#so i just make eye contact with them occasionally in hopes that they remember me
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my school campus is literally so big it qualifies as itâs own town, has a hospital, rcmp, high school, and elementary school and yet i run into the same 4 people on a regular basis (have not spoken to any of them, they donât know i exist, i know their names and hobbies purely by accident)
#im always like âi should just talk to them and maybe make friends!!â#but then what if i come off as creepy for knowing stuff about them from listening in class and scrolling through student introductions#so i just make eye contact with them occasionally in hopes that they remember me#and they never do
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All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]
Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.
Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby
----
You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmateâsomeone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something youâve always dreamed of.Â
But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.
Everyone, except for you.
Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.
And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.
Logan Howlett.
You canât remember a time where you didnât feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.
You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people whoâve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasnât yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.
Jean Grey.
She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you werenât. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be togetherâthe stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart.Â
You remember the day it happened so vividly, itâs almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew youâd lost him.
It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldnât deny they seemed perfect for each otherâjust as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.
Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it.Â
The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory.Â
Logan was never the same after that.
 â
You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. Itâs been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.
As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallwayâa low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you arenât needed. Itâs all so routine now.
Lost in your reverie, you donât notice the figure walking toward you until itâs too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.
âOh, sorryââ you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.
Itâs Logan.
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him inâthe man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like heâs been through hell and back.Â
You hadnât seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a missionâanything to stay distracted.Â
But now, looking at him, thereâs something different off. Something you canât quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe itâs the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe itâsâoh.
Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below youâno longer a mural of greyâradiates colors you canât name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-
You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but heâs already turned, walking away from you.
âGive me a fuckinâ break.â
----
Brown. Loganâs hair is brown.
After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.
You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Loganâs hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.
Brown.
You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.
Why him? Why me? Why now?
You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You canât stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.
The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. Itâs like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.
Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. Youâre in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansionâs grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.
It doesnât make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You donât want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you canât just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life.Â
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.
Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasnât noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didnât want to talk to you then, and he probably doesnât want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward.Â
The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours.Â
âWhy are you here?â he asks accusingly.
You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that heâs in front of you, you are at a loss of words.
Loganâs eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. âYou shouldnât be here.â
âI needed air,â you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. âI just needed to clear my head.â
âWell, find somewhere else to do it,â he snaps, âI donât want company.â
âLogan, Iââ
âDonât,â he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. âDonât start. I know what youâre gonna say, and I donât want to hear it.â
You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. âWhat are you talking about?â
He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. âYou think I donât know whatâs going on? God, I⊠this is all so fucking stupid.â
Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. âI wasnâtââ
âEnough!â he barks, his voice echoing in the night. âIâm not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, itâs not real. Itâs just some stupid trick of the universe, and Iâm not playing along.â
His words hit you like a physical blow - like youâve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. âI donât understand. I didnât mean for any of thisââ
âYeah, well, neither did I,â he snaps at you, âAnd Iâm not gonna sit here and pretend like thereâs something here,â he gestures between you two, âwhen there isnât. Youâre not mine, and Iâm sure as hell not yours.â
The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, heâs not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over.Â
After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, âOkay,â you whisper. âI understand.â
Loganâs expression doesnât soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.
âGood. Then stay away from me.â
You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much heâs hurt you.
âIâm sorry,â you murmur, barely audible. âI didnât mean to make things worse for you.â
He doesnât respond, doesnât even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.
You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.
â
When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word heâd thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. Itâs causes pain unlike anything youâve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.
If he doesnât want you in his life, youâll accept that. You have to - itâs not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street. Â
You canât force him to feel something he doesnât, canât make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, donât you? You canât even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another?Â
Youâll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you werenâtânoâyouâre still not sure heâll ever be whole again.Â
And youâwhere do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?
â
Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadnât. You knew you werenât on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.
His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when youâre in his vicinity. Heâs leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. Itâs as if youâve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. Thereâs only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: donât tell anyone.Â
Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction.Â
It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you donât care.
But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everythingâdespite the rejection, the coldness, the angerâyou still love him.Â
And thatâs the cruelest twist of all.
So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as youâve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and youâll be able to move on.
â
The only person you tell is Charles.
âWhatâs on your mind, my child?â he asks one day, while youâre sweeping the dust in his office.Â
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know heâs just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldnât even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you donât yield to his probing.
âNothing, really,â you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesnât reach your eyes. âJust⊠tired, I guess.â
Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade youâre trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does.Â
âIâm here to help, whatever the burden.â
You want to groan. Itâs not like heâs doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like heâs trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered.Â
âI know, Professor. But⊠itâs nothing you need to worry about.â
âYou forget, I worry about all of you,â he replies gently. âItâs in my nature.â
The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. âItâs just⊠complicated.â
âComplicated doesnât mean you have to face it alone.â
You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering youâre in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?
âItâs just⊠I donât know how to make sense of it, Professor,â you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. âEverythingâs so⊠wrong.â
He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. âWrong how?â
Knowing that youâre teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts.Â
âLogan⊠he⊠we⊠Itâs not supposed to be like this, is it?â you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know heâd get the gist.Â
Understanding dawns in Charlesâs eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth youâre struggling to voice. âThe bond you share⊠itâs more than you expected, isnât it?â
You nod, feeling the tears well up again. âBut he doesnât want it. He doesnât want me.â
The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like youâre a lost puppy. âLogan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and itâs not surprising that he would resist this new connection.â
âSo why me?â you ask. âWhy bind me to someone who will never love me?â
Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, âI wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether itâs meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important⊠that remains to be seen.â
âIt feels like a punishment,â you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it. âEvery day, it hurts more. And he wonât even look at me. I donât know how to make it stop.â
âThe heartache youâre feeling is profound, but you must understand that itâs not your fault. Loganâs reaction isnât a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.â
He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.
âTo love, even when itâs not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.â
So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourselfâto try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.
The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. Itâs like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.
Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purposeâthey all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.
The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights.Â
You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. Itâs not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.
Youâre healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your lifeâof your emotions.Â
But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.
One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.
However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights.Â
His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.
âSorry,â you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.
Logan doesnât say anything, barely noddingâif you could even it thatâ before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react.Â
Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. Itâs been so long since youâve been this close to himâso long since youâve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this.Â
Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care?Â
Because you are the only one who does care.
You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but itâs a challenge. Your hands are trembling.
â
It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. Youâre supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambitâs anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didnât take no for an answer.Â
Thatâs how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan.Â
Heâs across from you. Just your luck.
He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while itâs been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you canât help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown.Â
Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, thatâs when you slip up.Â
âI love how you blended the red with the blue!â You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. Youâre too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.
Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. âDarling, I thought you couldnât see colour?â
In any other situation, youâre sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Loganâs eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare youâve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest
âIâŠâ you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.
Rogueâs confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression thatâs impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak.Â
Loganâs gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.
The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you.Â
You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But itâs no use. The emotions youâve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall.Â
âI think I need a moment,â you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.
Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You canât even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.
Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Youâre heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man whoâs mourning the loss of a soulmate?Â
Itâs not fair.
You donât know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.
âMind if I join you?â he asks gently.
You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench.Â
âIâm sorry,â you croak, âI didnât mean to ruin the night.â
Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. âYou didnât ruin anything. Itâs clear youâve been carrying this burden for a long time. Itâs no wonder it slipped out tonight.â
âSo everyone knows now?â you ask. He nods.
âIt wasnât hard to put two and two together,â he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.
âI just⊠I didnât want anyone to know. I didnât want to be pitied.â
âPity isnât what anyone feels right now,â Scott says softly. âWeâre worried about you. Youâve been hurting, and we didnât see it. Thatâs on us.â
âItâs not your fault,â you bring your hands down from your face. âIâve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but⊠clearly I was wrongâ
With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. âI know what youâre going through, more than you might realize.â
You glance at him, surprised by his words. âYou do?â
He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âI was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates⊠it tore me apart. I didnât think Iâd ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldnât.â
The mention of Jeanâs name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but thereâs also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. âHow did you⊠how did you get through it?â
He sighs, âIt wasnât easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.â
You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. âIâve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.â
He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. âIf thatâs what you need to do, I understand,â he says, âsometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.â
Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. âI donât know if heâll even listen to me. Heâs made it pretty clear how he feels.â
âHeâs hurting too,â He decides, âHeâs not handling it well, but that doesnât mean he doesnât care. You both need closure, and running away wonât give you that.â
âWhat if it just makes things worse?â
âIt might.â Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. âBut it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.â
You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. âIâll⊠Iâll think about it.â
âTake the time you need,â he says. âWeâre all here for you.â
âThanks, Scott. That means a lot.â You offer him a small, grateful smile.
With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, thereâs also the thought of confronting Loganâof finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.
You really donât want to do it, and youâre pretty sure itâs just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scottâs words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.
Goddamn it.
You huff as you stand up from where youâre seated. You canât keep running from this, canât keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.
Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly youâre sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. Thereâs no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock.Â
Thereâs a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like heâs done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.
The moment he realizes itâs you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, youâre not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.
âCâmon, Logan,â you press. âYou know we need to talk.â
He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesnât look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesnât push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.
Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. Itâs a reluctant invitation, but itâs all you need.
âFine,â he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. âTalk.â
You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if heâs ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. Itâs suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when heâs standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance heâs placed between is right in your face.
âWhy did you come?â Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.
âBecause we canât keep pretending this isnât happening,â you reply, âWe need to talk about whatâs going on between us.â
His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. âThereâs nothing to say,â he says bitterly. âI told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.â
âItâs not enough!â you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. âYou think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesnât exist, and thatâs supposed to solve everything? It doesnât work like that, Logan.â
He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. âWell what do you want me to say?â he demands, his voice rising. âThat Iâm sorry? That I didnât mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didnât. But that doesnât change the fact that I canât be what you want me to be.â
His words hurt.Â
âI know you told me how you feel,â you start, âbut youâve never let me tell you how I feel. Youâve never given me the chance to say that itâs been tearing me apart.â
A flash of guilt. âI didnât think⊠I didnât think you needed to say it. I already knew.â
âThat isnât fair,â you argue.
âYou donât understand,â he counters, âI lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now⊠now Iâm supposed to just⊠move on? With you? Itâs not that simple.â
âI never asked you to love me, Logan,â you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. ïżœïżœïżœI never pushed for anything more than friendshipâitâs not like you gave me the chance! Youâve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like Iâm nothing more than a burden, like I donât even matter!â
You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesnât apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. âIâm trying to protect you,â he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him
âProtect me?â you echo incredulously. âAll youâre doing is make me feel like shit. Like Iâm worthless. I canât even be your friend, to help you through this.â
You pause. âYou expect us all to know how youâre feeling, but you canât even communicate it.â
Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment youâve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
âI canât be what you want me to be,â he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. âI donât know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like⊠I canât let anyone in.â
Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but thereâs also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection.Â
âYou havenât even tried,â you say softly with a quiet resignation, âYou havenât even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.â
What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But thereâs no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that heâs not going to take that step, too broken to try.
Thatâs when it really hits you.Â
Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start.Â
You give up.
This time, it is you who turns your back on him.Â
âGoodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.â
You donât wait for a response. You donât glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.
âÂ
You decide to go on the mission.
Itâs nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief.Â
The lack of immediate danger doesnât make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.
Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They donât ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, youâre grateful.
âI still think youâre crazy for going solo,â Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. âBut if anyone can handle it, itâs you.â
You manage a small smile in return. âThanks, Rogue. I just need some timeâŠâ
Kitty, whoâs been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze. âWe get it. Just promise youâll keep in touch, okay? And donât hesitate to call if you need backup.â
âI promise,â you assure.
She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small deviceâthe X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out.Â
âHere,â she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. âThis is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you donât need anything, just⊠let us know youâre okay, alright?â
You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kittyâs gaze.Â
âAlright, Iâll check in regularly. I wonât leave you guys in the dark.â
Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. âYouâve got this,â she says, âAnd weâve got your back, even from a distance.â You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express.Â
It almost feels like a walk of shameâleaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you wonât let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport.Â
â
When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athensâthey all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.
The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.
You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know youâre safe and on track. You donât share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.
Then, in a small cafĂ© in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. Heâs a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. Heâs warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.
He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You donât tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, youâre just another traveler, searching for somethingâthough he doesnât pry into what that something is.
As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and itâs nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesnât know about your past, about the things youâre running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You donât talk about the mission, and you certainly donât talk about Logan.
One evening, as youâre both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. âSo, where are you off to next?â
You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. âIâm heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.â
His eyes light up. âFlorence? Iâve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?â
A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance youâve carefully maintained, but another partâthe part thatâs been lonely for so longânods in agreement. âSure, why not?â
â
Back at the mansion, things havenât been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but thereâs a noticeable shiftâa missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if thatâs possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.
His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. Heâs always been rough around the edges, but now, itâs like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, heâs reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if heâs trying to outrun somethingâor someone.Â
In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansionâs gym, trying to work off the restless energy thatâs been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he canât seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.
This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesnât need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other manâs presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesnât slow his punches, doesnât acknowledge Scottâs presence, but he knows why heâs here. Theyâve had this conversation beforeâor something like itâbut nothingâs changed. Nothingâs gotten better.
Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Heâs been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but heâs kept his distance, knowing that heâd only be pushed away. But this canât go onâLogan canât keep doing this, canât keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.
âShe wouldnât want this,â he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Loganâs fists against the bag.
Loganâs movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. âWho?â he growls, not bothering to turn around. âHer or Jean?â
Scott doesnât flinch at the harshness in the other manâs tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, âBoth.â
Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scottâs words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesnât want to hear this, doesnât want to be reminded of what heâs lostâof who heâs lost.Â
Taking a step closer, Scottâs voice is firm. âLook, Iâm not a spiritual person. But I also donât think the universe messed up with this.â
Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesnât want to acknowledge it. Doesnât want to think about what could have been, what heâs been too scared to even consider.
âI know you know how I felt about Jean,â Scott says quietly, knowing heâs breaching a sensitive subject. âLosing her⊠it killed me too. And if I had been given a chanceâa real chance to be with her, to make things rightâI would have taken it. No hesitation.â
Loganâs breath hitches at that. The truth is, heâs been runningârunning from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real.Â
âIâm not saying you should chase after her,â he continues. âBut I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesnât just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.â
The weight of Scottâs words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is rightâdeep down, heâs always known. But that doesnât make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jeanâitâs all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back.Â
Thereâs something else too, something heâs been trying to ignore but canât any longer: the way he feels about you, the way heâs always felt, even if he couldnât admit it to himself. One of the first thoughtâs that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.
Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. âJust think about it,â he says softly. âThink about what you really want. And donât wait until itâs too late to figure it out.â
Logan doesnât respond, but Scott doesnât need him to. Heâs said what he needed to say, and now itâs up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.
The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he canât keep doing thisâcanât keep tearing himself apart over something he canât change, something heâs too afraid to confront.
But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldnât want him to throw away.
With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesnât have all the answersâhell, he barely knows where to startâbut he knows one thing for sure: he's canât run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.
â
Youâve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. Youâve grown to trust him. Heâs never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants.Â
But thereâs always been a small, nagging doubt that youâve pushed asideâa feeling that something isnât quite right. Youâve ignored it, convincing yourself that youâre just being paranoid after everything youâve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.
It isnât until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. Youâre walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.
âI found this place the last time I was here,â Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. âItâs a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. Youâll love it.â
You hesitate, something in his toneâor maybe itâs the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightlyâsets off alarm bells in your mind. Youâve come to trust him though, havenât you? Youâve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldnât lead you into danger.
Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and thatâs when you see itâthe change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.
Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.
Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. âDid you really think I didnât know?â he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. âYouâre a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?â
The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. âWhat⊠why?â you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.
âWhy?â He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. âBecause mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for⊠research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.â
You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. Youâre weak.Â
âYou wonât get away with this,â you say.
âOh, but I already have,â he replies with cruel satisfaction. âNo one knows where you are. And even if they did, itâll be too late by the time they find you.â
With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.
You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold.Â
Location: Florence.Â
Message: Help.
Just as you hit send, Marco notices what youâre doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. âYou littleâ!â he snarls, but itâs too late. The message has already been sent.
His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. âYou think youâre so clever, donât you? But it doesnât matter. Theyâll never get here in time.â
Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. âYou wonât win,â you whisper with the last of your energy.
Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. âWeâll see about that,â he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you.Â
You can only hope theyâthat Loganâwill reach you in time.
â
The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room, and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kittyâs pocket. Itâs the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device.Â
Loganâs head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. Heâs on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. âWhat the hell was that?â he demands, his voice tense with urgency.
Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message thatâs flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. âItâs from her⊠Florence⊠Help.â
Thereâs a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement.Â
Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. âIâm going,â he growls, already heading for the door.
âLogan, wait!â Scott steps forward, blocking Loganâs path with a firm hand on his chest.Â
âGet out of my way, Summers,â He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. âIâm not waiting around while sheâs in danger.â
âWe canât just rush in without a plan,â Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. âWe need to know what weâre dealing with.â
Logan shoves the other mutantâs hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. âShe sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and weâre wasting time standing here talking about it!â
The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Loganâs been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situationâof youâ has pushed him to the brink.Â
âLogan,â Ororo interjects, âWe understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trapââ
âI donât give a damn if itâs a trap!â He snaps, his voice rising. âSheâs part of our team! We canât just leave her there!â
âThatâs not what weâre saying,â Scott tries to reason, but Logan isnât having it.
âThen what the hell are you sayinâ?â He demands, his frustration boiling over. âWhy are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?â
Thereâs a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then itâs Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. âLogan⊠what if⊠what if she doesnât want to see you?â
He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â he growls.
Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. âShe left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two⊠they werenât good. Maybe sheâmaybe she doesnât want you to be the one to save her.â
Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. âFuck that!â he roars with a fierce, protective rage. âSheâs part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I donât care whatâs happened between us, Iâm not leavinâ her there!â
The room falls silent, the weight of Loganâs words settling over everyone. They know Logan is rightâsheâs part of the team, and they canât leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.
Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. âWeâre not saying we shouldnât go after her, Logan. Weâre saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.â
âI donât care,â he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. âIâm going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, Iâm not lettinâ her go through this alone.â
Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. âAlright. But we do this together, as a team.â
Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. âFine. Letâs go.â
â
Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. Youâre in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like itâs filled with cotton, and thereâs a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that youâre restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they donât budge.
And then you see himâMarco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that youâve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game heâs been playing.
âAh, youâre awake,â he says, voice dripping with mock concern. âI was starting to wonder if Iâd given you too much of the sedative. But it seems youâre tougher than I thought.â
You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.
He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. âOh, donât bother trying to speak. We wouldnât want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, Iâm impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.â
He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. âYou know, Iâve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but thereâs something special about you. Something⊠unique.â He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. âToo bad your powers wonât do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.â
Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.
âSuch fire in your eyes,â Marco murmurs, almost to himself. âItâs a shame youâll never see the light of day again. But donât worryâIâll make sure your abilities are put to good use.â
He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. âNow, letâs see what we can do to make you a little more⊠compliant.â
Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.
The X-Men have arrived.
Marcoâs eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. âStop them! Donât let them get near her!â
The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but theyâre no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your earsâRogueâs powerful punches, Scottâs optic blasts, and Stormâs lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but itâs no use.Â
Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. Heâs fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. Heâs coming for you.
But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You canât hear what heâs thinking, but you can see the conflict on his faceâthe way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize heâs unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you donât want him to.
In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesnât waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. âWeâve got you, sugah,â she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. âYouâre safe now.â
You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. Youâre shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but youâre free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.
Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving.Â
And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze.Â
â
Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchangedâstill the safe haven youâve always known.
But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. Youâve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.
Except, thereâs one person you havenât seen. Logan.
His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. Youâve felt his presence in the mansionâheard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboardsâbut heâs kept his distance. He hasnât sought you out, hasnât tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.
Youâve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. Youâve reminded yourself over and over that you donât need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you canât help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.
More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.
Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts youâve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Loganâs hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didnât come for you.
Youâre so lost in your thoughts that you donât notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.
âIâm glad youâre alright.â
The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if heâs not sure how youâll react to his presence. Thereâs a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well.Â
For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. Heâs as rugged and intimidating as ever, but thereâs something different in his eyesâsomething a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question thatâs been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you canât keep it inside any longer.
âWhat happened?â you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. âIn Florence?â
His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesnât answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words.Â
You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but thereâs a part of you thatâs already bracing for disappointment. Youâve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And youâre tired of it. Youâre tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.
Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. âI⊠I hesitated,â he admits huskily, almost in a growl. âI wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then⊠I didnât know if you wanted me to.â
His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotionsâsurprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadnât expected this, hadnât realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.
âWhy wouldnât I want you to?â you ask softly, searching his face for answers.
Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. âBecause of everything thatâs happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought⊠maybe youâd be better off if it wasnât me.â
You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. âLogan, this canât keep being about what you think is best,â you begin. âAnd itâs not about who saves who. Itâs about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.â
He doesnât have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. Itâs like heâs carrying the weight of everything heâs done, everything heâs failed to do, and itâs crushing him.Â
âIâm sorry,â he finally manages to get out. âFor everything.â
You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.
âI know Iâve messed up,â he continues. âI know I havenât been there for you like I shouldâve. But Iâm here now. And if youâll let me⊠I want to try to make things right.â
You know you should be happyâthis is everything youâve wanted to hear from him for so long. But itâs also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it canât just disappear with a snap of your fingers.
âI donât know if Iâm ready for that,â you admit.Â
Thereâs pain on his face. âI get it,â he says, his voice rough but steady. âI know Iâve got a lot to make up for. And I know itâs not going to happen overnight. But Iâm willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.â
âI need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.â
He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. âTake all the time you need,â he says quietly. âIâm not going anywhere.â
âI appreciate that,â With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. âI need time,â you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.
âAnd youâve got it,â Logan replies. âAs much as you need.â
â
Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know itâs necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. Itâs nice.
But Logan⊠Logan doesnât give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesnât push, doesnât pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasnât forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isnât going anywhere.
It starts with the small thingsâthings so subtle that you almost donât notice at first. You probably wouldnât have suspected anything if you hadnât known the kind of person he is. Heâs nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realizeâthe rift he created after Jeanâs death muddling with your memoryâand he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.
In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where youâd be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know itâs him. Itâs in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of itâjust a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, Iâm thinking of you.
Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, youâre tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesnât approach you, doesnât speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just⊠exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.
Itâs in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Loganâone thatâs patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. Heâs just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.
And then there are the little surprises in your roomâsmall, thoughtful gestures that you canât help but notice. A favorite book youâd mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Loganâs hand. Even your plants, the ones youâd worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.
He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what heâs doing. Itâs all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if heâs afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?
At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures donât change anything, that theyâre just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that heâs just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. Youâve built walls around your heart for a reason, and youâre not ready to let them down just because heâs being nice.
But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isnât just going through the motionsâheâs really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isnât just about the snacks or the books or the plantsâitâs about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.
After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. Thereâs no note, no explanationâthere never isâbut you know who left them.
You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. Itâs such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. Youâd forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowersâyouâd mentioned it once, years ago. The way theyâre resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldnât. Itâs as if heâs telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.
And itâs then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isnât just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.
He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jeanâs death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.
So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. Itâs just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.
But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you donât want him to.
He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesnât say anything at first, doesnât ask why youâre here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. Itâs something youâve come to appreciate about him in recent monthsâhis newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than youâre ready to give.
"Iâve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.
"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if heâs afraid of saying the wrong thing.
You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Youâve been⊠different. Doing all these little things⊠I see them, you know."
Loganâs eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That Iâm sorry," he says, with so much emotion. âYou were never a burden to me.â
You swallow hard. "Itâs hard for me, Logan," you admit, "Iâve been hurt before, and Iâm scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, youâll just⊠break me."
He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "Iâd never hurt you again," he says, "Iâd rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."
Thatâs enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That heâs willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.
And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, youâre ready to let him.
You donât say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he canât believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.
The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isnât just a kissâitâs a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "Iâm still scared," you whisper.
"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But Iâm here, and Iâm not going anywhere. Weâll take this slow, darlinâ. Whatever you need."
You nod. "Okay."
Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasnât in years. Itâs a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of loveâa smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much youâre giving him by letting him back into your heart.
â
The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his wordâhe is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadnât expected. The small gestures continueâcoffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.
You can feel the doubts youâve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. Itâs in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. Itâs in the way he looks at youânot with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.
With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because thatâs what he thought he had to do.
With you, he has a choice. He doesnât need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and heâll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.
One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansionâs porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush.Â
âYouâve been quiet today,â he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
âIâve just been thinking,â you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. Itâs a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far youâve come in trusting him again.
ââBout what?â he asks, his voice gentle.
âAbout us,â you say, your voice steady. âAbout how things have changed. How⊠how good theyâve been.â
Loganâs hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. âYeah?â
âYeah,â you echo, squeezing his hand. âIâm not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.â
He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. âYou sure?â
You nod, smiling softly. âIâm sure. Youâve shown me that this bond means something to you, that youâre not going to hurt me. And⊠I want this. I want us.â
Loganâs face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. âIâm glad, darlinâ. Because I want us too. More than anything.â
â
It isnât long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, itâs subtleâsmall things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when youâre around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.
During a training session in the Danger Room, youâre paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on youâmaking sure youâre safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. Itâs a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.
After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.
âWhat?â you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.
Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. âNothing, just⊠noticing how good you two are together.â
Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. âYeah, itâs⊠different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.â
Logan shrugs, but thereâs no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. âWhatâre you guys talking about?â
âJust that itâs nice to see you happy, Logan,â Ororo says gently. âReally happy.â
Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. âYeah. It is.â
More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Loganâs demeanor has shiftedâless brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.
âI must say,â Charles says, his tone warm and approving, âI havenât seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, itâs working.â
And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isnât just the little gestures anymoreâitâs the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.
â
âI never thought weâd get here,â you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.
Logan looks at you, his expression tender. âNeither did I,â he says, his voice full of sincerity. âBut Iâm damn glad we did.â
You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. âI love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.â
His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. âI love you too, darlinâ. I never thought Iâd feel this way about someone.â
You know what heâs trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. âShow me,â you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.
He doesnât need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if heâs savoring the feel of you.Â
You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown.Â
His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until youâre both breathless.
When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each otherâs, youâre both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.
âYouâre everything to me,â he murmurs. âI never thought Iâd get my happy ending, but here you are⊠and Iâm never lettinâ you go.â
You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where youâre meant to be. âAnd Iâm never leaving,â you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.
This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Loganâs hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.
That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if youâre the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, youâre not just in loveâyouâre in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely.Â
And that makes all the difference.
----
a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett fic#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine angst#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#angst#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett angst#deadpool 3#wolverine smut#deadpool#wade wilson#x men#x men movies#logan howlett smut#mcu#marvel#mcu imagine
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Happy 6k!!!! Thatâs so exciting and you deserve it :)
Can I request Bucky & touch starved?
.âïœĄSmall AdjustmentsïœĄâ.
Bucky Barnes x plus size reader
To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you
Warnings: Â touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peterâs arm was almost broken when he grabbed Buckyâs shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place.Â
Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Buckyâs nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.
He saw the friendly touches between them allâ a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldnât help but be envious, especially when it came to you.
You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didnât hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone elseâs (Natashaâs or Wandaâs more often than not). You werenât selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.
âBarnes~ where are you!â Buckyâs lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.
âIâm in the kitchen, doll!â He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.
âI thought I lost that shirt.âÂ
âYeah well donât leave your stuff out if you donât want someone to steal it.â You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.
âI seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.â Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.
âI donât know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.â You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.
âWhatever you say doll.â A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.
âSo⊠we have the place to ourselves today,â Bucky knew what was coming, âwanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?â You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.
âI donât know, I was planning on going for a long run today.â His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldnât pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Buckyâs stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, âHey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course Iâll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.â
You sniffed. âItâs Sam and Dean and you know it. Donât pretend youâre not as obsessed as I am.â The band around his heart loosened.
âYeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?â He fished his phone out from his pocket.
âLike you even have to ask.â You retorted.
ââââââ
You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasnât as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.
Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.
You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.
Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace.Â
Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didnât want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didnât want to move away and give him the impression that you didnât want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man.Â
There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky.Â
Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.
âOh god Bucky Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean to.â You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. âBucky I-â Your voice was thick with tears.Â
You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you shouldâve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.
âDoll,â Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, âIâm not mad.â
âYouâre not?â He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.
âHow could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. Iâm safe with you.â You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. âBesides, I think itâs time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, Iâm way too fucked up for that, but soon.â
âDonât be mean to yourself Barnes,â you scolded, âlots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it yâa know.â
âYeah, small adjustments.â His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Buckyâs thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.
Small adjustments indeed.
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Flirting and Football- B. Barnes
Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely canât remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isnât interested in him basically
The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partnerâs book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.
Sheâs reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, youâd only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises.Â
You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.
She doesnât seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words donât last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.
âThe girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell Iâm the one.â
You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinnâs glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.
âIs he in psychology too?â you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.
âBucky? Oh no,â she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. âHeâs in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.â
You nod. âWow.â
âI know, oh my god.â She fans herself. âDid I tell you he basically won the last game?â
Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. âIsnât it a group effort?â
Quinn rolls her eyes. âWell, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.â
âOkay then,â you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. âI didnât go to the last game, so what do I know?â
Quinnâs eyes go wide. âYou didnât go?â she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. âWhy?â
You shrug. âI had to do something.â
âYou have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But donât fall in love,â she warns with a giggle. âHeâs mine.â
âPromise,â you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. âWell, I have to go. This was helpful, though,â you lie.
âOh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,â Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.
âRight,â you respond, standing. âI hope everything goes well with him,â you say as you walk out.
She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.
Itâs cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruceâs contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.
âI hate you so much right now,â you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.
âWhat? What did I do?â
ââIâll be there!â âHow could I miss studying physics?ââ you mock, imitating his voice. âYou left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!â
âWhat quarterback?â Bruce asks.
âDoes it matter? Honestly?â you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. âYour quarterback wouldnât cheat on you so Iâm assuming itâs one thatâs not Thor.â
âOkay, okay, I know. Iâm sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.â
âWhatever and ew,â you complain. âAnd Iâm already on my way. Iâll be there in ten minutes.â
âWhat? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.â
âDonât worry. The dorm isnât that far and youâre not exactly the most threatening anyway,â you remind. âIâll be fine. â
âFine. Keep me on the line and be careful,â Bruce tells you.
âOf course,â you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that youâre nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. âHowâd it go with Thor today?â
âReally good.â The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruceâs words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he canât hear as he plays with his fingers. âIâm really sorry for leaving you there.â
âYouâre not,â you amend. âBut itâs fine. Iâm glad youâre happy.â
âI am,â Bruce confirms.
âI donât know how you find the time to juggle everything. Itâs kind of terrifying,â you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.
âI know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but itâs the opposite. Itâs not juggling if I have help carrying everything.â
You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. âIâm here.â
âFinally.â You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.
âHey Wanda, Piet.â
Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.
âOkay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?â you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.
âBefore the game? Sure,â he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.
âYouâre going?â you question. âI thought Thor was benched.â
âHeâs off!â Thereâs a whoop you recognize as Thorâs that makes you smile. âWhich is why itâs an important game we need to go to.â
âWe?â you echo.
âWe as in you and I,â Bruce verifies.
âWait, I have to go too? Why?â you whine.
Pietro cuts in, âYou have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?â
You purse your lips and squint at him. âDidnât you guys win last game?â
âStill! Come on, please,â he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.
You search your brain for excuses. âI have things to do.â
âIf itâs not âstay home and binge a series,â I'll let you skip,â Bruce chimes.
You frown as the siblings grin.
âYeah, youâre going,â Bruce declares. âTheyâre not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.â
âFine,â you sigh dramatically. âBut I want it noted that itâs only because I really like cookies.â You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. âIâll see you tomorrow.â Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.
Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. âItâs going to be fun.â
âStanding in the middle of students I donât know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,â you disagree, but she ignores you.
âEven Vis is going,â she argues. âAnd you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.â
You mutter incoherently.
âWeâll leave at three,â she instructs with a smile.
-
âI could be doing so many useful things right now,â you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.
Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise youâd committed to with a hook of your pinkie, youâd sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.
You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although heâd laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didnât want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.
The word youâd been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where youâre slumped with your best friend.
Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts youâd been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. âThis is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.â
You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. âThank you, Thor.â
âOf course! And you all know Bruce, of course.â
There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. âI, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.â
âWeâve heard a lot about you,â another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. âIâm Steve.â He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. âThatâs Bucky.â
You smile at them, nodding. âNice to meet you. Iâve actually heard a lot.â
Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. âReally?â
You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. âI meant Steve.â Steve looks startled. âI saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!â
âOh.â Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. ââMakes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.â
You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steveâs surprise takes a second to process.
âWait, me?â Steve points stupidly at himself. âMy art?â
âIt was amazing, I couldnât let it slip by!â
âI told you,â Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. âI wish you woulda let me go. I couldâve seen the art and met her sooner.â
His friend sends him a furtive glance. âIs this your first time coming to a game?â Steve wonders as he turns back to you.Â
You shake your head. âPietro is my roommateâs brother and Thorâs my best friendâs boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but itâs my first time being back here.â You gesture to the hall. âIâm usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.â
Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.
Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. âWell, I think you should come around more often.â
You scan him for a second. âWhy?â you ask genuinely.
He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thorâs booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. âDuty calls, I guess.â
âSo youâll come around?â He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. âHuh,â he says.
âWhat?â Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Buckyâs features crease in that way, but heâd prefer hearing it from his friendâs mouth.
âJust⊠wondering why Iâd never seen her before. Pretty.â
âUh huh.â Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isnât going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. ââThought it was because the line didnât work,â he finally tells him, catching Buckyâs attention.
âWhatâre you talkinâ about, punk? What line?â
Steve snickers. âAny of âem.â
-
The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.
Why you donât have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but itâs the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle thisâthe attention, the blushing, the flattery.
The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isnât on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Buckyâs actions and sends him an amused look.
You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.
Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.
âHey,â he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.
You return it a pause later. âHey, umâthanksâŠâ you struggle for a second before youâre cut off.
âBucky!â the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes itâs Quinn, the girl heâd gone out on a date with a while ago. âI saw you on the field yesterday,â she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. âYou were amazing.â
âI appreciate it,â he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. âI should go, I needed to talk to her,â he starts, acting quickly. âBut it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.â
Quinnâs fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. âThank you!â
Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.
âArenât you going to ask me out again?â She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.
He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. âYouâre a really great girl, Quinn, but I donât think weâd work out. Iâm sorry.â
âOh,â Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.
âHey again,â he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.
âHey, Bucky.â Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didnât remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. âIt was a good game yesterday.â
âThank you,â he replies easily. âHow was I?â
You cock your head at him. âFine? You⊠were a soccer player.â
Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. âHeâs asking if he lived up to the stories,â he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. ââDoes another pretty girl think Iâm great too?ââ he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.
You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. âStories?â you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation heâs usually welcomed with.
