meeting to hold tomorrow aswel."

Perfect timing. Now Levi could get a breather, he couldn't be in this restaurant anymore. Especially not with you eye fucking him from across the table while having a smile on your face.

____

When you got home Y/h/n was still lagging behind at the door. You kicked your heels off and unzipped your dress while looking in the mirror on the wall and uncliped your bra. A deep sigh leaving your lips as he rolled his eyes, stuffing his phone in his pocket and spoke up. "I got to go to the office, they need me to do some paperwork I dunno how long I'll be." Your interest was peaked, another night where he'd be somewhere else? Leaving you to be in your own bed?

"Can't you say no?" You said with an annoyed tone. "If I could I wouldn't even have told you, what do you care? You want me to stay here so we can argue? I'll pass." He said with a scoff.

"Whatever, just go if you're going to have a stick up your ass." You crossed your arms and placed your bodyweight on your left leg.

"I have that pain because of you."

"Well atleast one of us is having some company." You mumbled to yourself.

He didn't have time for your attitude so he left quickly and slammed the door behind him. You rolled your eyes and walked up to the window, watching him get into his car and pull off since the car was still on. Good ridense, the less you have to see him. The better.

You followed his car with your eyes. Making sure he was gone for sure. If he was going to pull back in it would've been right away. He was gone though, you were finally alone and knew it would be the same thing like every other night. You then grabbed your heels from the floor and walked upstairs, holding onto the railing tightly to successfully make your way to your room. That was until you heard a loud knock on the door. You turned around, dropping your shoes and heading back down.

You didn't even look out the window to see who it was. You opened the door and there stood Levi, his suit still on but tie ruined as he was struggling to take it off. He stood in your doorway, heavily breathing and staring into your eyes. His car was outside, he drove here that quickly? Whatever. Who cares about the logistics of the situation.

He stepped into the house without asking. You backed up, waiting for him to be inside so you could close the door. Once the door was closed you turned around again but this time was grabbed and pinned to it. Levi groaned and held your wrists over your head while tightly squeezing your jaw to turn your head so your neck was exposed. You whimpered at his assertiveness and started to yank at his suit jacket.

He allowed you to undress him, your dress was lazily on your body since you already unzipped it. Although he could have took it off correctly, his mind was making things hard for him to comprehend. He needed you and didn't care how hard he had to work for it. So he ripped off your dress and tore it from your body, leaving you in just your panties he saw earlier in the night. You pulled his tie, popping the buttons to his shirt and watching it fall off of him as there was nothing keeping it together.

Both of you managed to take things to the couch. He allowed you to push him down and get onto his lap, straddling him while you undid his belt while biting down on your lip and tossed the name brand piece of leather somewhere in the room. His eyes were glued to your bare chest, he quickly thought next and wrapped his dominant arm around your waist. Bringing his lips to your nipple and sucking on it intently while groaning, his tongue flicking up and down, side to side and in circles. He grunted loudly and used both hands to hold your breasts, bringing them together and flick his tongue inbetween them. Letting out a prideful moan and feeling your hips buck onto his lap as you held the arm of the couch.

You whimpered loudly and pushed his head down for him to stop. He allowed you to be rough as you got off of his lap, grabbing his hands to make him stand up. He groaned and held your jaw, bringing your eyes up to his and crashed his lips into yours while plopping down on the couch with you right alongside him to get his pants off. He watched you as you hurried up to get him undressed. Your fingers slipping passed the waistband of his breifs, your eyes looking at him hoping he'd allow you to go further. He nodded and moved his hips forward, a tent was forming by now. He wanted you to see what you did to him.

He needed you to see every inch of his body. This whole night was intense, he couldn't hold it back anymore. He needed you more than he wanted to and he had no regrets about what he was going to do. All he could think about was you.

You brought down his breifs as he raised his hips off the couch, planting his feet into the floor and watching your intrigued expression as his erection swung up hitting him in the stomach. You held his thighs and licked your lips, feeling the desire to have him in your mouth. This is much better than what you had at the restaurant. You held his inches in your hand and planted a kiss on him, he moaned lowly and held your hair in his hand so he could keep full eye contact with your lips as you showered his cock in wet prideful kisses.

You continued on for a moment until he grew bored and wanted the real thing. He lifted your head up with force, yanking your hair and making eye contact with you. Holding his erection in his hand at the base, slowly stroking himself while you nodded to him. Biting your lip and brought him into a makeout session while simotainiosly pulling your panties down from your hips. You straddled him once more, his hand holding your hip and inching down to give your ass a harsh slap. You moaned with a smile, wrapping your left hand around his neck and using your right to align him with your entrance.

He groaned while pushing his hips forward, his pulsating tip stretching you apart with every inch he slid inside of you. You moaned and nodded again, holding back words knowing they would be filled with lust. He threw his head back and slammed down your hips so you'd take him in completely. Both of you chocked on words and stayed still, attempting to fathom the act of becoming one. You moaned and grabbed his hands with yours. He watched you while carefully keeping his hips still. He stared at your hands as they held his. Your ring was on the same hand as his. He broke the hold with you for a moment and tugged at his ring like he did earlier in the night.

This time not ashamed to take it off instead of pretending like he was 'fixing the hold' of it. He tossed his ring on the coffee table, leaning forward but wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you from falling. You held his broad shoulders, staring at him the same way you were all night and wrapped your arm around his neck. He looked up at you, making vivid eye contact and biting his lip.

"Take it off." He simply stated and stood up, his hands scooped under your knees with a tight hold as he changed his footing to prepare himself for how he'd do this. You nodded with no questions and pulled your ring off aswel, tossing it to the floor rather than the coffee table. You looked over to the floor, seeing that the impact broke your diamond making your ring fall in two pieces. Levi then grunted and began to bounce you up and down his shaft, his hips thrusting forward in a steady rhythm to bring moans out of you. You whimpered while wrapping your other arm around his neck, throwing your head back and nodding.

You let out moans faster than you'd like to. Your fingers locking together on the back of his neck as he groaned with low moans while staring down at his hips as they slammed into yours, your clit brushing against his pelvis feeling his pubic hair brush up against you just right. Making you moan again and cry out loudly.

"Fhuuckkk MeeEee~"

Your words egged him on as you tightened around him. Your walls sucking on his shaft and squeezing pre-cum out of his tip. His hips thrusting faster now fucking the liquid up against your cervix. He threw his head back, becoming more loud with his sounds of pleasure and egged you on with his words. He sounded like he was taunting you rather than encouraging you. You didn't care what he meant, his voice was so sexy. You couldn't stop wanting him to be louder. "Uh-huh... aghhfuckkk~ take me all the way in that pretty pussy. You love it don't you? Yeah?" He questioned with his ego taking more control over him. You nodded and clenched around him again. "Yess yes! Huhhhh~ ughh yess! Right there- L-l-l-leeevvv-vii~♡"

He nodded and groaned loudly. His legs were giving out already, he then stopped and changed places to bring you down onto the coffee table and held your waist in his hands while you made sure to keep your legs open wide. You moaned while rolling your eyes back and held onto your ankles, now biting your lip and bringing your gaze back to him. He lifted his head up to stare down at you while letting out sloppy moans and random sentences. You smiled up to him, using your elbows to prop yourself up to stare closely at him and rest your legs on his shoulders. He then leaned into you, pressing his forehead on yours and staring much more intently at you to keep the eye contact. Your moans forcing his hips to penetrate you deeper and much more close to the back of your urethra.

"You're so tight- god dammit- and so fucking wet... aghhh thaaank youuu~♡" He whimpered uncontrollably while unable to break eye contact with you. You held the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and of course feeling the stubble of his fresh undercut. Funny how you were thirsting over the simple thought of how it must've felt and here you are hours later experiencing it for yourself.

Your clit wouldn't stop throbbing. You felt too good. With the liquor still roaming in your system and him penetrating closely to your g-spot quicker than your husband ever could. You definitely felt words that you shouldn't say festering deep within you. You threw your head back to break eye contact, knowing that you couldn't keep this up. Those eyes... those same eyes from earlier that he used to examine every part of your face and truly see into you, not just what was outside but what was inside too. You didn't want him to look inside you, you knew that you were definitely a piece of work on the inside.

How much of a good person could you truly be? You were committing the worst crime a person could ever commit. Adultery... in which a person who is married goes against the contract of marriage and has sexual activities with another that wasn't the one they were wedded with.

You moaned again as you tried to stop thinking about the future of your choice. You didn't care but deep down knew that you should. Levi then slowed down his thrusts, yanking your hips off the coffee table and bending you halfway. Keeping your legs on his shoulder and lowly groaning while giving you deep, slow, sensual, and Intimate thrusting strokes. He had found your g-spot and didn't stop stimulating it. He wasn't thrusting into it, more so brushing up against it with the curvature of his shaft and using his tip to dig inwards. Stimulating your body in ways you didn't know possible.

Your nipples and clitorous began to tingle in unison. You couldn't deal with this pleasure but your body wanted more of it. Your blood was warming up and heartbeat was racing. As your clit tingled your legs extended out while still on his shoulder, making him chuckle as he grabbed them and pinned them to the table. Scooping his hands under your knees once more like before and picking up speed just a bit, you were moaning but you also were trying to hide how good you were feeling. Purposely placing your hands on your mouth to muffle your sounds as your eyebrows furrowed and eyes were little to closed.

"Say my name. Fucking moan my name Y/n." He demanded with a groan.

You denied him and shook your head in disagreement. You couldn't moan his name again, if you let out anything else you knew exactly what would come after. You can't... don't say anything to him... don't look into his eyes- don't moan his name- Don't Give In.

He threw his head back and groaned. Using his right hand to apply pressure to your stomach and continuing to stroke your g-spot but with a much more consistant steady speed. He knew for sure that his deep strokes from earlier would make you scream, but you're too busy acting like you can't. "Say my fucking name. Say it... what's my name? Tell me?" He repeatedly said with a light tone instead of demanding you. His hips rolling into circles to message your deepest hard to reach areas. You began to cry, he watched your eyes well up with tears as he thrusted. A smirk on his face by now taking pride in himself. "Say my name. Go on, say it... who's so deep inside you that you're on the verge of sobbing out of stimulation? Don't you feel it?-" He then pressed into your stomach more than once. "I'm so deep inside you that you can feel me in your stomach. I'm not stopping until you tell me what my name is baby."

You finally moved your hands from your mouth and allowed your tears to fall. Where was he all those years ago when you were about to get married? Why show up now when you could've been the one who was his wife. You could've had his last name instead. You wanted to be his wife, you wanted to be his everything. Your emotions were making this much more important for you. You needed him. You needed him... you needed-

"Levi! Levi!Levi!Levi!Leviiii! Leviiii! I Need Youuu Leviiii!~"

Tears rushed out of your eyes as you couldn't think anymore. Letting go of the guilt and remorse you held onto from a few moments prior. You felt your orgasm creeping around the corner. You knew it would be a big wave of arousal, you couldn't fight it. You wanted him to make you come. You were going to come weather you wanted to or not.

A few more strokes to your g-spot had your mouth open agape. You were about to let out another shameless moan until he brought his hips back and slipped out of you. A groan and slippery popping sound filling the room. Before you could react to him with annoyance that he stopped, you felt his tongue swipe on your clit.

You stared down at him and saw his head resting inbetween your thighs as his tongue did all the work and flicked back and forth. Making slippery licks on the sensitive bundle of nerves that felt like it was going to explode. You moaned again, both of your hands on the back of his head as you forced more of your clit into his mouth. Head thrown back and hips raising from the table out of reflex. Your toes curled as he lapped up his tongue on every inch of you instead of just your clit alone. He sloppily licked and sucked on your entrance, using his fingers to spread you apart and keep you exposed so he could devour every part.