âOh, you know,â Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, âof the âinsane staminaâ and âcould totally carry a busâ variety. You know, the âWinter Soldierâ name.â
Your eyebrows raise. ââWinter Soldier?ââ you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.
ââS my nickname,â Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.
âBucky Barnes, right?â you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. âWhich one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.â
Pietro hoots. âFifteen, baby!â
Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. âYou wound me, doll.â
âI wound you?â you giggle, unable to help it. âThis is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I donât know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.â
Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. âJust digging it in deeper, arenât you? Vixen.â
âOh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?â you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. âYou were fine, Iâm sure,â you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. âOh, youâre seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize youâre in a team, right?â
Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. âAnd me, little flower?â
You roll your eyes. âYou were fast. Like always.â
âThatâs code for âthe best out there,ââ Pietro tells Bucky.
âI think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,â Bucky retorts, turning back to you. ââGot a favorite player yet?â He asks you.
You tilt a brow at him. âOn the soccer team?â
âYeah,â Bucky confirms.
âBased off of what?â You counter.
âAnything.â
âOh.â You think. âThen no.â
Pietro clears his throat loudly.
âWhat if I get you the best seat possible next game?â Bucky offers.
You laugh, shaking your head. âIâm good where I am.â
âShe barely pays attention anyway,â Wanda informs. âAll she does is complain.â
You nod. âAnd I can do that in any seat.â
âAlright⊠what if you wear my jersey at the next game?â Bucky continues.
You raise an eyebrow. âAnd youâre convincing me, right?â
âYou should be swooning right now,â Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.
âOh, my bad,â you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. âOh my, golly! Bensonâs sweaty jersey!â
âBucky,â Bucky grumbles. âBuckyâs sweaty jersey.â
âRight,â you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. âI gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.â You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. âIâll see you guys around.â
âMe too!â Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he canât see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. âHuh.â
A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. âNice work,â he lies.
-
Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but itâs exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.
You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.
Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruceâs contact name.
âThe thing,â you mumble, remembering Bruceâs insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.
âHey, are you ready?â Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.
âSure,â you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is youâre going out with canât be too picky. âReady for what again?â
âThe teamâs win? Weâre going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.â
You purse your lips. âAre we going to a bar?â
Thereâs a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. â...No.â
Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. âThen, yes, Iâm ready. I guess.â
âThat's great!â Bruce praises. âBecause we are outside.â
You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. âWe?â you repeat as you look around, confused. âAre Wan and Pietro with you?â
âTheyâre probably already there. And âweâ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.â
You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.
âYou know Bucky. Heâs not that bad.â
There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended âthat bad?â before you hang up, waving to Bruceâs car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. âHey, doll, you look great.â
âBunny,â you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.
âI donât mind that one.â Bucky winks.
You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize youâll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.
âYou tryna cop a feel? Couldâve just asked,â Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.
âOh please,â you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. âExcuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isnât that great of a driver. Heâs in his twenties and gets night blindness.â
Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.
âNice and safe, donât worry, doll.â
You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you donât lose it. âHowâd you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?â you ask, recalling the nerves with which heâd told you about it a couple of days ago.
âWonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,â Thor replies cheerily.
âYou didnât even need to,â you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.
âDid you get some sleep?â Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.
âYeah, I drank some coffee,â you respond.
âNot the same thing. Not even close.â
You laugh. âIâll be fine,â you promise. âStop worrying.â
âIâm always worried,â Bruce grumbles.
âHey, how was art today?â you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Buckyâs brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.
âYou were right. I was being too judgemental,â Steve sighs. âI shouldâve listened to you.â
âListened to who?â Bucky buts in. âHow did you know Stevie had art today?â he continues, trying to keep his tone light.
âWe talk.â You shrug.Â
âOh,â Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. âDo you?â
âYes.â You nod before actually yawning that time. âIâm sorry.â
âYou should sleep more,â Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.
âI have things to do,â you defend. âI sleep enough, itâs the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,â you defend. âBut if it pleases you, Iâll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.â Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.
âIt will,â Bucky says.
For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.
He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when youâre so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.
Youâre more open than heâs ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he canât stop staring at you.
Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. âSorry.â
âIt's no problem,â Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.
-
The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it werenât so ridiculously important to him.
He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if youâd come before, only to go unnoticed by him. Thereâs a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.
The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen beforeâthough he hasnât seen many looks on your face beforeâbut it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that itâs unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriendâwhoâs been dubbed Visionâis dangerous. Cocky.
You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companionâs reply.
Visionâwho Bucky has heard is never wrongâsure seems wrong in whatever argument heâs just lost against you, and you know it.
âHowâre my favorite geniuses?â Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Buckyâs daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.
âOh, you know, out-geniusing the other,â you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.
âHey Dolly,â he smiles. âI thought you had too many books to read to go out.â
âI finished them all,â you respond. âAnd âDollyâ? How old are you?â
Bucky clicks his tongue. âWhat would you prefer, sweetheart?â
âMy name,â you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. âDo you remember it? I imagine itâs hard to keep track.â
âOf course I remember.â Bucky scoffs. âI donât think I could forget.â
You breathe out a laugh. âRight, Iâd imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.â
âAre you asking me to swing dance with you?â Bucky retorts.
You snort. âYeah, sure.â
Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.
Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. âYouâre ridiculous,â you criticise.
His hand drops and he pouts. âCâmon, pretty please.â
âDo you know what music you swing dance to?â you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. âBecause this isnât it.â
âI need to take advantage of the fact that youâre here, doll. You said so yourself you donât go out much,â he complains.Â
âYeah, this is why!â you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.
âWhat?!â Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he canât make out. When you realize he canât hear you, you give him a pout.
âAnd I was just about to say yes,â you say sadly.
âWhaââ Buckyâs cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. âI have to check that out. Iâll be right back!â he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.
When he comes back, youâre gone.
The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.
-
Youâre in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your bookâs cover. Youâre a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.
You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what youâre reading.
âSo, youâre actually here, huh?â he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. âSorry.â
âWhy are you here?â you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.
âAnyone can come to the library.â Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.
âYes. Why are you here? With me? You didnât know my name until, like, two days ago.â Youâre careful to keep your voice down.
âFirst of all,â Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. âWe met two weeks and three days ago.â
âDid we?â you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.
âAnd, how do you know we donât just have alternating study days?â Bucky points out.
âI am here every day,â you inform. âAnd if that were the case, why would you be here right now?â you rebut. âWhat would you be studying for? Coaching?â
âMaybe I wanted to switch things up,â Bucky defends. âAnd Iâm not studying coaching. Iâm studying biomedical engineering.â
You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. âWhat? Quinn said you were in⊠sports.â
âWell,â Bucky sucks in a breath as if what heâs about to tell you is a revelation. âSoccer is a sport.â
âI know,â you affirm blandly. âBut are you actually in biomedical?â
âYeah,â Bucky nods. âWhat, do you not believe me?â he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. âI must say, Iâm very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.â
âIâm just surprised. Youâve never talked about it before.â
âWeâve talked four times,â Bucky points out. âAlthough I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.â
âYeah, whatâs that about, by the wayt?â you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. âFrom what Iâve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.â
âI wouldnât say thatââ
You laugh quietly. âSure.â
âBut I like you,â Bucky explains, shrugging. âYouâre smart and pretty and you interest me.â
You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. âYou are so much better at this than I thought you were.â
âSorry?â
âAt first, I was like âthis guy? This is the Becky people wonât shut up about?ââ
âBucky,â he corrects swiftly.
âBut I see it now. The charm. Iâm not falling for it, but I see it.â You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.
Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. âWhat are you talking about?â
Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. âOh my god, youâre doing it now.â
âSweetheart, itâs something that just happens naturally, Iâm not doing anything.â
You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. âYou are insufferable.â
âAnd youâre beautiful.â
âAnd youâre ridiculous.â
âGo out with me, câmon,â Bucky urges, smiling now. Itâs stupidly sweet.
You click your tongue. âDates are a waste of time.â
âIâll make it worth it. Promise.â
âI donât have time to go out with guys Iâve talked to four times,â you explain.
âAlright, so if I talk to you more, youâll go out with me?â
You wrinkle your nose. âI donât⊠Iâm not liking where this is going.â
âI will talk to you every single day from now on,â Bucky vows.
âOh, I was right,â you groan. âI just mean you donât know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.â
âI will know all of that,â he pledges.
You laugh disbelievingly. âOkay, Borky.â
A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. âBucky,â he says archly.
-
You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably.Â
Itâs hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.
James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.
He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if itâs a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didnât make you smile so much.
He doesnât get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.
You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because youâre finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.
Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that youâre heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and youâve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.
You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isnât getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. Youâre alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.
Itâs three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.
A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and youâre on the verge of running.
Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Buckyâs wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.
A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that itâs only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.
âYou scared me,â you whisper. âDonât you know not to sneak up on people?â
âI'm sorry,â he replies sincerely. âI didnât thinkââ
âI'm just relieved itâs you,â you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. Youâre far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like youâre standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt.Â
Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. âIâm sorry, sweetheart.â
You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if youâd awoken. He doesnât startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.
âMy computer,â you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.
Bucky doesnât pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones youâd stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.
âI should get going,â you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.
Itâs silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Buckyâs hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he couldâve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.
You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if youâll burst into tears spontaneously.Â
âI was attacked once.â Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. âWalking home from the library,â you explain. âItâs why Bruce doesnât like me walking home alone.â
âYou⊠someoneâŠâ Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. âWhy?â Itâs painfully incredulous.
You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. âI was alone. It was easy.â Whatâs left to say seems painful for you to push out. âHe didnât like me very much.â
âI'm sorry,â Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.
âFor what? You didnât have anything to do with it,â you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
âFor scaring you,â Bucky insists sincerely. âFor the fact that it happened in the first place.â You donât respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.
âIt really wasnât as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,â you palliate. âHe hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.â
Buckyâs frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.
âSo, whyâd you come get me? Howâd you know I was only on my way?â you chime suddenly.
âI wanted to check up on you. You werenât answering your phone.â
You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. âSo you drove to find me?â
âTechnically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so letâs go with it.â Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.
You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. âAh, yes, and thatâs how Barnacle gets âem. Being charming and funny and sweetââ
He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. Youâre already looking at him, softer in your gaze than heâs ever seen you.
He hums inquisitively. âYou think I'm charming and funny and sweet?â
You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. âI thinkââ you inhale in relief. âWeâre here.â
Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.
âThank you,â you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.
You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. âSo, you wanna do that again soon?â
You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. âDo what again?â
He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesnât fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. âIt's the bronze oneâno, the other one. How do you notââ
The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Buckyâs face.
âThanks,â you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after youâve set your things down and heâs not following behind you like you thought he would be. âWhatâre you doing?â
âYou have to invite me in,â he explains.
âWhat, like a vampire?â
He blinks. âYeah, like a vampire.â
You grin toothily. âVuckyâŠâ It drips in an exaggerated accent.
âIt's cold out here,â he reminds.
âMaybe you should go home then,â you suggest.
His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.
âOr. Come inside.â At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. âDo you want to come in? Youâre welcome to.â I want you to.
He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. âReally?â
You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. âYeah. Just come on in already. Itâs cold outside, dummy.â
-
Itâs startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.
Youâd rather not admit it, but itâs hard not toânot when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You canât help the smiles when he âcoincidentallyâ bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.
His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sisterâs favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.
It's infuriating, you think, but you donât mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.
âI like the ocean,â you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen youâd lent him two weeks ago. âItâs the reason why my favorite color is blue.â
His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. ââThought it was because of my eyes.â
You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. âI really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,â you tell him. âAnd mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,â You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.
âI like space,â Bucky offers. âIt's endless.â
You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what youâve given him.
âYou collect those squished pennies, right?â Bucky asks.Â
Youâre startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. âUhâyeah. Why?âÂ
Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. âI went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.â He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. âIt has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I donât get it, to be honest.â
It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. âThank you,â you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. âThis is really nice of you.â
âItâs not big deal,â Bucky shrugs. âI just thought youâd like it.â
Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see itâs time for you to leave. âI gotta go,â you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.
âOkay,â he says. âIâll walk you.â
âYou donât have to,â you begin.
âI want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.â
You nod along. âRight.âÂ
He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.
You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.
âDoes Sam still have your car?â you ask as you leave the library.
âYup. One more week, he says.â
âDo you believe him?â
âWell, heâs been saying that for two, soâŠâ
You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.
Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutiqueâs window. âThereâs a sale at the bookstore!â
âWanna go tomorrow?â Bucky asks.
You nod. âCan we?â
âSure, weâll just leave the library a little earlier,â Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.
âSomeoneâs sure of themselves,â you tease. âYouâre walking me home tomorrow, too?â
âOf course. I have been for months,â Bucky points out with a shrug.
Your jests die on your tongue as you realize heâs right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog youâd pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.
âWeeks,â you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.
âWeeks could definitely be months,â Bucky reasons.Â
You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. âWhy?â
A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. âBecause weeks add up to months?â
âWhy have you been walking me home every day for months?â
ââThought it was weeks?â
âBucky,â you say, a little urgent.
He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms donât let you believe that. âI don't want you to walk alone.â Then, âI wanted to make sure you got home safe.â
Shocked pupils dart around wildly and itâs difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determinationâopen, honest. âThank you.â
He smiles and itâs soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.
Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize youâve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.
âRight. Um, thanks again.â You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.
âWaitââ he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.
You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.
You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.
-
Bucky thinks youâre acting weird.
Noâheâs sure youâre acting weird.
He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. Heâs memorized the genuine curve of your lips when heâs said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesnât know this.
Youâre being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.
He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if youâd fallen in love or something. Youâd scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didnât say no.
Heâs aware heâs a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he canât pretend like it doesnât inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.
He wonders if it clogs words up in yoursâif itâs the reason youâre so quiet.
You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. Thereâs a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you donât completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. Youâre struggling with something but he canât figure out what.
Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.
âWhat?â you blurt. Itâs louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. âWhy are you staring at me?â
âYouâre pretty,â he says honestly.
He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but itâs vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose.Â
âI'm hungry,â you complain, ignoring his compliment.
âI'll buy you something,â Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.
âYou donât have to,â you remind. âI wasnât asking, I was justââ
âI know, itâs fine,â Bucky insists.
âI can pay. Itâs my food.â
âItâs just a meal.â He squints at you. âYou never pass up a chance of food on me.â He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. âAre you feeling okay?â
You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. âYou make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.â
Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. âI will.â He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, âAnd youâre not awful.â
You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.
Arbitrarily, youâre annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.
Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and youâre left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. Youâre being ridiculous; you canât be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.
âThey mustaâ known you were coming,â Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.
You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing youâd never told him what to get. âYou got me cavatappi pasta,â you realize. You look upset.
âYeah?â
Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. âAnd chocolate chip cookies.â Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token youâd never explained to him.
âYeah. Itâs what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because youâre afraid you wonât finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, orâwhat are you doing?â
You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.
âI have to go.â
âWhat? We just got here.â
âI have an appointment.â
âFor what?â
âForâthingsâitâsââ you huff. âI have to go.â
âAre you sure you donât need a ride? I have my car back, you know,â Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.
âI'll be fine, thanks for theâŠâ you exhale sharply. âI'll see you later.â
You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.
Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why youâd rejected him before.
âI hate him,â you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. âI hate him so much.â
âHate who?â Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. âUh.â
âBucky,â you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.
Bruce stares at you.
You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. âHe bought me that. Justâinsisted. He's soââ you sigh frustratedly. âI didn't evenâhe bought me cookies.â
âOkay.â It's long and hesitant. âAnd thatâs bad becauseâŠâ he begins to shake his head. âYou donât like cookies?â
Your shoulders drop.
âYou hate cookies and pasta. You think theyâre awful,â Bruce tries.
âNo! I love soup and cavatappi andâheâs ruining everything! He's such an idiot!â you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.
Bruce examines you for another second before: âOh.â
âWhat?â you snap, meeting amused brown. âWhat?â
âNothing,â Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. âJust that you finally learned his name.â
His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.
âDonât,â you warn. âBruce Bannerââ
âI didn't say anything.â
âDo not think what youâre thinking,â you demand. âHeâs a player and a distraction andââ
âOkay.â Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he couldâve said.
You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend.Â
-
For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. Itâs not a majorly important oneâalthough Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luckâbut you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and youâre too far away to cheer for him.
The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what youâre doing and snap your attention away.
Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when heâd teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.
You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work youâre nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.
You click Buckyâs name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadnât gone as well.
Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself youâll revise when you get home.
The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyoneâs departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.
Your name in Bruceâs voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. âWhatâre you doing here?â
âI finished early,â you explain. âAnd you said the game wasnât going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the teamâs okay.â
Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly theyâre edged white. âRight. The team.â
âUh huh.â
âWell, since itâs the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.â Bruce looks pointedly to the right.
âWhat? Why?â
Bruce shrugs. âI dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since youâre here for the teamââ
âShut up, Bruce.â You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path.Â
You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that youâre real. His hair is damp from the quick shower heâd just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.
âHey, I heard about the game,â you say. âI wanted to check up on you.â
âOh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.â Bucky laughs but itâs not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.
You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. âI brought you something.â
Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what youâre holding. âAre those orange slices?â
Nervous now, you let your arms drop. âYeah. I, uhâfigured theyâd maybe give you a boost andââ You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. âIt was dumb.â
âMy mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,â Bucky mumbles.
You perk up. âYeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe youâd like them.â The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.
He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. âCheers.â
As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.
He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. âI forgot howâŠâ He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.
You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash youâd bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.
You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. âDo you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?â
âYeah,â Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you canât find it in you to care.
-
You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. Itâs cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.
The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down.Â
Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.
Itâs very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.
Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys youâd forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadowâs shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.
You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You couldâve sworn you felt someone else behind you.
Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. Thereâs an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, thereâs the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.
Your eyes promise that thereâs no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.
Buckyâs voice is confused and comforting when he answers.
âI thinkâI think someone is following me,â you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh.Â
âWhat? Where are you?â
âI donât know,â you cry. âIâm sorry, I should, itâs justâI was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I canât concentrate, I canât breatheââ
âOkay, itâs okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?â
You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you canât think, barrelling you deeper into panic. âI canât rememberâIââ
You can hear Bucky open his door. âHey, itâs okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?â
âTo-go,â you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.
âOkay. For you and Bruce or just you?â
âB-both of us.â
âYouâre doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think Iââ
Thereâs a hollow click before itâs silent, the calm youâd been grasping at completely gone. âBucky?â you plead. âBucky?â
You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesnât respond. Dead.
Thereâs a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Buckyâs voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.
You need to get home. You canât move.
You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.
Thump, thump. âO-one,â you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. âTwo.â A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. âThreeâŠâ
Itâs how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. Heâs frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but heâs not, and the relief that youâre solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.
He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.
âItâs me. Itâs Bucky.â
You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. âBucky,â you test. âBucky.â
Itâs a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.
âAre you okay?â he asks too soon.
You make a noise of which answer he canât be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.
You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, âI thought I was really gonna die this time.â Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. âJust for a second andââ Your lips twist to keep words back.Â
Bucky pulls you back in.
âWill you take me home?â
His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.
Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food youâre suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.
Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but thereâs a resolute edge that makes him look at you.
âIâm sorry,â you start, misunderstanding.
âWhy?â
You arenât sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. âFor⊠bothering you. For making you comfort me. Iâm sorry that you had to see me like that."
âDonât apologize.â He clenches his jaw. âI donât want you toâŠâ
He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. âI know that wasnât something you were ready to share with me. I understand, IâŠâ
His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when itâs pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.
You canât help the way your eyes track down his arm. Itâs scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve.Â
âI was in a fire once,â he says. ââGot some scars too.â
âIs that why you wearââ You trail off at his nod. âWhy are you⊠why are you telling me?â you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.
He shrugs. âI donât know,â he lies.
You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. âThank you.â
His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. âYou, too.â
-
Your fingers are wound tightly around Wandaâs arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. Youâre zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.
The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other teamâs goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.
With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you canât help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.
Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.
It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.
Youâre not worried.
Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field beforeââIâm too good,â he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that heâs rightâand the only times itâs seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when youâd gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. Heâs playful when heâs flustered.
So youâre not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.
Except he hasnât moved in a little while too long and you donât think itâs ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you canât take your eyes off his figure.
Youâre not worried.
Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.
âIs he hurt?â Wanda asks.
âNo,â you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. âNo, heâs fine.â
It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wandaâs worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. âHe's not⊠heâs not getting up.â
âHeâs fine,â you insist. âHe has to milk it.â Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. âYes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.â
âWhat?â Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.
âThe hit didnât seem that bad,â you lie unsteadily. âHe has to milk it. Heâs fine.â
Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. âHe has to be,â you admit.
Wandaâs brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.
âI told you,â you tell her.
âHeâs limping,â she points out.
âItâs fake,â you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. âHeâs doing his hero face, heâs completely fine.â It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.
He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and itâs another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but youâre making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.
You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel youâd been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.
It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have âBARNESâ on the back.
Then heâs there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.
âHey, whatâre youââ
Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.
âHey,â he coos, hugging you back.
You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.
âOw!â he complains, grabbing your hand.
âYou asshole! Whatâs up with the drama?â
âWhat, did I scare you?â Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesnât glitter with playfulness. âDoll?â
âYou took your sweet time getting back up,â you continue, ignoring his words. âYouâve never taken that long.â Youâre alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.
He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. âHey,â he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, ââm fine.â
âI know,â you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. âI told Wanda that.â
His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. âOf course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.â
You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. âI'm not your girl.â
âNot yet!â he proclaims.
You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. âYou stink. Go shower.â You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.
âSure know how to charm a guy,â he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.
-
Youâre in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.
He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you canât help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.
He looks pretty. You canât be blamed.
If he notices your gaze, heâs kind enough to not point it out, although itâs unlikely. Itâs undoubtedly heavy.
Heâs staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. âDo I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?â
You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. âNo.â
âIf it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.â
âI know you would. But it doesnât. Is something wrong?â
Bucky cringes. âYou donât really flirt back. I just want to make sure itâs not because I make you uncomfortable.â
âYou donât! I just⊠donât really flirt. I donât really think thereâs a point if Iâm not dating.â
âYou donât date?â Heâs known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.
âNo.â
âNot even guys you like?â
âEspecially guys I like, â you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. âThings get messy. Itâs just⊠distractions and itâs never worth it.â
âYou think love isnât worth it? That itâs a distraction?â
You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if youâd expected him to understand something and he didnât. âWhy do people always twist my words into something so cynical?
I didnât say that. Not love. I never said love, I justâit never ends well. Itâs always something you pour so much into and get so little back.â
Bukcy shifts. âThatâs not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, itâs supposed to be.â
âAh, but see, âsupposed to beâ and âisâ are two different things. Iâd rather just skip the entire thing.â
Bucky frowns. âI donât think you should.â
âYou donât think I should?â
âI donât⊠Iâm not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.â
Your nails pinch at your fingers. âBut what if it isnât?â
âThen it isnât.â You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. âBut what if it is?â
You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.
Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he wonât get one. He doesnât push, turning back to his work.
âWhy do you care so much?â you ask.
He sucks in a breath before admitting, âMainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because Iâm selfish.â
You hum. âYouâre a really good guy, Bucky.â
âI try.â
You scowl lightly. âIncorrigible. Annoying. But really good.â
Bucky laughs. âDonât forgetâwhat was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?â
You launch a pillow at his head. âNuisance is what I shouldâve said.â
âMm, a little contradictory but whatâs life without some juxtaposition? Maybe Iâm a man of many talents.â
The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.
You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where youâre thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.
âWill you?â
It takes you a second to realize heâs talking to you. âWill I what?â
âGive it a chance.â
You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you arenât sure if you want to pick it. âGive what a chance?â you play dumb, but he doesnât buy it.
You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.
âYeah, maybe.â You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you donât, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.
Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.
-
You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, youâve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.
There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky canât seem to notice.
It would feel plain ignorant to do soâto not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.
Itâs not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.
You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that canât help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what youâre saying.
Youâre cute. Youâre too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.
You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.
He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when heâd looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit.Â
Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.
âBucky,â memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.
When he blinks, heâs back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. âBucky,â you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.
âYeah?â he responds finally.
âWeâre complimenting you and you arenât paying attention? Are you feeling okay?â you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.
âFantastic,â he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. âJust won a game, didnât you hear? All by myself, too.â
You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, youâd said.
âSee?â You say accusatorily.Â
Carol grins. âYeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.â
That catches Buckyâs fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can.Â
âI think Maria is calling you,â you tell her. âYou should go see what thatâs about.â
âNow, now,â Bucky starts. âActually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.â
âThat's my cue,â Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. âI'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.â
She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. âHey!â
âYou talk about me to your friends?â
You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. âWell, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldnât I be allowed to brag?â
âBest friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?â
You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. âHe ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.â
âSee, I would never.â Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. âStar football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.â
You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.
âI am so proud of you,â you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. âYou did so well today.â
Youâre startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky canât bring himself to tease or flirt.
âThank you.â
You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. âI am,â you insist.
You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.
âI don't know all that much about football but from what I do, youâre certifiably extraordinary.â You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. âYou made a really great play.â
âImpossible,â Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but itâs soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.
You observe him for a second. âI think youâre amazing,â you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. âWhat⊠type of personâŠâ you start but donât continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability.Â
You inhale sharply, as if realizing youâre drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.
Bucky knows what you expectâwhat he expects of himselfâbut he canât bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He canât concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.
âShould we go?â he says instead, casual but urgent. âIt's late.â
He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldnât have been so abrupt.
Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.
Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.
âC'mon,â he urges, guiding you to his car. âLetâs get you warm.â
âShould you be driving?â you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. âAnd what about the others?â
âDidnât drink,â he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what heâs looking for.
You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing heâs right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.
He clicks open the car. âAnd thisâll force âem to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, Iâll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.â
He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.
âWhy didnât you drink?â you ask. Youâve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where heâs a little flirtier with a little less filter. âYou won a game. If you ever deserved it, itâs now.â
âI had to be able to drive you back.â He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. âSpeak of the devil,â he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.
Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driverâs seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you.Â
âYou okay?â he asks.
âUh huh.â
He clicks his tongue. âLook at that. I think youâre a little drunker than I thought.â
âI am not,â you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. âOh.â
Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.
âI'm justâŠâ You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. âHappy.â
âYouâre happy?â Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.
âYes. It was a good day today.âÂ
You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. âI know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and donât celebrate with a drink to drive me home. Youâre kind of great.â
âYeah?â he murmurs, glancing at you.
You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.
Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. âYeah,â you confirm clearly. âIt's kind of disappointing, you know.â
Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. âWhat?â
âI just thought youâd be different.â
âHow?â His brows are furrowed.
You take a moment to ponder. âNot so⊠you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.â
âSo you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?â he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.
âKind of,â you laugh. âBut youâre not and thatâs really great.â
The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, youâre leaning in at the same time he is.
His skin flips green.
You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.
It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky thereâs no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.
He doesnât want to just forget what happened. He doesnât want to move on from this yet. âWhat does that mean?â he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.
You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. âI don't⊠I donât know.â
He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.
âWhat about going on a date with me?â he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues. âI'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and weâll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. Youâll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel youâre readingââ
He doesnât wait for the answer youâve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.
You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.
âOr⊠or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes orâanything as long as itâs with you.â
And maybe itâs the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness heâs never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe itâs the proximity. Maybe you just canât help yourself anymore. You kiss him.
Heâs frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.
He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. âWait, wait, wait, are you drunk?â
You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when heâs satisfied.
ââHad to make sure,â he mumbles against your lips. âThis canât happen when you arenât you.â
âItâs me,â you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. âYeah, okay.â
âYeah, okay what?â he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.
âI'll go out with you.â
His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. âWait, really?â
You nod. âYeah.â You grasp his arms tightly. âI should at least try, right?âey
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The Stupid Closet (16)
Happy release day Sunday everyone! I hope you like this one, it is SO cute :)
please comment to be added to the tag list, enjoy!
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Almost two weeks later, it was Friday night and the slytherin house was getting ready for another quidditch match, this time against Ravenclaw.
Halloween is next week and everyone has been buzzing about the party, you had even convinced Mattheo it was worth going to.
You walk to his dorm and open the door only to find it empty. You go down to the common room and see Pansy flirting with Draco on the couchâŠit never ends.
âHey have you guys seen Mattheo?â You ask, looking between them.
âI think he was walking outside earlier?â Draco mentions trying to scoot away from Pansy a bit.
While he loved the attention and adoration, Pansy overdid it and always had which put him off.
âOkâ you smile, âPansy, I heard a first year mention some gossip upstairs if youâre interestedâ
âOh really? Iâll go find out.â She instantly takes off.
Draco mouths âthank youâ before you blow a kiss and walk out towards the garden, looking for Mattheo.
To no surprise, you find him sitting on that very same bench the two of you had grown to spending a lot of time on. He was drawing in his notebook, listening to music.
You walk up behind him and grab his headphones off his head, putting them over your ears. An older song plays, âwhatâs this?âÂ
âThe smithsâ he mentions casually.
You squint your eyes at him, âyou never fail to surprise me.âÂ
He grabs the headphones back and sets them on the ground next to him, âHi my loveâ
âHi.â You reply as you lean your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand in his.
âHow was your day?â Mattheo asks, stroking his thumb along your hand.
âSooo boring. You?â You lift your head off his shoulder to look at him.
âI thought about you the whole time.â He smirks.
âQuit it.â You giggle, âyouâre just trying to get in my pants.â
The two of you had slept togetherâŠ.a lot so far. There was a lot of sexual tension to get out from all of these years at Hogwarts.
âSoâŠthereâs a quidditch match tomorrow.â You bring up.
âYes, and?â He looks you in the eyes.
âWill you go with me?â You ask.
Mattheo clenches his jaw, âno. I canât.â
You furrow your eyebrows and turn towards him, âwhat? Why not?â
âI donât want to talk about it.â He shuts you down and lets go of your hand, looking out to the garden.
âMattheo, you canât just shut me out.â Your frustration grows. You hadnât pushed him to talk about why he doesnât play anymore but you wanted to know.
He looks at you, âyou wouldnât get it.â
âRight, like I donât have things that are hard to talk about.â You start. You and Mattheo still butted heads occasionally, but it was different now.
âThatâs not what I meant.â He says coldly as he avoids eye contact.
You grab his chin and make him look you in your eyes, âIâm not leaving until you tell meâŠâ
Mattheo has that dead look in his eyes when you add, âplease? For me?âÂ
He rolls his eyes but decides to tell you, âremember when I disappeared for a bit during 5th year?â
You nod your head, listening.
âI was just named captain when I had to go home. You know who my parents are and that was when Azkaban was broken into and-â he starts rambling.
You take his hand and he realizes heâs rambling. He pauses for a second before continuing, âWhen I came back, it was halfway through the season and Adrian Pucey replaced me as captain. I tried to focus and earn my way back but my head wasnât there and I really fucked up. Adrian told me that I was being benched andâŠI started this fight with him.â
âA fight? WaitâŠisnât that when he was in the hospital all winter?â
âHe didnât play for the rest of the season because of it.â He adds. Mattheo knew how to throw punches and he also knew some pretty bad curses to throw at people. âI was kicked off the team and told to never come back.â
He had never been this open with you and you had a feeling that heâs never really told anyone this story before.
âYou told people you had gotten bored and quitâŠâ you process.
âDraco, Blaise, and Theo know obviously but nobody else does. They swore to me they threatened the rest of the team to keep quiet.â
âI had no ideaâŠâ you trail off. You felt really shitty now, âbaby Iâm so sorryâ
Mattheo looks up to you with his doe eyes before he smiles lightly, âsay that againâ
âSay what again?â You ask, unaware.
âWhat did you call me?â He smirks.
âOhâŠbaby? You like me calling you baby?â You tease as you run your fingers through his hair.
âYouâre just so sexyâ he says as he wraps you in his arms. You laugh as he buries his head in your chest.
âMatty, I think itâd be good for you to go tomorrow.â You suggest quietly.
He pulls himself off of you, âno fucking wayâ
âI know itâs a sore subject but I also know that you still love itâŠand I would be there the whole time with you.â You add.
âNo. I canât.â He rolls his eyes and looks away.
âMatty-â you try to grab his hand before he stands up.
âJust drop it ok?â He looks at you with a clenched jaw.
âFine.â You get quiet and watch him as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You stand up and walk up behind him, setting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist while on your tiptoes.
He turns around in your grasp and returns your hug, âI love you. Please donât ever leave me.â
âMattheo, where is this coming from?â You back away, concerned.
âEverything Iâve ever loved has left. Everything. And I know I donât deserve you.â
Nobody ever got to see this side of Mattheo and clearly you brought it out of him with the talk about the quidditch game.
âI donât plan on leaving any time soon. Just forget I asked about it, ok? Iâm not upset at allâ You reply, grazing your hand over his cheek.
âI didnât-â
âI know what you were thinking. Itâs not a big deal, seriously.â
You smile lightly before you back away, âI'm gonna head back and change before dinner. Iâll see you there, yeah?â
âYeah.â He responds holding your hand as you walk away, finally letting go when youâre out of arm's reach.
You go back to your dorm and change before Pansy comes in and walks down to the great hall with you.Â
You all sit at the table, eating when the topic of the match comes up. Draco and Blaise continue to talk about how well practices have been going and how they planned to dig Ravenclawâs grave. Typically Theo participated in these discussions too but he had been skipping dinner to avoid you and Mattheo.
âMattheo, we switched Harper to chaser like you suggested. I think sheâs settling in nicely.â Draco pipes up.
His eyes gaze over towards you for a split second but he doesnât let his persona falter.
âGood. Iâm sure sheâll do fine.â He responds quickly, trying to not drag on the subject.
You watched how his eyes found their way down to his plate. How he messed with his food instead of eating it. How his jaw clenched just slightly, just enough for you to notice but nobody else.
The more you got to know him, the more you were so impressed by him. Not even you got to see his emotional side often which meant he held it all in. All to himself. You were amazed.
You watched him eat his food, trying to ignore the talk around him. You noticed his long eyelashes as he blinked and the scar on his eyebrow.Â
You felt mesmerized by him. You feltâŠin love with him. You were in love with Mattheo Riddle. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.
âYou ok?â You snap back to reality hearing Draco ask you.
You gather yourself before responding, âIâm fineâ. Your gaze finds its way back to Mattheo, him now looking at you.
You were so screwed.
taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb
#hogwarts fanfiction#slytherin#harry potter#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo#mattheo riddle#mattheoxreader#mattheo x you#quidditch#hogwarts
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On a Date....Kinda (Jay x 8th Member Fem! Reader
Summary: Â Itâs been awhile since youâve hung out with Jay one-on-one. Itâs your time however to film a vlog for fans so it's a vlog featuring Jay!