"Hmmlsshhhhh sshhoo wheehhttghh~ anthh hwtheett~" He spoke into you while bringing his eyes up to yours, glaring up at you while you cried out his name again and pulled his hair in your hands.

("Hmmlsshhhhh so wet~ and sweet~")

"I'm coming- I think? Ughh I don't know anymore... thaannkk youuu~♡"

With those words Levi then proceeded to lift his head from your thighs and brought his tongue out to lick his lips until he stared at your expression. Needing to have his lips on yours no matter what. He called out your name which made you look at him with a dazed expression. He held your face and brought his lips onto yours, forcing you to taste yourself and in fact confirm that you were sweet. You moaned into his mouth while placing your hand on his chest. Other hand wrapping around his neck again to bring him closer.

The kiss broke eventually and there the both of you were. Out of breath, sweaty, utterly turned on, and almost at the edge of orgasm. "I need you." You whimpered, holding his face with your right hand hand and caressing the apple of his cheek with your thumb. "I need you too... I wanted to fuck you ever since we started talking at the bar."

"I wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you... you turn me on so much Levi~" You encouraged and brought both arms around his neck to keep him close. He kissed your neck on the same spot your husband did. For some reason his lips felt much better, his canines dragging across your skin as he wanted to bite you and leave a hickey but knew that would be risky.

You moaned and felt the back of his neck again, whimpering his name and begging softly into his ear.

Your words encouraged him to take you off of the coffee table and onto the floor. He laid on his back while having you on top of him. Your arms still hugged around his neck while he aligned himself back up to your dripping used entrance that was pulsating and clenching around nothing as you desired to be stuffed again.

"Look at me. Just like that baby. Rock your hips for me- aghh fuck- Nghhhh... j-just like- thaaatt~"

You leaned upwards and placed your left hand on his knee for support while your right one was placed on his chest. You moaned loudly while throwing your head back and bouncing yourself up and down his shaft while allowing your entrance to meet at the base of his cock. This time he moaned and whimpered for you to keep going. His head thrown back as he tried to keep his eyes open so he could focus on your perfect body. Your breasts were his favorite part of you. He couldn't take his eyes off of them even if he tried to stare at the bulge in your stomach as you rode him. He softly whined but covered his mouth. Trying to hold onto his composure until you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the floor on both sides of his head. You made eye contact with him while rotating your hips in circles and nodded down to him while placing your fingers in his mouth, encouraging him to suck them.

You bounced your hips up and raised them all the way until his tip was inside, then swirled your hips in a circle before sliding back down and grinding your hips in various ways. Levi groaned and sucked your fingers, he felt ashamed by doing this but the greedfull smirk you gave while looking down at him felt- rewarding?

"Ughhh-hhhhaahhhff~ s-st-stop~♡" He gasped with a whimper while feeling a pleasured tingle in his balls.

"You feel so good inside me~♡ don't you love how tight I am... speak up for me Levi~"

His ego wouldn't allow him to be submissive towards you. But he was already drunk off of you. Tasting you early in the way he did and managing to get you to moan his name made him proud. He desired you the more he watched you ride him.

"Fffuck m-mee... please- f-fuck me..." He begged while getting out of your hold and snatched your hands up into his. The two of you made eye contact once more. Low soft moans left your lips as your hips came to a stop, giving him the opportunity to thrust into you while letting your hands go and placing his hand around your throat, gently squeezing while you nodded and leaned upwards once more. This time throwing your head back and bucking your hips back and forth, in a circle and clenching yourself around him.

"I'm closeee~ haaaahh~"

"Mhm... I want you to come on my dick... can you do that? Please come on my fucking dick baby~" He whimpered uncontrollably and squeezed his hand tighter. You held his wrist gently and nodded, letting out small moans.

The eye contact you two kept was intense. Not only you were feeling it, he was too. All he could think about was you. Just seeing you and feeling your insides was all he wanteded this whole day. He knew from the moment he laid his eyes on you that he would risk everything going for him just to have atleast one night with you. He didn't care about his marriage or the life he'd have after, according to him this was heaven.

You moaned again but this time stopped your hips. You moaned softly while leaning down to him, holding his face with you right hand and having your other hand pressed on the floor. Both of you paused for a moment, his arms wrapped around your waist while you bit your lip and laid a soft kiss on his lips. You were an amazing kisser, he could taste your juices along with the strong alcohol you had earlier in the night. He kissed you again, this time pulling your bottom lip in his teeth and tilting his head to the side for better leverage. You ran your fingers through his hair tugging lightly and feeling his stubble.

You broke the kiss for air and held the side of his face once more. He pressed his forehead onto yours to continue eye contact and soon leaned up while having his arms around you. "I don't care about anything else but you right now." He lowly spoke to you in your ear and held your ass in his hands. Bouncing you up and down and groaned. You put your hands on the floor for support while he picked up the pace, thrusting faster into you with force and moaning loudly. "Yeah? Mhm... you make me feel so fucking good... I'm going to come soon-"

"Good... keep looking at me until you come- your eyes are so beautiful. I can't look away from them. I don't want to look away."

Levi glanced over his shoulder at your ring. It was broken from when he told you to take it off, he groaned in annoyance as he thought about how your husband treated you all night. He didn't even look at you or talk about you once. You clearly were being neglected in your marriage with him and it pissed him off to know that a women like you wasn't being taken care of.

That feeling of jealousy tried to resurface but then he remembered that he was the one inside of you right now. Making you moan his name and feel good all throughout your body. Y/h/n didn't deserve you, he did. You shouldn't have to be drinking everytime when in public with him to get through the night. You also shouldn't be in the arms of another because he wasn't doing his job as your husband.

Yuki didn't cross his mind at all. He glanced at his own ring but felt nothing towards it. If anything he was relieved to not have that charm of regret on his body. He wasn't thinking about the future, just you and him. How good you felt around him and how you had your hands on his chest, nails slightly digging into his skin as you softly whimpered. "Leviiii~ I'm so close~"

You turned his head so he could face you, finding his lack of eye contact a bit annoying. He brought you back down to the floor and wrapped your legs around his waist, now deeply stroking your g-spot like before and groaning loudly while staring into your eyes again. He buried his face into your neck and moaned your name while rutting his hips into you knowing that he'd finally come. Your legs locked him in place, back arching and head throwing back as you moaned his name for the last time.

He grabbed your hands and squeezed them again. His knuckles turning blush red as the pleasure running through his body was overflowing. "I love you! I'm coming! AghhFUCK-"

Woah. You hope he knew that you wouldn't be saying that back. Although it did make you feel good to hear him say it. Along with the fact that he said it first.

He continued to tell you those words like a broken record while his thrusts became sloppy and undone. You moaned for the last time as a knot formed in your stomach and exploded faster than you could take your next breath. That same warmth rushing through your body like before and bursting out of your finger tips. You cried out his name once more before wrapping both arms around his neck to keep the closesness.

Levi groaned and pulled out of you, his cock bursting with come and instantly covering your stomach. The cold air engulfing his sensitive, dwindling erection draining and slowly while also becoming soft. Heavily breathing until you looked up at him. You allowed him to bring you into his arms and hold your face, sloppily kissing you while you came down from your high, whimpering into his mouth and taking your legs off of his waist.

____

You and Levi didn't depart ways just yet. Instead the two of you laid together on the couch while you had the faux fur throw blanket over the both of you. His arm was around you while you rested your head on his chest, playing with his left hand hearing his calm heartbeat in the process.

"So what now?" He said breaking the silence and glancing down at you.

"I don't know. That was- something..." You leaned upwards and watched him as he grabbed his ring from the coffee table. Staring at it with a look of disgust and sliding it back on his finger. "Guess it's back to reality then. Look- let's keep this between us alright?-"

"Yeah of course. What? Did you think I was going to tell Y/h/n the second I saw him? He doesn't have to know." You dryly said then got off the couch, using the blanket to cover yourself up while Levi grabbed a throw pillow to place on his lap. He watched you in awe as you grabbed your ring, sliding it on your finger and picking up the diamond as it broke earlier.

"Shit. I'll have to get this fixed." You said with an annoyed tone.

The silence was starting to become unbearable. 'Back To Reality' he says... it's easy for him to say when there's actually love and physical attention present in his marriage. Reality set in that Levi didn't truly belong to you. Instead he was Yuki's husband. Just seeing them sitting across from you was heartwrenching, it made you jealous on many levels. You wanted to experience love while being married. You hadn't felt that in a long time and the lack of affection was making you bitter and cold.

Both of you were already married to other people and this little rendezvous was over. Sex with him was actually amazing. But you wouldn't tell him that at all. You just wanted to be in his arms forever, but you can't... because He's Not Yours.

You looked at Levi as he was face-palming by now, pinching the bridge of his nose in stress and glancing up at you. "I called in a favor at work so he'd be out of the picture tonight. I didn't want things to end without me seeing you... especially after what you did at the end of dinner, all night... I couldn't just shake you off you know." He stared at the floor once you turned around to try eye contact with him. He didn't know what he was saying or why he was even saying it.

"All that just to have sex with me? Don't you think you doing that would be suspicious if this ever got out? And what about your wife. If I was her I'd be up at any hour to see you walk through the door." You shrugged and wrapped your body up with the blanket.

"Why won't you divorce him? Aside from what we did- it's clear that you aren't happy with him. He's a jackass, I saw it the whole night... you were eyeing Yuki and I everytime we'd share a kiss or anything remotely intimate." He called you out because he had to know why on earth would you settle. It angered him slightly to know that you put up with him.

"I don't know. Levi you should go, he could come back and your car is outside still. It's time we get back to reality remember?" You deflected while watching him fiddle with his ring again.

"I want to see you again." He asked, his voice softening with his words.

"We're married. We can't see eachother openly, don't go falling in love with me now. This is a one time thing."

God damn you were in denial. You knew this wasn't going to be a one time thing. You craved the level of intamcy Levi provided for you. Why won't you admit it already. "I'm not falling in love with you. But you know that this won't be a one time thing. I should go now... I have work, I also hope that tomorrow is one of those days that you choose to show up and remind everyone that Y/h/n is married. Certain people seem to need a reminder."

You didn't say anything as he grabbed his clothes and quickly got dressed. He sighed heavily and stepped into his shoes while looking back at you. He was about to say something but you weren't looking at him to notice. You were too busy having a mental fight with yourself. Stop being so dry and atleast hug him before he leaves- you do want to smell his cologne... and second thought... he smelled amazing the whole night.

You then walked up to him and placed your hands on his shoulders. He wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted a brow, wondering what you were going to do or say. You landed a kiss on his lips, holding his jaw and turning your head to the side. Your tongue slipping into his mouth slightly before he turned towards you aswel and leaned back onto the wall. His hands attaching onto your waist, tempted to take the throw blanket off of your body.

Your hands slid down to his chest again. You pushed him away from you so you could breathe and also gain composure again. Levi pressed his lips together feeling the desire to kiss you again and not stop. He bit his lip slightly and chuckled while running his fingers through his hair, remembering that he had to go. "Goodnight to you too Y/n..."

[rosella35]

Kaleb's Bad Day: Part I

*clears throat* It's been a while, G/T community!

I don't get as much time for writing anymore with my uni degree in its final years, but this is a one-shot I've been working on for an obnoxious amount of time now based on a prompt I got a while back: What if Kaleb, my borrower character, shrunk in class?

To set the scene since the last time I updated Borrowed Courage was in 2022 *sobs*, Kaleb and Brooke live in a world where the borrower race was discovered 10 years ago and unbeknownst to humankind, many borrowers use a drug called "Upsize" to temporarily grow to human size and blend into society. This one-shot is canon but probably won't be added to the main story for timing reasons. It's set roughly 2 months after Brooke first discovered Kaleb's secret identity as a borrower.