Jayâs been awake for about an hour and a half now. Occasionally glancing at his phone he wonders just when youâre going to wake up. Preparing a quick breakfast for the both of you as the rest of the members sleep he remembers just the other day when you asked him if he wanted to go out with you and film a vlog. He shouldâve known that you would sleep in with that terrible sleep schedule you had. Cooking some egg sandwiches, he makes sure to prepare extras for the rest of the members, it's the least he could do since he was leaving with you for the rest of the day. Leaning against the counter on his phone he begins searching for some restaurants that he could take you to later.Â
Deciding it was time to wake you up he stands at the door of your room with a hand on his hip. His stance is similar to what an uncle would look like. Knocking on your door he sighs as he waits there for a few minutes. âY/nâ he calls sternly, knocking again. Hearing nothing from you he carefully opens the door and peaks in, âIâm coming in.â he announces his presence to prevent scarring you. Immediately, he lets out a disappointed sigh when his gaze lands on your dead figure. There you were sleeping without a care in the world even though you were supposed to get up early. On your nightstand your alarm is going off yet there you are, snoring and drool collecting on your pillow. Chuckling he snaps a quick picture to show you later before he lightly shakes your shoulder. Your hair is a mess and over your face, seemingly knotted from your sleeping behaviors. Sitting down next to you he brushes your hair out of your face gently, âY/n its time to wake up.â he speaks again, patting your head in hopes of you waking. You groan softly, eyes opening slowly as you adjust to the light and make eye contact with Jay. âWhat time is it?â you ask, sighing, stretching your limbs as you lay in bed still. âLate enough, you have to get recording, remember.â Jay states as you nod and get up. Standing he goes to exit your room before turning back to tell you, âI made you some food, come eat when youâre done getting dressed.â Yawning, you thanked him before grabbing the designated camera and recording a quick intro.Â
Jay stood at the counter behind you as he calmly brushed and braided your hair. The camera placed in front of you recording as you explained, âHi engene, today Jay and I are going to go out and do a little shopping and grab some food. Right now Iâm eating breakfast made by Jay.â You say as you hold your breakfast item up to the camera for a clear shot, âAnd heâs doing my hair since it's a bit windy out today.â you smile as you take another bite of food and allow Jay to be in frame as he carefully puts your hair into two french braids. âLook at him being so nice to me today.â you state to the camera, wiggling your brows since you were trying to tease Jay. âYah! Iâm always nice to you.â he instantly replies, playfully flicking you in the face with your own hair. Giggling, you admire his work as you look at your image through the camera. âWoah, you get better and better every time. Thank you!â you exclaim as you take the final bite of your breakfast. He nods, playing with your braids for the camera, sticking them up and putting your own hair in your ears to bother you. When you finished the both of you quickly grabbed your things before heading out the the car your manager prepared for you.Â
As the two of you run into the car, you kindly greet your manager before putting on your seatbelts. Despite the two of you having the whole row to yourselves, you sit right next to Jay. He chuckles at you, knowing you always liked to be close to him, lucky for you he didnât mind. Sitting close against him you quickly pull up the camera to show a little bit of the car ride. Smiling into the camera you point it to show the road and the view before turning to show Jay. He gives a small side eye to the camera and you as a joke before smiling lightly and giving it a thumbs up. âSo Jay, where are we going?â you ask as you lean against him and place both of you in the frame as you stare at your image in the camera. Bringing an arm around your shoulders to get more comfortable he smiles into the camera before looking down at you, âItâs a bit of a surprise, but I will tell you that I am taking you shopping.â he admits as he fidgets with the material of your shirt on your shoulder. âAwee you remembered when I said I wanted to go shopping?â you asked, genuinely moved by his actions. âI always do.â he says as he smirks into the camera cockily to which you laugh and push against him playfully. âPose with me.â you say as you bring your cheek to his and attempt to pose cutely together. He lets out a sigh before giving in and bringing a heart to his other cheek, copying you. You were always able to get him to pose cutely with you and it's one of your favorite things.Â
On the way, you ended up falling asleep with the camera in your hand. Jay noticed when your head fell on his shoulder, so he decided to record a small piece for your vlog. âHi engene, today I am taking Y/n shopping, out to eat, and I think to a popular photo spot. Y/n said that sheâs never, uhhhâ he thinks about how he should phrase his words carefully before continuing. âShe wanted to go try some coupley things sheâs seen so I searched up some things that may be fun for her to do.â he explains, giving the camera a thumbs up as he shows you sleeping. Doing a double take he noticed you didnât have a sweater despite the cold weather and shakes his head in disappointment. Carefully pushing you away he takes off leather jacket, revealing the flannel he was wearing underneath. Taking it off he places it over you before putting his jacket back on, heâll remember to buy you one later, for now you could wear his. Unknown to him, the camera filmed him doing so and would make it into the cut of the vlog.Â
Both you and Jay were standing outside the mall, waiting for your manager to come back from parking the call. You were now wearing his flannel and you were recording Jay as if he were the main subject of your film. âJay, explain what weâre doing now.â you say, making sure the mall was in the background. He laughs before pulling you close to him and grabbing the camera, âIsnât this vlog supposed to be about you?â he chuckles as he holds the camera to record the both of you. âNow, weâve made it to the mall. One of my goals today is to find some cute tops and maybe some accessories. Jay here is going to help me and be my voice of reason.â you say with a wink to which he just chuckles. As your manager approaches the three of you walk in and your manager has become the designated cameraman. âOhhh we should go to this shop first, Iâve seen some good items online!â you ecstatically explain as you pull Jay with you into the shop. He lets you drag him and watches closely as you search through racks. Grabbing items, Jay being the gentleman he is, holds all the items youâre going to try on and even grabs some you miss that he thinks would look good on you. Jay sits down and begins to ponder, his mind wandering to how he got here as he sits with a pile of clothes in his lap. On camera, he looks like heâs in a daze as you continue to shop in the background. âJay!â you call lightly causing his head to turn and see you motioning for him to bring the clothes over to the dressing room. Sighing he stands up, âFinally, I thought I was going to end up sitting there forever.â he says, teasing you as you just laugh at him.Â
After purchasing all the clothes you liked and getting Jayâs opinion on a couple of items, you felt successful in your purchases. Back in the car, you were now heading to dinner. Jay decided on the place earlier in the day and you two were now on your way to a fairly fancy restaurant at the top of a building. Chatting and joking with each other in the back of the car, Jay begins to share his recent interest in doing a guitar cover of a couple of songs. âYou should totally do it! Is that why youâve been practicing extra hard lately? I usually hear you playing in the studio or in the living room.â you ask, remembering how heâs been spending even more time with his instruments recently. âYeah, thanks. I probably will but I just have to decide on a song.â he explains, as he mindlessly fidgets with one of the rings on your hands. âWhen did you get this one?â he questions as he points to the gold ring on your pinky finger. Smiling, you hold your hand up closer to his face, âI got it today, you didn't notice?â you ask. He frowns and scans the finger, it suits you he thinks as he plays with your hand for the rest of the ride, not noticing your mischievous smile.Â
âNo way.â you exclaim as you look out the window as youâre both seated at the restaurant. The two of you were directly next to a window, the city view right before you both. Snapping pictures, the two of you chat about anything and enjoy each otherâs company. As you laugh at one of Jayâs dad jokes a waiter comes to take your orders. Jay takes charge and begins ordering for you both. She takes notes before looking at you both and asking, âAnd would you guys like any desserts after? We have many items popular among couples.â she states, prepared to write down an order. âCan we get the small couple sundae?â he asks to which the waiter nods and takes her leave. Blushing slightly at the couple's comment, you ignore it. Getting an idea you stand up, âIâll be right back Iâm going to use the restroom.â you tell him before going to find it. On your way though you make sure to find the woman who was serving your table. âExcuse me?â you ask and catch her attention. After talking to her, you had handed her a ring that you purchased earlier. A matching ring to the one on your pinky finger that Jay commented on earlier. You had purchased a matching one for him as a way to thank him and as a reminder of the friendship you share. Later when she served dessert, she would give the ring to him on the sundae bowl.Â
With the camera on the corner of the table, it was able to have the both of you in frame with the view out the window in the back. The two of you had just finished eating and were waiting for dessert. âWow, that was so good. Iâm stuffed too.â you state, rubbing your stomach lightly over the flannel as you shift slightly in your seat. âDo you have enough energy to go sightseeing?â he asks, genuinely wanting to make sure it was something you wanted to do. âOh yeah, of course I do. I slept enough to be out all nightâ you say, smirking at both him and the camera, giving a playful pout after asking, âAre you too tired?â. He chuckles, shaking his head at you before noticing the waitress coming with the dessert, âOh the ice cream is coming.â he says, moving some of the plates out of the way. Sitting up you smile at the waitress who sends you a wink as she sets down the sundae, making sure that on his side a ring would be visible after he grabbed a spoon. âEnjoy!â she giggles, walking away and tends to other tables. Grabbing the spoon on your side you patiently wait to see him find the ring you take a small scoop of the ice cream to your mouth. Seeing him grab his spoon you see his brows furrow. He glances at the waitress for a moment before looking at you, âY/n⊠I donât think this is our ice creamâ he whispers to you. âWhy?â I ask leaning in and whispering to match his actions. âThere's a ringâ he says, holding it to you secretly as he glances around the room. Instantly you burst out laughing, startling him for a moment as you try to catch your breath. Shaking your head you grab the ring as you hold it up to your own. âI got this for you earlier, it's a matching one.â you breathe out, wiping a tear from your eye from laughing too hard. Laughing he brings a hand to his face and rubs his neck in embarrassment before grabbing the ring and analyzing it. It's one similar to the one on your finger, but after looking even closer he sees an engraving. âIs this our initials?â he asks, pointing to the inside of the ring. âYeah, mine has a set too.â I smile at him as I grab the ring and slide it onto his pinky finger. âThank you, really.â he smiles shyly at the gift. âHow's it look?â he questions as he starts posing with his hand on your face, attempting to look cool as he changes poses every couple of seconds. Laughing you shake your head as you very lightly kick his foot under the table as you try to laugh quietly.Â
Going for a walk, the two of you were now on your way to the scenery Jay mentioned earlier. On your way you guys had actually ran into a couple of fans and took some pictures. Honestly you loved fans who gave you guys space and asked for permission to take photos and such, you were grateful for them and the support they gave you. Arriving at the place Jay had in mind, you were in awe. It was a field of flowers, and with the sun just beginning to set, it casted a beautiful ray over both the people and flowers. âIts beautifulâŠâ you sigh out in awe at the sigh, causing him to smile. âCmon lets take some pictures.â he motions you over as he holds his phone out to capture the view. Posing, the both of you capture photos together as well as of each other. Taking pictures as the sun set, your manager was recording some footage for your vlog. When the two of you were done, you all were heading back to the car. The chill of the night was setting and rather than walking all the way to the car, you convinced your manager to pick the two of you up at a park you passed. With Jay, the two of you occupy the empty park. He watches you ask you run up the playground and records you fooling around. âJay, you can't leave me up here by myself!â you shout out as you mess with the equipment, hoping that he would join you. Grabbing your phone you put on some music to dance to as he climbs up the playground to reach you. Freestyling to the music, he joins you and the two of you enjoy the moment, laughing at each other's moves as you begin to play around. When a song with a prominent guitar sound plays he begins to strum the air and stop his foot, causing you to laugh widely, falling to your feet as you watch him travel around like that. He soon climbs off the structure and is wondering whether the camera caught the footage of you both. You make your way down the slide, however, somehow you end up flying off the side shouting to Jay for help. Quickly he turns around and you smack straight into him, sending the both of you to the ground though he fairly breaks your fall. With you on top of him he groans in slight pain, âOh my godâŠoh my god! Please god help me!â he speaks to the sky as you roll off of him laughing at his reaction.Â
In the car, the two of you were being driven back to your dorm room. Snoring softly, you passed out on Jay's shoulder while he tiredly scrolled on his phone, looking at the pictures the two of you took throughout the day. Yawning he sets his phone down and gazes at you sleeping on his shoulder before he relaxes and closes his eyes. Eventually, he too falls asleep and his head falls to rest on yours. Your manager glances into the mirror to look back at the two of you, noticing the silence before chuckling at the two of you sleeping. Stopped at a red light he snaps a quick picture, figuring that you would appreciate it later before he continues to drive you guys back home safely.Â
Extra:Â
âYoooâ Jake speaks to the members who are chilling in the living room and kitchen. âWhat?â Niki asks as he and Sunghoon look over at him. âJay and Y/n were seen at some restaurant earlier and later at some photo spot.â he says, turning his phone to them at the pictures he found online. âOh yeah, theyâre filming a vlog today Iâm pretty sure.â Sunno states, appearing behind Heesung and Niki as they scroll through the photos. âWow, I wasnât invited.â Jake pouts as he scrolls through the photos. The members laugh at his sulking, Niki beginning to tease him because of it. âYoii, I think she did invite us.â Jungwon chimes in as he tries to remember the conversation. âDamn.â Jake chirps, if he remembered he wouldâve said yes. Oh well, heâll hang out with you some other time soon for sure knowing the last time you two hung out together was almost a month ago.Â
Note: Hey everyone, I hope you're able to enjoy this one. Honestly, it ended up being longer than I expected. I wrote it pretty quickly and I didn't check for errors so I apologize if there are many. Let me know if you want more like this or other members! After this I may not update for a short while but I should be back to updating sometime in June. Thank you :)
#engene#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen#enha sunoo#enhypen niki#heeseung x reader#jake x reader#jay enhypen#jay x reader#enha jay#enhypen au#enhypen jay#jay fic#enha scenarios#enha fluff#enha#enhypen jungwon#enha sunghoon#park jongseong#jongseong x reader#enha fanfic#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunoo#sunoo x reader#enha niki#niki x reader#jungwon#jungwon x reader#enhypen fluff
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Runs in but trips over my own paws, scattering some papers everywhere
So... I have a new thing that has been taking over my brain... Not sure if I'll end up doing all of the prompts and I know I won't have time to do them all on time, but I want to try!
I decided to take a similar approach to the fic I wrote from the last prompt list I did, Have Some Empathy, Dear. So, rather than write for Classic Papyrus all month, I'm going to split the prompts up among the four Papyri I have created. Some I haven't expanded on much or barely written anything in general, so this is exciting for me! First up, my Underfell Papyrus - Scar!
Thanks to @starlikeswomen for the awesome prompt list! (Let me know if you don't want to be constantly tagged for these...) (â ă€â â§â âœâ âŠâ )â ă€
Edit: I changed the title of the fic as I decided to only do the first seven prompts and I'm also finishing this outside of October.
Next Chapter
Chapter 1: I Guess We're Roommates??
Word Count: 1,884
It was a warm day today but rather than finish unpacking your apartment, you decided to go outside and get some sunshine. You were between projects anyways so it's not like your clients would get upset if you took a break. After grabbing your phone and credit card, you locked the front door behind you and set out to explore the city. Maybe you'd even try out a new restaurant for lunch if you encountered anything interesting.
It seemed like everyone was out and about today, either enjoying the warm weather like you or just going about their business. You didn't live anywhere particularly fancy, but there were plenty of new businesses in the area and your street had become a popular hang out spot for young people. It gave you some hope that you could start a new life here and make some new friends.
The sun was so bright that you almost wished you had remembered to grab your sunglasses but there wasn't anything you could do about it now since you didn't want to go all the way back home. For now, you kept your head down so you wouldn't have to squint constantly, at least some of the taller buildings occasionally blocked the sunlight.
A bus pulled up to the sidewalk up ahead and half a dozen people disembarked. On instinct, you moved towards the buildings so they could easily move past you, but in doing so, you noticed a very tall skeleton in the middle of the crowd. He seemed rather out of place but instead of asking for help, anyone who got too close received a harsh glare.
Despite Monsters being on the surface for quite some time now, they were still a rare sight since they tended to keep to themselves. The general public seemed to like them but you knew there were still many Humans who not-so-secretly disliked them. It just made sense for Monsters to stick together in a world that was still brand new to them.
You waited until most of the crowd had dispersed before attempting to approach the skeleton. He was dressed sharply, and thanks to his sharp teeth, that seemed to be a good word to describe him. Maybe his clothes were a bit too warm for the current weather though.
He had on a bright red scarf, a classy tan trenchcoat, dark slacks, and well-polished leather shoes. He was also wearing dark leather gloves, making his skull the only visible part of him. The most distinguishing features about him were the two jagged cracks that passed through his left eye socket and his scarlet eyelights that seemed to boil with barely concealed frustration.
Just as you were debating if you should bother talking to him or not, he seemed to notice your presence and turned sharply towards you. For a moment, you got the distinct impression that he was evaluating your appearance but he broke eye contact as soon as the thought occurred to you.
"Are you alright?" you asked carefully.
He stiffened and shot a glare at you. "Of Course I Am," he growled in response.
You weren't that surprised by his harsh tone but a part of you wondered if you should just excuse yourself and continue on your way. "I just wondered because I'm new to the city and I know the feeling of being lost quite well," you commented. "If I may ask, do you need help getting somewhere?"
His expression softened ever so slightly but his earlier frustration continued to hold on stubbornly. "No, I Am Not Trying To Go Anywhere," he muttered.
You raised an eyebrow but before you could say anything else, he let out a huff and crossed his arms. "But, If You Do Not Mind, What City Is This?"
You hadn't been expecting that question at all but you managed to keep a poker face rather than betray your bewilderment. "We're in Mountsburg."
His bonebrows furrowed and he propped his chin up in one of his hands in a thoughtful manner. After a moment he huffed again and turned back to you. "I... I Have No Idea Where I Am," he confessed.
You blinked in surprise and looked around but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two of you. So, you moved a bit closer to the skeleton before responding, "I can try helping if you want?"
He nodded, albeit hesitantly, and finally allowed himself to relax some.
Even though you had to basically crane your neck to look up at his easily seven foot frame, you smiled and introduced yourself before asking for his name in return.