Part II will be up tomorrow - I hope you like!

Content warning: contains angst, swearing and nudity (not graphic).

****

“Alright. For the rest of today, I want you to work independently through the exercises in chapter two of your textbooks. I’ll be floating around if anyone has any burning questions.” Mr Bell instructed the class. From his seat at the back of the room, Kaleb gritted his teeth in frustration. On any other day, he would be more than happy to follow his teacher’s instructions; learning about human history was one of the things he’d enrolled in school for in the first place. From a young age, Kaleb had been fascinated with the way the giants that owned the world had came to be that way, while his kind— the borrowers— had spent their lives hidden away in the shadows. Today, though, he was only half paying attention. Kaleb ran his hands through his scruffy brown hair, finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the incessant pounding that seemed to reverberate all the way from his skull to his fingertips.  

Something was off. 

It wasn’t uncommon or him to be getting headaches from going consecutive days using Upsize, the drug that allowed him to attend human school at five feet nine instead of five inches tall. Even so, they hardly ever set in this early in the week, and were never an issue unless he was moving around too much. This one felt different. It had barely set in twenty minutes ago and was already driving him crazy. With a pained sigh, Kaleb tried to preoccupy himself with opening his textbook to the designated chapter. It felt weird to consider, since borrowers didn’t get sick nearly as often as humans did, but… maybe he was coming down with something.  

From the seat adjacent, Brooke Tucker glanced up from her own work to frown across at him. “Are you good?” She whispered, leaning forward with her hand on her chin. 

Kaleb immediately stiffened, surprised she’d even noticed his discomfort. Am I that obvious? “I don’t know.” He said uneasily. “My head is killing me.” 

The human girl’s brow creased in concern, an expression she rarely ever directed at him. If he weren’t so distracted by the pain, Kaleb probably would’ve been flattered. “Could be a migraine.” She suggested, before adding in a lower voice. “Do borrowers even get those?”

“Yes, we get migraines.” He whispered back, rolling his eyes. Since she’d discovered Kaleb’s true identity back in September, the human girl had made it her mission to find every opportunity to tease and mock him about being a borrower. Still, Kaleb couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something about this particular headache felt familiar. No way. That’s impossible. He dismissed, turning back to his textbook. “It’s probably nothing.” He assured her.

That was when he felt it.

BADUMP. 

A sudden wave of pain reverberated through his body, making him sit bolt upright in his desk like he’d just stepped on a live wire. It was a sensation Kaleb knew all-too-well, because he’d experienced it every afternoon after school for the past four years. 

His Upsize was about to wear off. 

“Shit.” He hissed, feeling the colour drain from his face. His mind reeled, struggling to make sense of why this was even happening. It was like one of his worst nightmares come to life. He should’ve had more time. He always had more time. Had Rodney messed up his dose? 

Kaleb ground his teeth together, forcing himself to focus. There was no time to dwell on the ‘why’. He had to get out of sight, and fast. 

BADUMP.

The room spun as he was hit with another rapid full-body ache, and Kaleb almost collapsed out of his chair. He felt himself start to shiver uncontrollably, the primal fear of being seen overwhelming his senses. “Kaleb, what the hell’s going on with you?” Brooke’s voice echoed somewhere beside him. “You’re making a scene.” 

Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit. Kaleb didn’t have to look up to know that the whole class was staring at him, a tingling feeling that sent his borrower instincts to flee into overdrive. He glanced across at Brooke, gazing unblinking into her judgemental grey-green eyes like they were his lifeline. In that moment, he made a decision.

“Why’re you staring at me like that, it’s creeping me—”

“Come with me.” Kaleb blurted out. 

That was all the warning Brooke got before he’d clamped his hand around her wrist and launched out of his seat, dragging her along behind him. 

“Sorry Mr Bell, we’ll be right back!” He announced in a rush of adrenalin, practically stumbling out the classroom door. Brooke, who had been too bewildered to react to their sudden exit, finally came to her senses as they entered the empty hallway. She ripped her hand out of his grasp, ears reddening in second-hand embarrassment from what had just gone down.

“What the fuck was that about?” She hissed, though her expression shifted to concern when he leaned heavily against the wall several paces in front of her, clutching his head. For the first time, Brooke noticed the raw, unsuppressed fear in his eyes.  

“I can explai—” Kaleb started, but broke off with a startled yelp when he felt the shrinking process finally kick in. He could only catch a glimpse of Brooke’s startled expression before the ground rushed towards him and he was swallowed up by his human clothes that were suddenly hundreds of sizes too big. Within the span of a few seconds, he found himself back at his original five-inch-tall height and buried beneath the course folds of his t-shirt, chest heaving from the lingering adrenalin and body frozen in terror as the reality of his situation dawned. 

Brooke, having witnessed the whole thing, did a double take. “What in the—” One second Kaleb had been standing there in front of her, and the next… Her eyes fell to his unoccupied pile of clothes, and she swore, realising what had just happened. 

“Kaleb? Brooke? Is everything okay with you two?” She froze at the sound of Mr Bell’s voice from inside the classroom, his footsteps growing closer and closer.

Panicking, Brooke scrambled to scoop up the bundle of Kaleb’s clothes, quickly locating the squirming figure buried within, and shoved them behind herself. The second he felt her fingers close around him and lift him blindly into the air, Kaleb’s heart leapt into his throat. He shivered involuntarily, the sensation of powerful human hands around his entire frame serving as a stark reminder of how little control he had over their current situation. All he could do was make himself as small as possible in her grip and trust Brooke to handle things with the teacher. 

“Y-Yep!” The human girl said, turning around just as the Mr Bell poked his head out the classroom door. Her hands tightened protectively around Kaleb’s smaller form under the clothes, feeling his tiny heartbeat flutter like a bird’s against her fingers. She cleared her throat awkwardly in attempt to compose herself. “I mean… actually, Kaleb wasn’t feeling well. He went ahead to the nurses office, but would you mind if I go too? J-Just to make sure he’s okay.” 