He opened his mouth to respond before apparently thinking better of whatever he was going to say. "Scar. You May Call Me Scar," he answered.
A part of you wondered why he'd been reluctant to tell you his name but you decided not to pry for now. You were a complete stranger and he was in a bit of a tough situation after all.
"Would you like to go somewhere so we can talk? I was planning on getting some lunch anyways if you want to join me?"
"That Is A Good Idea," Scar started to say slowly. "Are There Any Good Monster Owned Places Around Here?"
You shrugged, "I don't know but we can find one."
After searching through some local review websites for a few minutes, you settled on one that was nearby with reasonable prices. It turned out to be a little hole in the wall place but on first impressions, it seemed clean at least. Other than Scar giving you the occasional odd look while you were looking for the restaurant, he had no complaints so you decided to give it a chance.
He picked a table in the far corner of the dining room and you noticed he chose to sit with his back to the wall, as if he didn't like the idea of not knowing who might walk in the door. After ordering, he leaned a bit closer to you, resting his arms on the table as he did so.
"I Am Not Sure Why I Am Here," he started to say in a low voice. "But A Small Skeleton With A Large Paintbrush Told Me To Find Someone With The Same Name As You. The Next Thing I Knew, I Was Here And Well, You Know The Rest."
"You just appeared here?"
Scar thought for a moment before nodding. "That Is The Best Way I Can Describe It."
"Can I ask where you're from then?" you asked.
"I Live Near A Place Called 'Surface Home'." When you have him a curious look, he added in slightly exasperated tone, "Our King Is Very Bad At Naming Things..."
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Considering everyone calls the East side of the city 'Monster Town', I'm not that surprised."
"Wait, Humans And Monsters Live Close Together?"
"Most live here in the city but I know some don't like living in the shadow of the mountain, which makes sense."
Scar nodded quietly.
"You know, I could try looking up your town or city on my phone. Maybe that could help you figure out where you are?" you suggested.
He only shrugged in response, although you did catch a glimpse of a curious glint in his eyelights but it vanished almost immediately.
Try as you might, you couldn't find anywhere that was called "Surface Home" or even any other instance of the former Monster King naming another Monster settlement. When you tried asking Scar about himself or anything else that might give you an idea of where he was from, he seemed to grow a bit uncomfortable, so you changed the subject and tried to make casual conversation instead.
You learned that he liked animals and owned a small hobby farm with his brother outside of their town. He used to be in the Royal Guard back in the Underground as well, which is how he got the two scars. You got the impression that while he acted tough, he really just wanted to be left alone, which was something you understood quite well.
Interestingly, you caught him closely studying you while you searched for his town on your phone. He attempted to play it off when he realized that you'd noticed his staring by complimenting the burgundy highlights in your hair. Then, the waiter returned with your orders so you brushed it off for now.
While eating, you noticed how he kept looking around at the other patrons. It was casual, as if he was only curious about what they were wearing or the occasional bits of conversation you could overhear. However, you began to notice that he was actually surveying the room for potential threats. When you asked if he was alright, he seemed a bit startled but gave you a gruff nod.
He insisted on paying separately when the bill came around and you noticed that he paid in Gold. It occurred to you that he could have requested a Monster restaurant for this specific reason but you supposed it could've also been for the food and familiarity.
When you stepped outside again, you turned to Scar. "Do you have any social media? Or maybe a phone number I can use to get in touch with you?"
He cocked his skull and gave you a confused look. "No? I Do Not Know What That Is..."
Well that put a spanner in the works. You should've guessed that he wasn't the type to care about what other people were doing online. That left you wondering what he would do next since he was alone in a strange city with no way of finding his way home. This led you to offer something that you normally wouldn't have if he was anyone else.
"You could crash at my apartment for a while until we figure out how to get you home."
He physically balked at the very suggestion. "No. You Do Not Need To Put Yourself Out On My Account."
"You were supposed to find me, right?" you pressed. "Maybe together we can find out why, but for now, I'd sleep a lot easier knowing that you have a roof over your head."
He frowned and looked away. "I Suppose You Are Right..." he muttered. "But I Do Not Want To Be A Burden..."
"Nevermind that," you huffed and planted your hands on your hips. "I've lived with roommates plenty of times and I doubt you'd be half as difficult to live with as some of them were."
Something about what you said got him to laugh. Maybe it was your tone of voice or maybe it was the sight of your much smaller frame glaring up at him like an annoyed chinchilla, either way he couldn't stop the smile that threatened to overtake his usual sneer. His laugh was very distinct, almost comical, like a truely maniacal villian, except he was a well-dressed skeleton who apparently hated the idea of being indebted to anyone.
"Nyah! Fine! If You Are Going To Be So Stubborn, I Accept Your Offer, Human," he huffed, although he still had a mildly amused look in his scarlet eyelights.
And so began the most interesting period of your life to date.
#starspaptober24#i guess we're roommates??#raccoons drabbles#undertale#underfell#underfell papyrus#underfell papyrus x reader#reader#warm up my butt#i didn't spend all day writing this...no...#you guys will get to meet my favourite papyri!#this plot is stringed together with hopes and dreams#i got this! :D
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hello itâs me again!! (I was the anon who sent in the possessive gaz and cock warming loser Simon đ i also did the feral reader ones + one with gaz as a dad but Iâm not sure if you got those đ„Č) anyway I loved what everyone was doing with ghost and price and wanted to write a little for them bc theyâre such an interesting dynamic đ
I canât remember who wrote this but someone wrote about how ghost would have issues trusting himself in intimate settings to not lose control. Heâs afraid of hurting you, mentally or physically, and thus goes to the one person he trusts to guide him and keep him in line when you ask him to be rougher with you.
So while ghost is hunched over you on the bed, his hands almost nervously bunched into the sheets, both of your eyes rest on the man who sits in a chair against the wall while puffing a cigar. Price raises an eyebrow as Simon makes eye contact with him and grins cheekily as he says, âYou need my help with takinâ her clothes off too?â
Simon rolls his eyes, but the grip he has on the sheets loosens slightly. As you both sloppily kiss while Simon undresses you, you occasionally hear the puff of the cigar smoke and can sense priceâs heavy gaze as he watches. When Simon starts fucking you itâs still with the restraint he normally shows, but it slowly picks up into him nearly slamming into you. His head drops forward and he pants as he grabs part of the headboard, the wood creaking under his heavy hand.
Suddenly, Simonâs head jerks back and you realize Price has a hand lightly twisted in his hair as he pulls his face back so they can make eye contact.
âEasy now,â Price says, calm as ever, even with heat in his eyes as Simon stares hazily at him. âDonât break her. Make sure you keep our girl satisfied.â
Anyway thatâs all I could scramble together in my head in a few minutes (and I wish I could remember the post that inspired this đ„Č) so I hope you like it đđ hope ur having a good day!!
YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL BRAIN THE FERAL READER IS IN MY DRAFTS BOTH PARTS BECAUSE THE THOUGHT OF BEING JOHNS CRAZY LITTLE NYMPHO WIFE?!! (thatâs just me irl)
but omg i donât remember dad!gaz..
oh my gosh you have sent in such yummy asks and iâm so !!!!! because i KNOW what post youâre talking about, i just scrolled past it the other night and i am NDIDKEKWKSKFJKFRKFJBF
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By the time the sun had fully risen, Josephine and Zelda were in Violetteâs new room helping her to unpack all of her toys and dresses. The room was already outfitted with a small bed, dresser, and a dollhouse that was just like the one Violette had in New Orleans.
Violette was enchanted by it all, but most of all by the ornate Victorian dollhouse. She scurried about the room looking for her favorite dolls to unpack, her olive eyes shining as she tucked each one into the outfitted rooms rather than notice the peeling wallpaper or her auntâs intermittent bouts of distraction.
Her own trepidations about the move had long been allayed by her mother and auntâs reassurances that this was a land of magic. The Land of Enchantment, they had told her, the place where all her dreams could come true. How much of their hope and optimism was feigned for her sake as well as their own on that day, she was still too young to decipher.
Outside the window, Antoine was sitting with Gio on a truck that he had bought when he first moved out that way, smoking and watching the occasional Ford pass by the road that ran in front of their farmhouse.Â
âSo when you said find work, I should have known, I should have askedâŠstupid. Stupid and hopeful.â
Gio beat a pack of cigarettes between his hands, holding it out to Antoine as he spoke, âNot stupid, old sport. If Iâm being honest, I should have spent the extra cents to tell you more, but part of me feared if you knew the whole truth none of you would come. Especially Jo. Just, donât tell her about any of this, alright? Itâs not like Iâm trying to trick her or anything, I just know what itâs about to be like in New Orleans. A city full of dock workers with no goods? No jobs to be found and no food to grow? Iâm only trying to make sure weâre safe, me and her and all of you. But I fear she wonât see it that way.â
For a moment Antoineâs anger rose for his sister, dragged out here away from her home not only by Giorgio, but by him too. He had seen her hesitation when he had first contacted Gio, but had told himself that they had few other options. Now, knowing that they had to sustain a lie just to keep her here was almost enough to make him turn around and pack his bags.
Then he thought of the way she had reacted when she had seen Giorgio yesterday, and how her own pride trumped even his own. He knew that Gio was right, that there was nothing left for them in New Orleans. But most of all he knew that Josephine would never have accepted his help willingly, and she would see his actions as a way to control her; then she would run, no matter how much she loved him.
But more than anything, Antoine remembered the last time he had left her alone and the means she had resorted to to survive. How could he protect her if she ran, if they had nowhere left to go? He looked toward the house where she was now playing with Violette, together with her family. Happy. Safe.
He quelled the protective anger growing in his chest and looked back at Giorgio, âBut what about money, Gio? What about food?â
Gio took a long drag and a sharp intake of breath, âI tried for years old sport, years. I can get it to grow but it always dies before it fruits. Iâve been trading for goods and taking odd jobs, but theyâre harder to find every damn day. We need to grow at least enough to eat. Enough to ensure that if the work dries up the land will give us something.â
He stared at his lit cigarette for a while before he threw it onto the ground, the dry sand immediately engulfing the remaining embers, âAnd if Iâm being honest, Iâve got reason to believe the timeâs cominâ soon. Thereâs migrants passing through here, Antoine, makinâ me think itâs about to get a whole lot worse. Okies, they call them. This whole business, itâs turned into a shitstorm. The farm prices tanked only months after I got here and now the land is worth less than I paid for it and the farmhouse combined. I managed to see it coming and take out a loan on it before it got too bad though, enough cash to get us through a few years. But weâve got to move fast, make sure weâre secured before things really go south.â
Must find work, he had written. Antoine threw his lit cigarette on the ground next to Giorgioâs; now it all made sense. He had brought his family on board a sinking ship.
#1930#sims 4 historical#ts4 historical#ts4 decades challenge#sims 4 decades challenge#sims 4 legacy#ts4 legacy#sims 4 story#the darlingtons#1930s#zelda darlington#josephine duplanchier#violette darlington#antoine duplanchier#giorgio mistretta
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There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 3 - Pleasure As It Was Intended
WC: 5k
Previously on FTFE: Dewdrop wants to try penetration. He has a few toys in mind but struggles to get the courage to buy them, fearing it will invalidate his gender. With Rain's support, he finally purchases the toys.
Summary: The toys arrive and Dewdrop gets to work, after a quick hyping up from Swiss
Notes: I am incredibly proud of this chapter and hope you all like it as much as I do. It's my first time writing porn with feelings so please hype me up :')
CWs: Sexual content, toys, gender dysphoria
And a big thanks to @v-ternus for being my sounding board <3
Read below the cut or on AO3
Dewdrop hears a knock, a brief rap on his bedroom door. He glances at the clock that sits crooked above his desk, mail time, he thinks. Peering through the peephole he can see Special walking away, making his way through the ghoul dorms, stopping occasionally to drop a parcel.
A small, nondescript box sits outside Dewdropâs door. Imposing, menacing. Itâs been carelessly thrown to the ground, evidenced by the rugged angle it sits at. Heâs⊠angry. Angry that itâs been treated with such disregard; the contents of what must be assumed by Special to be another bong, or perhaps a new outfit, merely chucked outside his door like it has no significance to the fire ghoul.
The parcel quickly finds its way inside Dewâs room as he removes it from the doorstep with the same care as one might handle a bomb. He treats it like itâs a feral cat, holding it by the scruff of its neck lest it bite him. Inside the box, as far as Dewdropâs concerned, are the items that determine if heâs worthy as a ghoul. That if they donât end up inside him by the end of the day, heâll be a failure.
Dewdrop decides he wonât let it get on top of him, he canât afford to, doesnât quite trust himself to sit alone all day with the parcel. So he throws himself into his duties. A couple of hours with Mount helping him re-pot his ever-growing plants. Lunch with Cirrus, Dewdrop laying in her lap as they watch some shitty reality show.
He spends the afternoon with Swiss, supposedly for band practice, but that never happens when itâs just the two of them scheduled. Sure, they do some practise but itâs mostly Dew dicking around with his guitar as Swiss vocalises with the disjointed sounds. Theyâve been at it for a few hours when Dewdropâs mind fades back to the parcel, still unwrapped, waiting for him on his bed.
âHowdoyouusesextoys?â Dewdrop blurts out.
Swiss isnât sure he heard right, thereâs no way Dewdrop doesnât have a kinky treasure trove full of toys. âWoah woah slow down cowboy! What did you say?â
Heâs met with another mumbled string of sounds that vaguely sounds like it mentions toys. Itâs Dewdropâs demeanour that leaves Swiss worried, though. The ghoul that minutes ago he was having to wrestle the guitar off as he played some shitty meme song, now taking shaky, uneven breaths and avoiding eye contact like Swiss is Medusa.
âHey, droplet, Iâm not teasing you, I just need to hear what you said⊠I canât help you if I donât know what you want,â Dewdrop opens his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. But deep breaths donât help when it feels like heâs suffocating. He feels a grounding palm smooth over his stubble, sees those big golden eyes shining back with nothing but love for him, he remembers why he chose Swiss.
He inhales, looking away briefly to ask, âBought sex toys for Rain to use on me. Dunno what to expect, I guess. Thought you might know,â the room is still as both ghouls take in what Dewdrop just said, before he remembers to clarify, âTheyâre uh internal toys like dildos ân vibrators ân shit. Iâve never put anything up there before, figured a whore like you wouldâve though,â he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as Swiss stares on in a mixture of confusion and offence.
âOhh I see, come to the resident slut for advice? Well youâve come to the right place. Whatcha worried about? We both know Rainâs been around, itâs not like he doesnât know what to do.â
âNo, I know Rainâs gonna be fine with it, itâs me thatâs worried. What if it feels weird or if it hurts or if I like it so much I detransition?â
âWhat if?â Swiss poses, something Dewdrop hadnât considered, what if? âYou and I know full well Rain wonât do anything if youâre not enjoying it.â
âSwiss!â Dewdrop groans in frustration, dragging out the âsâ at the end of his name, âI just wanna, you know,â he motions vaguely at nothing with his hands, âget some pointers, some tips?â
âWell youâre right, they do have tips!â They both laugh at Swissâ poor attempt at humour, âI do faintly remember the first time I used a dildo, if you wanna know about that?â he asks. Itâs becoming clearer that Dewdrop just wants assurance that itâs going to be alright, even though he knows in his heart that it will be. The multi ghoul receives a sheepish nod in return.
âAlright, well I was on my own so all I had was âol faithful to warm me up, get me nice and open,â he smirks, doing jazz hands showcasing his thick fingers, âI really took my time getting myself nice and wet. I was pre-T so there wasnât much to get hold of but I did the best I could, really stroking myself until I was basically leaking. Then I just lubed Glenda up and put her in, wasn't much resistance. I played aroun-â
âHold up, your dildoâs named Glenda?!â
Swiss scoffs, âWhat about it? Iâm not the one thatâs too scared to put Glenda in my pussy,â itâs all in good humour, they both know it. And hearing about Swiss talk so honestly about it has put Dewdrop at ease. He feels like he can laugh now, like he can breathe again, deep breaths full of all life has to offer. âAnyway, I played around with the angles until it hit that fucking dynamite spot, youâll know it when you hit it,â Swiss promises, a smile creeping across his face as he reminisces, âand the rest was history. A lil bit of thrusting here and some stroking there and I came so hard I cried,â he deadpans, as if heâs not recounting a story of him masturbating.
âSeriously, spitfire, youâll love it, Iâm sure,â and itâs all Dewdrop can do to pray to Satan below that Swiss is right.
Dinner runs without a hitch, Dewdrop eats a respectable amount for a guy so nervous about his imminent gut-rearranging. And more importantly, he thinks heâs managed to keep it a secret, Rain still doesnât know the toys have arrived. The water ghoul is living in blissful ignorance to the sweet, tender sex that will follow their usual post-dinner makeout session. That for the first time, Dewdrop will be an active recipient of pleasure, and heâll enjoy it; at least thatâs what he hopes.
It starts as it does most nights, Rain playing footsie with Dewdrop, sliding his scaly foot up and down the fire ghoulâs shin, making those dumb heart eyes at him. Dewdrop swears if Rain was a cartoon, his eyes would spend half the time booming out from their sockets in adoration for his mate, itâs endearing really. Following their adolescent flirting, Rain excuses the pair of them from the already emptying table; if the way Aurora looks at Cumulus is anything to go by, theyâre not the only ones with evening plans.
They get as far as the dorm corridor before Dewdrop boxes Rain against the cold, stone wall. The taller ghoul freezes, a forward move from Dewdrop. He canât quite bring himself to move when Dew begins to mouth at his neck, angling for Rain to bend down and kiss him. Instead he basks in the heat on his jaw as Dewdrop sinks his teeth into Rainâs pale flesh. He moans and the vibrations in his throat only further encourage the shorter ghoul.
âWhatâs gotten into you, spitfire? Normally you can at least wait until weâre back at yours,â Rain asks as he brings a hand down to knead at Dewdropâs barely-there ass.
Between sucking and bruising the ghoulâs neck, Dewdrop speaks up, âHyping myself up.â
âForâŠ?â
âToys,â Dewdrop whispers, seductive yet laced with a tinge of worry.
Before leaving that morning, Dewdrop had the foresight to at least unpackage and clean the toys, even he was smart enough to know that cleaning toys is a real mood killer, especially for a ghoul already on edge about the whole thing. If there was anything that Dewdrop could prepare for in advance, he was going to do it.
So, laying bare to the world on his bedside table were the toys, sitting proud. Rain didnât notice them immediately, too focused on the fire ghoul attached to his neck, trying to manoeuvre them into Dewdropâs room without either of them tripping or stepping on each other. They catch his eye as his mate backs him up towards the bed until his knees give, ungracefully stumbling onto the mattress. Hurried hands fly between them to undress each other. Dewdropâs fingers filled with nervous energy, struggling with his jeans and Rain, the ever helpful boyfriend gently undoing the button and sliding them down, taking in Dewdropâs form, just a binder and boxer briefs now. âFuck heâs handsome,â Rain thinks, verbalising his thoughts to the grinning ghoul above him.
âWanna use âem on me? Was thinking get the dildo out the way tonight?â
âFuck canât wait baby, gonna make you feel so good. How do you want to do this?â
Dewdrop answers with a gentle push to Rainâs shoulders, settling him down in the middle of the bed before shedding his underwear and climbing atop the water ghoul, back to chest. The weight of Dewdrop is really nothing to complain about, spread over Rainâs body, itâs barely uncomfortable, more of a weighted blanket if he had to compare it. Besides, if itâs what his droplet wants, heâll be damned if he doesnât give him exactly that.
With him, Dewdrop brings the toys, laying them carefully by Rainâs hip alongside a bottle of lube. Once settled, he takes a moment. What for, he isnât really sure. Maybe to calm himself down, but he feels an odd sense of relief, of readiness. He isnât scared anymore. He wants it to happen, heâs excited even. Perhaps thatâs why heâs slowed down, to appreciate and bask in the feeling.
As he lays on Rain, his golden hair resting perfectly on the water ghoulâs neck, Rain lifts his head up to meet Dewdropâs scalp pressing long kisses into it. âSo proud of you baby,â he whispers between them, hand idly thumbing the silicone toy by his side. Rain was truly happy with the idea that Dewdrop would never try penetration, he was content to live out their lives as they were. With that, he could sense Dewdropâs hesitation, how he became disengaged during sex if Rainâs hand ever veered too low. But the way he acted didnât seem to be fear, no, Dewdropâs face would turn pensive, as if he were pondering what if? A poignant question the fire ghoul now knew the answer to. Well perhaps not the answer, but heâs certain heâs explored his feelings enough to know he wants it and he wants it now.
The binder still clinging to his chest is becoming uncomfortable at best with how Dewdropâs sweating at Rainâs sweet words of encouragement and that familiar cold hand roaming his stomach. Itâs itchy and riding up at the bottom but he doesnât care, heâs too caught up in the moment, something he doesnât think heâs ever experienced. To not be hyper aware of every sensation but instead to be dialled in on a specific feeling, itâs bliss.
Against him, Dewdrop can feel Rain pulsing, leaking onto the small tuft of hair at the small of his back. It feels odd, to be the one selflessly experiencing pleasure, Rain gladly putting aside his own needs in favour of pleasing his mate.
âMy sweet baby boy, I can feel you leaking, may I?â Rain asks, bringing deft fingers to Dewdropâs entrance, hovering, waiting for permission. Dewdrop need only bring his hand over Rainâs before the water ghoul gently swipes over his folds, bringing his slick-soaked hand to his mouth. âOh Dewdrop you taste divine. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.â
Itâs not even an attempt at dirty talk but it makes Dewdropâs stomach jump nonetheless. Heâs finally starting to believe Rain loves him as he is. While Rain is preoccupied salivating over the taste of the fire ghoul, Dewdrop flicks open the cap on the lube as he squirts a generous amount onto the head of the light purple toy
âWould you do the honour?â Dewdrop asks weakly, offering the slicked up toy to the water ghoul.
âWant to let you have this moment Dewdrop,â Rain replies, this is Dewdropâs journey, heâs just along for the ride. Dewdrop teases his entrance, letting the purple head get even wetter as he drags it along his folds, collecting slick as small whines escape his lips. It once again surprises him how at ease he feels. After years of turmoil, worrying that heâs faking it all, heâs never felt as sure of his identity as he does in this moment.
âWhenever youâre ready dropletâ, Rain coos, placing chaste kisses on Dewdropâs neck. And with that Dew pushes in, slowly but steadily moving the toy until his hand lies flush with his skin. Itâs an odd feeling, a completely new, foreign sensation but it doesnât feel wrong. Far from it. It brings with it an overwhelming sense of familiarity too, an instinctual need. He knows exactly what to do. Itâs not rocket science, Dewdrop knows this, but heâs still taken aback by just how easy it feels. Itâs with that realisation he cautiously begins to pump the cock in and out of his dripping cunt.
As Dewdrop lay atop Rain, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress, the fire ghoul finds a respectable rhythm, butterflies in his stomach every time he thrusts the silicone deep inside him. He canât believe heâs put it off for so long, denying himself divine pleasure. Filling the room along with the slick sounds of Dewdrop fucking himself are the sweet words of encouragement spilling from Rainâs lips like a burst dam.
âSo proud of you, droplet, can hear just how much you like it.â
âThatâs it, keep going, fuckkkk just like that.â
âFeel how hard youâre making me? Shit- thatâs all you, spitfire. You and your insatiable body, such a good boy.â
The words imprint themselves on Dewdropâs brain, burned in forever. Rainâs not telling him how pretty he is or groping his chest, heâs appreciating Dewdrop for exactly who he is, a man. And for once, heâs not jealous that Rain has a dick, doesnât spite him for it. Because he, too, is experiencing pleasure and he got it all wrong, he doesnât need a penis for that. Sure it would be nice but right now he feels pretty fucking incredible. Rainâs words have such an effect on Dewdrop that heâs becoming too worked up to keep a steady rhythm, the stimulation is too much to concentrate on keeping it going. He crooks his head back, asking silently, and Rain just knows what he wants.
The dildo changes hands, Rain now in charge of Dewdropâs pleasure, entrusted with making the fire ghoul feel good, and boy does he deliver. Pressing pretty kisses to Dewdropâs neck, his hand fumbles for the toy. The transition is near seamless and Dew melts. It felt good before but shit Rain knows what heâs doing, angling it just right to make Dewdrop cry out a choked moan- Swiss was right, Dew did know when he hit that spot. The spot that makes his stomach churn in the best way as he listens to the slick nosies and the sound of Rainâs skin slapping against his inner thigh as he pumps Dewdrop full.
Heâs writhing on Rainâs tense body now, hips canting towards the stimulation, rocking into the water ghoulâs cock, smearing pre against the small of his back. Dewdrop canât bring himself to care about the torture he must be inflicting upon his mate. Heâs been so selfless all these years, heâs giving himself tonight to be completely selfish about his needs.
His orgasm starts to build and he vocalises, âOh fuck I- I think Iâm close fuck please donât stop. Please. Keep going. Fuck. Rain. Ah. Keep-â Rain shushes him to give his permission. Not that Dewdrop needed it, but to let the fire ghoul know Rainâs not going anywhere.
âLean into it darling, let go for me. Such a good boy, taking it so well. So proud of you, baby,â and with those words Dewdrop is clenching around the toy as his cunt spasms and he whines high and reedy, uncaring about pitching his voice lower, he doesnât need to perform for anyone, not right now, anyway. Rain can feel Dewdropâs release coating the toy in such copious amounts itâs running off and onto the water ghoulâs digits.Â
Dripping onto his balls, Rain can feel just how wet Dewdrop is as slick gushes out of his hole. Rain wants nothing more than to gather his boyâs slick and jack himself to an almighty climax, but not tonight. Thereâll be plenty of nights for that to happen. Tonight is all about Dewdrop. Rain would truly be happy to never cum again if it meant Dewdrop could finally live in pleasure instead of pain. Rainâs had his good times, heâs lived his life; Dewdropâs is only just starting.
Dewdropâs still in a state of awe. He did it. He got off. On just internal stimulation. A feat he truly never believed heâd be able to do, despite his years-long curiosity about it (okay, the base of the dildo relentlessly hitting his clit might have been part of it, but still, itâs all connected, right?). As he comes down from the first high of the night, Rain babbles nothing but praise, eager for his love not to drop after such an intense high. He knows how easy it would be- post nut clarity is no joke and Dewdropâs worked himself up about this so much, it wouldnât take a lot for him to spiral. To feel that shame creeping up, enveloping him in a thick coat of inescapable humiliation at him, a man, enjoying being fucked like a woman. So Rain doesnât let it happen, showering him with enough praise to make anyone blush, rocking his dick against Dewdrop every so often to remind him that heâs desirable.
Hair sticks to Dewdropâs face as he pants, still overcome with euphoria from the intensity of his orgasm. He suddenly feels himself clenching around nothing, opening his eyes to see the toy in Rainâs hand. Fuck- itâs dripping in cum and oh Rainâs bringing it up towards them, past Dewdropâs face and heâs moaning as he takes it hungrily in his mouth, to the hilt, moaning into it. âWanted to test the theory it taste even sweeter after the event, my love,â
âAndâŠ?â Dewdrop probes.
âWhat do you think, droplet?â The water ghoul smirks, brining the toy to Dewdropâs swollen lips, âSee for yourself.â
A tentative tongue makes its way to the tip of the dildo giving an exploratory lick. Itâs not nice per se but thereâs something about being able to taste his own release that makes it that much nicer. Still, heâs not sure it tastes divine but perhaps Rain is really that in love with him.
âReady for round two?â Dewdrop questioned, a grin adorning his blissed out face.
âFuck- really? Anything for you, Dewdrop. How do you want it? Want me to pump you full again, or I could eat you out? Perhaps you-â
â-m not ready for you to touch me there yet I donât think, sorry,â he blurts out and Rainâs heart sinks. Not at Dewdropâs sentiment but that he feels sorry for it.
âMy spitfire, thatâs more than okay. You donât ever have to be ready, this is already more than I ever imagined weâd do together. Satan, Iâm so lucky to have you. Want to try the vibe instead?â
And just like that, Dewdropâs inspecting the vibrator, hands travelling over the plane of the toy, feeling the ridges before testing the mechanism. Slowly twisting the dial at the bottom, wondering if itâs broken until- buzz. Itâs intense, the blood being drained from his fingers as the toy throbs in his hand.
âEasy, Dewbug, weâll start off slow and build up to that. Trust me, I know what Iâm doing,â and Dewdrop does trust him. Itâs finally sinking in that Rain truly does have Dewdropâs best interests at heart.
Dewdrop spreads his legs once more, cool air hitting his clit despite it being almost hidden beneath his curls. He clenches on instinct, cringing when he feels another glob of his release make its way to the pool collecting on Rainâs lithe body. It surprises him. He doesnât feel disgust or shame at his bodyâs response to the fucking incredible action of Rainâs hand, he feels proud he was able to cum for Rain, to be a good boy.
âFuck baby, still leaking, huh? So good for me,â Rain whispers.
With that, Dewdrop hears the familiar rumble of the vibrator. A sleek, black thing, phallic in size but not in aesthetic. The mechanical whir fills the room, though itâs not as overbearing as when Dewdrop cranked the dial all the way, itâs a more subtle hum.
Rain hesitates, bringing a hand up to rest on Dewdropâs stomach, âDroplet, can I touch you?â he asks.
âYou just fucked me silly with a dildo, of course you can do it with the vibe,â Dewdrop replies, enamoured by his mate but slightly confused nonetheless.
âI mean- your uhm chest, Dewdrop. Want to feel your heart beat as I take you apart.â
He ponders, the purr of the motor a backdrop to his thoughts. Itâs not like Rain would see his chest, or even really feel it, hidden behind the thick wall of his binder. And thinking about it, even if he did, Dewdropâs not sure heâd mind. Rainâs carved out their time together as a place for Dewdrop to truly be himself. The offer has always been there to not bind, to raise his voice back to its natural pitch, Rain made it unequivocally clear that he doesnât mind. But Dewdrop always has, until now.
A small nod accompanied with a hushed yes is all Rain needs to start. After years of spending almost every waking moment together, Rain knows when his mate is being sincere. Enthusiastic consent is the only consent is a great general rule but their connection goes deeper. The non-verbal signs, the way Dewdropâs breathing steadies when he feels safe and his eyes search for Rainâs to ground himself. The way his eyes scrunch and his lips curl up almost imperceptibly when heâs around Rain. Itâs not apprehension, itâs nervous excitement about experiencing yet another new sensation, even if it is through the plate of his binder. And Dewdrop knows Rain would never go further than he wants, not without explicitly asking. So he lies there safe in the knowledge that creeping fingers wonât find their way under the hem of his binder, but will freely roam atop it, mapping out Dewdropâs contours.
Whimpers accompany Rainâs renewed movement, vibrator making feather light touches to Dewdropâs dick as his other hand plants itself over the fire ghoulâs chest, the wide span covering him almost entirely. Itâs like being jacked off by The Flash, the plastic beating down on his clit with an unrelenting pace while Rain keeps his hand steady, letting the toy do all the work. Moans fill the room as Dewdrop squirms atop Rain.
âDoes it feel good, baby? Yeah? Keep making those noises for me, fuck.â
All the apprehension, the years of turmoil, only for Dewdrop to be a whimpering, writhing mess within an hour of getting his (and Rainâs) hands on himself. Itâs funny really, in hindsight. And heâs glad he can finally indulge himself in these fantasies, that his mind allows him to enjoy himself.
With that thought, Rainâs deft hand cranks the dial, the buzz turning to a roar as the vibrator near shakes under Rainâs digits. Bringing it back down to Dewdropâs clit, the fire ghoul shouts, âOh fuck Rainy- shit- I- awgh- so much- I,â heâs trembling under Rainâs touch, hips bucking into the vibe, desperate to get off on the stimulation thatâs both far too much and not enough.
The hand on Dewdropâs chest begins to roam, firm touches tracing his body, committing it to memory. The first time of many, Rainâs sure, if the wanton moans leaving Dewdropâs lips are any measure to go by. His hands brush over the light smattering of hair on Dewâs stomach and Satan below Rain wants to worship Dewdropâs body forever, remind him each and every time just how fucking hot he is. It would be an endless back and forth of Rain smothering him in compliments and Dewdrop not believing a word. But perhaps with enough time, heâd come around.
Rainâs hands continue their ministrations as the squirming ghoul above him becomes louder with each circle of the vibrator around his dick. The water ghoul is just about to check in when Dewdrop interrupts him, âClose! Ah- shit- Iâm about to cum- please- donât stop- just like th- ahh fuck,â he hisses. It only spurs Rain on, increasing the pressure and finally turning the vibe up to the maximum intensity. Drawing circles around his clit, occasionally dipping below to gather Dewdropâs pre and cum from his first orgasm. The slick noises that fill the room, combined with the insane amount of stimulation Dewdropâs receiving, have him spilling almost instantly with a cry, â-m cumming, fuck Rainy thankyouthankyouthankyou fucking ahh.â
A minute passes, at most, before Rain is turning down the dial and smoothing his hand over Dewdropâs binder, fixing itâs twisted state on his chest. Sure that his mate is finally satiated, now is definitely the time to make sure his mental state doesnât drop in that post-orgasm haze. Cum-drunk is the best way to describe Dew, a wide smile on his face, eyes barely open, and chest heaving as he recovers from one of, if not the most, intense orgasms of his life.
âHow are you feeling, droplet? You were so good, took it all so well.â
âI feel⊠like I want to go again. Want you to fill me up, fuck, that was so hot. I think I said it a moment ago but thank you for indulging me Rainy, thereâs no one Iâd rather pump me with a toy,â he finishes with a kiss blown to his mate.
Rain giggles at Dewâs sentiment, ever the romantic, âMaybe not tonight, sweetheart, already gone stiff, not sure I could guide you through another orgasm. And wouldnât want you getting greedy, hmm?â He jokes.
Stiff, Dewdrop thinks, shifting in place to confirm his suspicion, shit heâs still hard. âWait, donât you want to get off? Only feels right after what you gave me.â
âIâll be fine, handsome, thereâs always tomorrow.â
An idea worms its way inside Dewdropâs mind, âWe could use the vibe, could jack you off, make you fuck my fist?â
And how could Rain so no to his puppy-eyed boyfriend and his incredulously horny suggestion. Dewdrop sits up, kneeling over Rainâs legs. Vibrator in hand, he starts it up and closes his fist around Rainâs weeping cock. Rain shudders at the sensation, at finally having something more than the friction against the small of Dewdropâs back. Itâs intense, the fire ghoul wasting no time in jacking the vibe up to the maximum setting, hell bent on just getting Rain off, and he isnât complaining. âOh Dewdrop I love you so much, fuck- donât know what Iâd do without you in my life- ahhh keep going, âm already close,â
âAww baby, canât keep going just a little longer? No? I donât blame you, the show I put on was fucking hot, wasnât it?âÂ
All Rain can do is nod fervently in response to Dewdropâs questions. His ruddy head sliding through the fire ghoulâs slick hand, sliding up against the hard plastic of the vibrator. The mix of hot and cold drives him crazy as he utters more confessions of love to his mate. Itâs not like itâs the first time heâs said it, but it feels so much more real, knowing heâs seen this vulnerable side of Dewdrop. The smaller ghoul always feared that if he let this side of himself be seen, heâd be left, upset and alone for eternity. Seeing that Rain still loves him after tonight, well fuck if that doesnât encourage him to make Rain scream his name.