The teacher gave her a strange look, and Brooke held her breath, waiting for him to notice the bundle of Kaleb’s clothes behind her back and effectively blow her cover story. After a moment though, Mr Bell’s expression softened to concern. “Oh, of course you can.” He said with a nod. “I hope he feels better soon. Don’t worry about missing the rest of the lesson. I’ll email the two of you supplementary work later today.”

She managed a strained smile. “Thank you.” 

The moment he disappeared back inside, Brooke took off down the hall, her mind stalling on what she was supposed to do next. There was no way she could actually take Kaleb to the nurses office without exposing him, and it would be too suspicious if she just up and left the building in the middle of class. She cursed. There was really only one place that would give the two of them some privacy, which made her uncomfortable even thinking about, but Brooke didn’t really have a choice. 

Resigned to her fate, she made beeline for the girl’s bathroom. 

Locking herself inside a cubicle, Brooke let out a relieved sigh. She sat down heavily on the closed seat of the toilet, turning her attention to the bundle of Kaleb’s human clothes in her lap and the tiny muffled voice she could suddenly hear through the fabric. “Can’t breathe—!”

Eyes widening, Brooke loosened her hold around the clothes. It seemed silly now, but in her haste to get to somewhere private, she’d almost forgotten that Kaleb had been with her the whole time, buried underneath the layers of denim and cotton.  She was about to reach in to try and pull him out, when she realised that somewhere amongst the folded material, Kaleb was not only borrower-sized but naked. Face heating up at the thought, Brooke sat back against the toilet and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Okay, you’re safe to come out. We’re alone.” 

Sure enough, it wasn’t long after she’d spoken that Brooke noticed a miniature head of scruffy brown hair poking out through the of one of the t-shirt sleeves as Kaleb revealed himself at last. He blinked rapidly in the harsh fluorescent lighting, scrambling to cover himself with his blanket-like clothes. Without his usual shirt and tan jacket combo, he seemed almost smaller than usual, his bare shoulders slim and pale and his breaths short and fast. Fragile was the first word that came to mind. Intuitively, Brooke knew that compared to humans, borrowers really were fragile and vulnerable, but those were never words she’d associated with Kaleb. Now though, he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that his entire body trembled like a scared animal in her hands. 

That didn’t stop her from glaring daggers at him. “What the fuck, Kaleb!” She hissed. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” 

Kaleb flinched instinctively, his hazel eyes shooting up to meet her now much larger grey ones. Brooke’s angry expression faltered. Shit. He looked terrified— even more so than the time she’d found him on the apartment roof all those weeks ago. She swallowed, turning away uncomfortably. That look in his eyes… It didn’t suit him at all. 

The two of them didn’t speak for several minutes, awkward silence permeating the cubicle. Kaleb took that time to try and compose himself, his full-body tremors slowly dissipating as he tried to calm his pounding heart. It wasn’t easy to do by any means, but he appreciated Brooke’s patience. Finally finding his voice, he tilted his head to meet her eyes. 

“S-Sorry.” He said, holding the material of his shirt around his nude frame with white knuckled hands. He licked his dry lips. “No one saw… did they?”

Brooke sighed, making a conscious effort to shift to a gentler tone of voice. Now probably wasn’t the time for their usual teasing banter. “No.” She reassured him. “Just me.” 

Kaleb visibly relaxed at that, minuscule shoulders slumping under the thick material of his shirt. “Thank god.” He breathed, almost too quiet for her to make out. So he hadn’t been seen by anyone else in the class. Just knowing that was enough to ease a significant portion of his built up anxiety. With a clearer head, Kaleb finally paused to take in his surroundings, and his jaw immediately dropped when he caught sight of a toilet roll as long as he was tall. “What the—” He exclaimed, looking up at her with an aghast expression. “Is this the girl’s bathroom—?!” 

Brooke held back a snort as his tiny face turned beet red with embarrassment. Much more like the Kaleb she knew. “You didn’t exactly give me much time to think of a better place to go.” She pointed out, sitting up straighter on the toilet seat. “And while we’re on that topic, what the hell happened to you? Isn’t your wonder drug supposed to last the whole day?” 

Kaleb flinched at that and peered down at his smaller form, pathetically dwarfed by the clothes that had fit him perfectly less than ten minutes ago. Already, without the disguise that was his human height, he was starting to feel like the fraud he was; just another borrower trying and failing to carry himself with the same level of confidence and liberty as a human. “I-I don’t know.” He mumbled. “Maybe my uncle messed up the dose.” He wrapped the the fabric of his shirt sleeve tighter around himself, feeling more exposed than ever. “This has never happened to me before.” 

“Clearly.” Brooke said. “If I hadn’t been there to cover for you, you’d’ve been screwed for sure.” 

She felt him shiver at that fact, almost making her regret her choice of words. “You’re right.” Kaleb looked up at her again, his expression earnest. “Thank you, Brooke. Really.” 

Brooke blinked. That was unexpected. She shifted in her seat and looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blush. With their current size difference, that was unlikely. “I-It’s fine.” She said. “So, uh… what now, then? Do you have any more Upsize you can take?” 

Kaleb pursed his lips. “I don’t keep any spare pills at school.” He admitted quietly, shuddering again despite the course fabric around him. “With Upsize, you need to wait at least an hour after shrinking before you can take another dose. It’s supposed to give the medicine a chance to leave your system, kind of like a cool-down period.”

“Right, of course that’s a thing.” Brooke sighed. She tried racking her brain for an alternative solution. “Well then, can someone come get you? Surely Evie would. I bet she’s bored out of her mind back at the apartment without having me to spy on.” 

Instead of laughing at her poor attempt at a joke, Kaleb looked horrified. “I can’t just leave early!” He exclaimed. “I’ll miss maths next period. Mrs Crowley said she’d be giving out final exam tips today!” 

Brooke couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re kidding.” She started, holding back a disbelieving laugh. Looking closer at his tiny, pleading features though, her smile faded. “You’re not kidding.” She deadpanned, groaning. “Come on, Kaleb. How the fuck are you supposed to come to class like this? You don’t even have any clothes!”

Kaleb’s cheeks heated up and he pulled the shirt sleeve a little tighter around himself as he was reminded of his current nudity. “I can get clothes.” He insisted, his usual confident demeanour returning in full force. “I have a spare set in my locker. Climbing gear, too.” 

Brooke would have face palmed herself if her hands weren’t still cupped around his tiny frame. She regarded him quizzically. “Well that’s great, but isn’t your whole thing supposed to be not getting seen by the rest of the class?” 

Kaleb shook his head. “I don’t have to actually come to class. You could just, y’know, let me off into the air vent and I can listen in from there.” He suggested, giving her a clumsy shrug from amongst the bundle of clothes. 

Brooke just stared down at him, completely lost for words. “You’re crazy.” She muttered. “You’re actually fucking crazy. You literally almost shrunk in front of our whole class, and now you want me to just let you go off into the walls so you can catch some stupid exam tips?” 

“Brooke.” 

She didn’t hear him, her voice rising in annoyance as she continued. “And then what? Am I supposed to just stay back and look for you after class, like that’s totally not suspicious at all?!”

“Brooke.” 

“Ugh!” She wanted so badly to bang her head into the cubicle door. “Why do I even get myself into these situations? I swear, ever since I found out about you and your stupid little secret, my life’s been a fucking disaster—!”

“BROOKE!”

She broke off with a start at his exclamation, caught off guard by how loud he’d managed to sound despite his obvious disadvantage in size. Brooke bit her lip, breathing heavily through her nose. She almost jumped when she felt a slight pressure on her thumb. Kaleb had reached out to touch it with his much smaller hand, stroking the digit in attempt to reassure her. “You good?” He asked. 

“Y-Yeah.” Brooke replied weakly, her mouth dry. She didn’t want to say anything but the feeling of his tiny hand on her finger felt so… weird. Kaleb almost never initiated physical contact with her when he was borrower-sized.  

He nodded, meeting her eyes again. “I’m sorry.” He said with obvious embarrassment. “I got a bit ahead of myself there. I guess I just thought you’d want me out of your hair so you could get back to class. If you can help me to my locker, I’ll call Evie to come pick me up, and I’ll just email Mrs Crowley about the exam later.” 

Brooke sighed at his words, a much simpler solution coming to mind that she was probably crazy for even suggesting. “Or you could just come with me.” She pointed out, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement when he blinked up at her. “What? Did you forget we have the same maths class?” 

“Come… with you?” Kaleb repeated, looking thoroughly unconvinced. “As in, on your person? Where would I even go—?” His broke off, eyes trailing upwards to the chest pocket of her oversized denim jacket at the same time hers did. His face lost several shades of colour, and he shook his head firmly, despite knowing deep down that he might not have any say in the matter. “No way. No way. I’m not gonna sit in your pocket all day like some house pet, Brooke! That’s just… that’s just embarrassing!” 

The human girl smirked down at him. “Well, would it be any more embarrassing than being tiny and naked in the girl’s bathroom?” Her hand inched up to ruffle his hair teasingly. “I mean, unless you’re secretly a pervert?” 

Kaleb swiped at her already retreating digit. “I’m not a pervert!” He snapped, pointing his own diminutive finger up at her accusingly. “You brought me here, not the other way around!”  

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” She giggled. “You’re always so easy to work up like this.” 

Kaleb bristled. “Yeah, well can you blame me? When I’m like this, there’s five extra feet of you to piss me off!”

“Fair point.” Brooke smirked. “So, what’s it gonna be then?” Her hands edged closer around him, as she impatiently tapped her foot against the tiles. “I can’t just keep sitting on the toilet for the rest of the day.”

Kaleb sighed, turning his gaze downwards in defeat. He had to admit she was right about that. Stalling was only prolonging what they both knew had to come next. “Fine. I’ll come to class with you.” He hesitated. “Just… can we please get my clothes first?” 

Brooke looked at him, shock evident on her face. Did he really believe that she wouldn’t let him get changed? It was humbling to think that with Kaleb like this, without his bag or climbing gear, he was essentially putting his life and his autonomy in her hands. Just knowing that made Brooke soften her voice ever so slightly. “Um, yeah, of course. There’s no way you’re coming with me in the nude. That’s fucked up.” 

Kaleb breathed a sigh of relief at her reassurance, offering a grateful smile. “Okay… Well, in the meantime, could you grab me a piece of toilet paper? To cover up, I mean.” 

Brooke blinked, glancing across at the roll beside her. Hesitantly, she tore off a small strip of toilet paper between her thumb and index finger and handed it down to him. Kaleb took it, ducking under his sleeve for a moment to tie it around his waist like a towel. He looked down at his handiwork, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’ll do.” He muttered to himself, letting the oversized shirt sleeve fall away so that he was standing at his full five-inch height in her cupped hands.  

Despite herself, Brooke almost did a double take when she saw his bare chest for the first time. There was no denying it; Kaleb was ripped. The thought had never occurred to her, but considering his active lifestyle, she really shouldn’t have been as caught off guard as she was. A little more of a tan, and he could’ve belonged in a body building magazine. She tore her eyes away before he caught her staring, but that didn’t stop her cheeks from heating up. 

She coughed. “Right. Ready to go then?”

“That depends.” Kaleb smirked knowingly. There was really no way he could have missed a stare that size. He took a bold step forward in her cupped hands and flexed his muscles tauntingly. “Did you want a closer look?” 

“W-What?”

“Who’s the pervert now, huh?” He teased, throwing the label right back at her.

“Shut up!” In that embarrassment-riddled moment, Brooke reacted in the only way she could think of. She poked Kaleb harshly in the chest. Like always, he staggered backwards with a yelp at the impact, but this time neither of them had taken proper stock of their surroundings. As if in slow-motion, Kaleb tripped over the folded clothing behind him, simultaneously jostling free the poorly secured knot holding up his toilet paper toga. All hope of modesty gone, he fell flat on his back with his legs gracelessly splayed… within full view of the human girl holding him. 

The two of them stared at each other in silent shock for several seconds, and Brooke wished she could bleach her eyeballs. Instead, she opted for the next best course of action.

“AHHHH!”

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 ✧

𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧, 𝐚𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫:

“There is absolutely no way, Y/n.” James scoffed, crossing his arms. “I am not going to wear pink to go watch some stupid movie!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, James? You can’t wear a colour to make your girlfriend happy? It’s just for a couple hours. It won’t kill you, I promise.” 

“What if I die? I refuse to die wearing pink. That is just appalling.” He argued.

You couldn’t believe James’ dramatics. You glared at him, turning around and storming into your bedroom. “I’ll go alone, then!’ You shouted, slamming the door.

You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, trying to ignore the annoyance in your mind. When it was time to leave, you headed for the door without James. As soon as you reached for the doorknob, his voice called out to you.

“Wait up for me, Y/n.” He said, putting his hands on his hips sassily.

“I said I’d go alone, since you’re being a big baby-” You began, turning around to be met with James in a hot pink t-shirt. A smile spread across your face immediately.

“Well? Let’s go, or we’ll be late.” He tried to conceal his grin at your reaction, offering you his hand. 

“Pink is definitely your colour, James.” You teased, taking his hand.

“Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤:

The two of you were sitting on the couch together. Sirius had his laptop in his lap, scrolling through tickets. You were sitting next to him, watching the screen. 

“There! Those seats are good.” You pointed, Sirius swatting your hand away.

“Hey, no fingerprints on my screen.” He quipped, selecting the tickets. “These are for 6:00, so you should start getting ready now.” Once he reserved the seats, he shut his laptop, placing it on the coffee table. 

“So should you. You take the same amount of time to get ready as me, Sirius.” 

“You’re right about that, Y/n. Come on.” He stood up, taking your hand and heading into your shared bedroom.

“By the way, you have to wear pink. It’s mandatory.”

“Mandatory? Why?” He questioned, looking at you.

“It’s Barbie! What do you mean, why?”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry I even asked.” He chuckled, opening his closet.

When it came time to leave, you had already been waiting on the couch for ten minutes prior. “Sirius! Hurry up!”

He came out of the bedroom, wearing a pink shirt with a pink cowboy hat to match. “I’m ready."

You laughed, looking him up and down. “You really didn’t hold back, did you? Don’t you think the hat is a bit much?”

“Much?” He looked at you as if you had just said something extremely offensive. “Don’t worry, love, there’s one for you too.” He went back into the room, coming out a few moments later with a matching hat for you. He walked over to you, putting it on your head. “There, now you’re ready too. Let’s go.” He offered you a quick peck on the lips, taking your hand and leaving the flat.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧:

“Are you sure about this, Y/n?” Remus asked, looking at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a pink sweater that you had bought for him, and he was in deep contemplation. 

“I am absolutely sure, Rem. You look so cute!” You smiled, hugging him from behind.

“The colour is very…bright.” He said, chuckling. “It’s just not my style, that’s all. I love it, so please don’t think that I don’t like your taste in clothing.” He assured you. “I just don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself.”

“You won’t, I promise. Everyone is going to be wearing pink.” You said, letting go of him.

“If you say so. I know that this makes you happy, so I’ll go along with it.” He gave himself one last look in the mirror before turning to you. “Shall we go? I’d like to leave before I change my mind."

You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[andromedabooks]

More Jily bookstore AU. Full one-shot on ao3 !!

Lily leaned behind the counter, idly leafing through a new poetry book. Lily wasn’t exactly one for poems but she tried to enjoy them like she enjoyed a babbling brook, something winding and nonlinear. 

“Seems your literary sophistication knows no bounds.” A familiar, honeyed voice interrupted her poetry. She looked up to see the stranger, James, smiling down at her. He was wearing a corduroy coat with an argyle sweater underneath. His hair looked like it caught some raindrops walking in. 

“I work at a bookstore,” Lily said, smiling up at James-the-beautiful-classics-guy. “I’m supposed to have superior taste in literature and flaunt it in everyone's faces.” 

“Ah, I see. Part of the job description then?” 

“Rest assured, I had a very impressive resume.” 

James chuckled, ���I’m sure. Well, I’ve come to receive another of your glowing recommendations.” 

“So you finished Another Country How’d you like it?” Lily asked.

“I really liked it, it was�� evocative,” James said, brow furrowed with deep thought. “It was just interesting the way that humanity was portrayed in all the gray intricacies. You couldn’t shy away from the bad parts, he didn’t let you.” 

Lily smiled up at him with what she hoped was a reasonable amount of admiration. Intelligent, eloquent, he would probably be infuriating if he wasn’t so damn attractive. “Well done. You must’ve been a good student.” 

James’ head tipped back as he laughed. “No,” he said. “I was an absolute pain in the ass. Anyhow, I believe I require a new recommendation.” 

Lily had been preparing for his visit for the past week. She didn’t want to admit how much time she’d spent tailoring recommendations for this man she never even knew would return. “In the mood for something like Another Country or something completely different?” 

He tilted his head to the side like a dog who was asked a question. “Like it. But maybe a bit happier” 

“Ah, I have just the thing,” Lily reached behind the counter and pulled out the next book, setting it in front of him with a thunk. “Now I will warn you. My mother read this to me when I was a kid. So if you don’t like it I will be personally offended.”

James picked up the copy of Little Women by Louisa May Alcott and examined it. “Duly noted. I hope not to disappoint you, Lily.” 

He smiled the kind of bright smile that she wanted to bottle up for later, and he turned to walk back into the rainy street.