âWanna hear you,â he mutters.
âOh yeah, baby? What do you want to hear? Youâre being such a good boy for me, gonna bust all over your hand.â
âWant you to say my name,â Dewdrop says, unsure if itâs a question or a statement, but Rain knows exactly what to do.
Dewdrop braces himself on Rainâs chest and the heat of his palm pushes Rain over the edge, âOh Dew, fuck you treat me so well my Dewdrop, I fucking love you, donât you ever forget it,â he cries out to anyone who could be listening, and heâs sure there are people getting their fix on the sounds emanating from the room. Dewdrop keeps his hand steady as ever, watching Rainâs cock spurt thick white ropes, seemingly endlessly, twitching as the water ghoul cants his hips with an ever waning intensity.
âFuck, I love you too, Rain.â
And Dewdrop means it with no hesitation. Heâs not sure any other person could have made tonight as incredible as Rain has. Heâll never understand what he did for Satan to reward him like this, but he doesnât need to know, just having Rain is enough.
#trifle writes#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#the band ghost fanfiction#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#trans ghouls#raindrop#cw dysphoria#spicy tag
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Not long after the Vecna fight, and after Eddie is discharged from the hospital, him and his band mates leave Hawkins. Their reputations in Hawkins are basically in the fucking gutter, and they had a gig out of town, so they hauled ass.
Steve, who may or may not have some memory issues due to head trauma, completely forgets Eddie. He, honestly, forgets a lot of things, and when heâs about 25, him and Robin move away from the shithole that is called Hawkins and get a flat together in the city, insisting that they could do it.
And they did.
They pay their bills and rent on time, they budget their money, and theyâre comfortable. So what if Robin brings home the occasional woman and it always ends with mumbled farewells that wake Steve up every time. He doesnât mind. Just like Robin doesnât mind when Steve starts bringing home girls, and the occasional guy (after the first one, Robinâs all like âYOU LIKE DUDES? WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME??â).
Every once in awhile, Steve and Robin make sure to call the kids, catching up and seeing how theyâre doing. Dustin always asks how Steve is doing, and Steve always says good, even if he isnât.
Steve was pretty surprised when the kids, each one of them, showed up at his and Robinâs door randomly. Steve blinked, about to ask why they were there, but Robin swooped in and let the kids in, excitedly greeting them.
âDid I forget something again?â Steve asked Robin as she was getting the kids drinks. Robin ruffled Steveâs hair.
âNah, doofus, I planned this. Donât worry.â Steve flashed a smile and joined everyone in the âliving roomâ, which really was the doorway/kitchen/living room.
âWhat exactly did you plan, Rob?â Steve asked as he sat on the coffee table, glancing over the kids and observing how much theyâve aged in just a couple years.
âWeâre gonna go see Eddieâs band in concert,âDustin said with a wide grin, but Steve didnât catch on. Dustin understood fast that Steve had lost all memory of the brunet, smiling still. âCorroded Coffin. I donât know if itâs your style but Eddie said we could hang out with him and the guys as like a Hellfire reunion,â Dustin informed, doing some odd, back-of-the-hand fist bump with Mike. Steve smiled and nodded. He was fine with that.
â
The concert rolled around, and everyone but Steve was surprised by the huge turn out. Eddie had bought the gangâs tickets for them, and so they had no idea how expensive, or scarce they wouldâve been. But judging off the fact the venue was jam packed, they assumed they dodged a bullet by being old friends with the band mates.
Steve felt an odd feeling in his stomach when the band walked on, the guitarist speaking excitedly into the mic. In fact, the guitarist was the only person Steve could focus on. His hair was long, and was tugged into a loose, high bun. Tattoos coated his arms, and he wore a slightly cropped, ripped to shit black shirt that read Corroded Coffin in lightning-esque lettering.
Eddie was quick to pick out his old friends from the crowd, letting Gareth speak as he watched them. Dustin and Robin had told him that Steve didnât remember much of his last years in Hawkins, and the years before that were a little spotty as well, so he was forgotten. Eddie didnât mind this much, especially not now that he saw Steve, wearing cute tight jeans and a deep maroon sweater, staring up at Eddie with pure amazement.
Eddie made sure to hold eye contact with Steve as much as possible, and the best part? Steve didnât look away. His crush on Steve was horrible in Highschool, but he had gotten over it after leaving Hawkins. He got with a couple guys, he got over it. But now? God he was reverting right back into his high school days, heart racing just at the way Steveâs eyes would flick over his body or how heâd fix his hair. Did Steve even like men? God, Eddie sure fucking hoped so.
After the concert, the crew was escorted backstage and into the bandâs dressing room. After excited greetings and hugs and stuff of that matter, Eddieâs eyes fell onto Steve again. Robin was talking to him, a comforting hand on his arm as Steveâs brows furrowed in thought. Eddie approached.
âHey there,â Eddie greeted, and Robin turned, smiling.
âHey Eds.â Robin knelt up to Eddieâs ear. âHeâs trying to remember you. He probably wonât.â Eddie simply nodded, flashing a grin at Steve.
âHey. Names Eddie, yours?â
âSteve. Steve Harrington.â Steve held his hand out to be shook, but Eddie took it, bowed, and kissed the back of his hand. Steve flushed all shades of red as Eddie rose again.
âPleasure meeting you, my liege.â
âY-yeah. You- you too.â Eddie let his eyes flick over Steveâs form. He flashed another grin.
âI hope this isnât the last I see of you?â Eddie proposed, and Steve flushed red.
âYou want my number?â
âOf course I do.â
âI- yeah- give me a moment- Rob whatâs our flats phone number?â
#Iâve hopped on the Steve with memory loss bandwagon#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve stranger things#eddie stranger things#eddie x steve#steddie#corroded coffin#gareth stranger things#robin buckley#robin stranger things#dustin henderson#dustin stranger things
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I'd Love to Dance with You
If you're going to reblog give me credit!
Prompt: Soulmate Au (You see each other in your dreams)
Pairing: Alex Walter x reader (girl)
Summary: After Jackie moved in with the Walters she really missed her best friend Evangeline. After hearing from Katherine that Jackie is having a hard time adjusting she thinks it's a good idea to pay her best friend a visit.
Warnings: angst, there will be a part 2 if anyone wants it!
Jackie had just finished talking to Evangeline and she knew she already missed her. She sighs as she goes back to living her new life and forgetting about her old.
She goes downstairs to see Katherine talking to Cole about his grades but as she comes in Katherine puts on a smile and seemingly forgets about the entire issue.
Jackie waves at the pair as she walks out the door, thinking a jog would do good for her busy mind.
But what she doesn't know is that the fight between Cole and Katherine was just a way to get her out of the house so they could continue planning.
They could tell that she was missing her old life. Katherine after overhearing a conversation of the two girls where Evie said she wished she could come to visit came up with a plan to make that happen. She will arrive tomorrow after school and stay for 2 months to help cheer up Jackie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't wait to go see Jackie. I think as I pack the last of my bags for the trip. It had been paid for by Richard who wanted to help lift his nieces spirits. I was now on my way to the airport hoping Jackie wouldn't try to call me again and ruin the surprise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie's school day has been so long. I had to just sit in her room and wait for her to get home, of course with the occasional asking if I wanted anything and me being polite, said yes to just about anything I wasn't allergic to.
I start to hear multiple footsteps so I know it is time to hide. Thank goodness for the fact that Jackie isn't one to hit you because you surprised her because this will surely make her jump.
As she walks in I hear her drop her bag on the floor and plop down on her bed in a huff. She seems tired or frustrated, I don't really know I hate trying to guess emotions.
I quickly and quietly open the closet door and plop on the bed next to her, "So what's got you all in a huff?" I say jokingly as I watch her jaw drop in shock. She quickly just pulls me into her embrace and I fear she won't ever let go. I just hold her while rubbing her back to soothe her.
After our beautiful reunion she walks me downstairs to meet the Brady bunch. I am terrible at names so I try to remember features or anything different about them. I categorized them by personality or something that made them stand out. Cole: arrogant, flirty, asshole. Lee: Skater boy. Issac: Lover boy. Danny: Actor. Andrew: musician. Parker: the only girl. Benny: the youngest. Will: The oldest/about to be married. Jordan: Why won't he stop filming me?!?!!?
Also why is their family so big!??! How am I supposed to remember all these names.
There was one other kid though. He came in late apologizing for his mistake and saying he didn't know he wouldn't make it in time for dinner. As we make eye contact I look at him shocked. Jackie has been telling me about her love triangle between Alex and Cole and now seeing him and noticing who he was I was freaking out.
Alex just sat down and kept staring at me and Jackie while I tried to avoid his eyes.
That night as I was brushing my teeth in the downstairs bathroom Alex came up behind me. I knew what he wanted to discuss but I just couldn't.
I turn to look at him after putting my tooth brush away and he just stays there staring at me. "I don't know what to say." I look at him puzzled that he decided that those would be the first words he says to his soulmate.
"I've imagined this moment; when I met you for so long. But I don't know how to proceed now that I know who you are. You and Jackie have a thing going on, i'm here to help her not make it worse."
Sincerely, Coraline Jones đââŹ
#alex walter#alex walter x reader#cole walter#will walter#danny Walter#my life with the walter boys#jackie howard#jordan walter#katherine walter#george Walter#issac garcia#lee Garcia#parker walter#benny walter#soulmate au#seeing your soulmate in your dreams#soulmate
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-Office 119-
Minors dni
Contains: Office romance, love at first sight, pegging, blowjob, femdom!reader sub!eunseok, Eunseok x afab. 4k words
You realised you are a dominant years before, you've never talked to anyone about it, let alone experienced it, you've tried regular sex a few times but you quickly came to the conclusion that it wasn't for you. Since then, everytime you started flirting with a man you would suddenly ghost him, scared that he would call you a freak and runaway if you tell him what you like to do in bed, at this point you just think you are better off alone. You're working at an office job, the salary is pretty good and you can spend your days daydreaming sitting at your desk which is perfect for an introvert like you. One day, your boss gather everyone in the office saying a new person is coming working here tomorrow, the desk next to yours happened to be vacant so your boss asks you to teach them everything you can. It's annoying, you don't like your routine to be disturbed, but you're not really in a position to refuse, you just hope they are a fastlearner.
The day after when you go to the office your boss is waiting for you in front of the building next to a man, your heart skips a beat when you see him, he's tall with broad shoulders, his suit is perfectly adjusted to his body, he has a sharp features and dark brown eyes that can see right through you, its actually unfair how much he's your type.
"Eunseok heres y/n, she's going to teach you everything you need to know, if you have a question just ask her, y/n I hope you can teach him well"
The man looks at you with a faint smile on his face and slightly pink cheeks.
"Nice to meet you y/n."
"Nice to meet you Eunseok."
All three of us go in the elevator, your arm slightly touch eunseok's and he immediately backs away almost like you burned him, you're kinda offended by that, but whatever.
You try not to be too upset about it and push your thoughts away so you can get to work.
You explain everything to him as clearly as possible, he listens very carefully your explanations, asks you some questions, and gets to work, you're actually amazed at how good he is, he did not make a single mistake or make you repeat yourself, you're almost a little sad you're not that much needed.
You quickly get back to your work now you have some catch up to do, a few hours passed in a blink of an eye, focus on your screen, suddenly in the corner of your eyes you see a hand gently putting a cup of coffee on your desk, you turn around and see Eunseok.
"Noona, thank you for teaching me I hope you can rely on me in the futur"
"Oh don't worry about it, i'm glad I could help"
Eunseok returns to his desk next to yours and sits on his chair, you can't help but stare at him, his straight posture and his perfect side profile makes him look like he's on a magazine cover. You keep thinking about how pretty he would look showered in pleasure, you blush realising your dirty thoughts at the man you just met and start feeling a little guilty.
The days passed and eunseok becomes more and more skillful he doesn't have anything to ask you anymore, from time to time he brings a drink at your desk, still grateful to everything you taught him. Occasionally when you take a look him you both end up making eye contact making things awkward for a minute but you just can't stop yourself from staring at him.
On a random day, you're eating lunch with another female colleague, making small talk, when she suddenly asks.
"You know that new guy eunseok, he's so handsome but what's up with his attitude?"
"What are you talking about??"
"I mean I just met him in the cafeteria and at the photocopier a few times but he's so cold, barely answering when you talk to him, such a waste of a pretty face"
"Eunseok!?"
You can't hide your confusion ,you can't believe what she just said, you remember eunseok with a slight smile on his face, tenderness in his eyes and sweetness in his voice, bringing you drinks, there is no way you are talking about the same man. Your day goes by and you can't help but think about what your colleague had said to you everytime you see eunseok. The day ends, yoj go home and lie on your bed still thinking about that conversation you had, but after all, you know your colleague is very nosy and she can be pretty annoying sometimes, you decide to not read too much into it and just go to sleep.
A few weeks later passes without much going on, you have a good relationship with eunseok, you both help each other when needed, you sometimes eat lunch with him just making random discussions, nothing is really special with your relationship, just two colleagues getting along well, you already gave up having anything more than that with him so it's good enough for you.
One day at work, you decide to do some sorting, you ask eunseok for help to move some heavy boxes around, you both go into a cramped storage room where you two can barely fit.
"Can you take those 2 boxes please?"
You point your finger to the boxes, on a shelf being too high for you, eunseok reaches the boxes on top of the shelf his shirt slightly tightening in the movement.
"Oh wait i need that"
While his arms are still raised going for the boxes, you reach for some stationary behind him, your cheek barely touching his back.
Eunseok jumps at the touch, taking a big step back, going as far away as he can in that small room, he looks a little puzzled, you instantly remind yourself of the first day you met him and how he jumped away from you in the elevator.
"Oh right you hate when I touch you, i'm sorry for making you uncomfortable i'll be careful from now on."
You do your best not to look too awkward, quickly trying to reach the door handle to get out of here as fast as you can, you could die of embarrassment right now.
"Noona wait!"
You froze, his pleading voice makes your face feel hot for a second. You turn around to take a look at him, he's is blushing like crazy, looking everywhere in the room, doing everything he can not to meet your gaze. He looks hesitant and say.
"I- I don't hate it, it's just... ever since I met you, when you touch me I don't know what to do with myself, please don't think I hate it."
You're a little taken aback by his response, you didn't expect him to feel that way about you and being so honest about it.
"Does that mean I can touch you?"
Eunseok nods, looking straight at you with his deep eyes.
Your head gets empty, you can't think of anything else but to touch him. You close the gap between him and you, put your hand on him, gently caressing his chest over his shirt, you watch him close his eyes in anticipation, you start going over his nipple gently playing with it with your finger while your other hand touches his waist, your heart is beating faster you feel a rush inside you, he's biting his hand to refrain for making any noise.
"Wait noona-"
His voice makes you stop immediately, realising you are at work and it's not the place nor the time to do things like that.
"Sorry let's stop here."
You quickly get out of the room without looking back, going to the bathroom locking yourself trying to process what just happened, your heart beating even faster, you can't believe what you just did, it's like your body acted on its own.
After calming down for a few minutes, you return to your desk, eunseok is already back to his, none of you dare to look at the other, you just avoid each other for the rest of the day which seemed to last forever.
Finally home you're still reminiscing about what happened, everytime you close your eyes you keep seing his face, him being so sensitive and all submissive to your touch, you start to think that maybe if it's him he won't runaway.
A few days passes and to your disappointment everything gets back to normal, you would do everything to see that expression on his face again but you have no idea how to bring that up, you're more of an introvert, not used to starts the conversation, then you notice that eunseok seems to avoid you, you keep questioning yourself, maybe he actually regrets it, maybe he hated you now, maybe you went too far... you're trying to decide if it's better to apologize or leave him alone.
One time your boss decides to bring everyone at a restaurant after work, it's basically hell for you, you try your hardest not to look at eunseok sitting in front of you, his loose tie, his shirt a little bit open, you could see his clavicles and his adam's apple. Your body wanted to stare at him and touch him everywhere, but you mostly didnât want him to hate you even more. The evening passes and everyone goes home one by one and now its just the 2 of you. The mood is so awkward it's almost hard to breathe, you're getting ready to leave fast before making him even more uncomfortable, then eunseok says.
"Do you want me to call you a cab?"
You're so relieved to finally hear him talk to you.
"No need I live around the corner i'll walk."
"It's late i'll go with you."
Eunseok looks at you with a hint of excitement waiting for your response.
"Sure, thanks" You couldn't possibly say no to that face anyway and why would you?
You gladly accept thinking that maybe he didn't think that bad of you.You start walking with eunseok in silence, the atmosphere is a little heavy but still way better than before, you quickly arrive in front of your apartment and start reaching for your keys in your bag, you pause looking at the door, you really want to stay with him a little more, you're thinking really hard to know if it's a good idea or a terrible one. You finally ask him.
"Do you wanna come in?"
You can see his eyes light up as he nods.
The two of you go into your appartement, you let out a small sigh of relief when you remember cleaning it the day before. You pour eunseok a glass of water and you both make yourself comfortable on your couches, sitting in front of each other. You're thinking about a nice thing to say to him that could break the tension between you two.
"You know Eunseok I'm very proud of you"
Eunseok looks happy but a little confused by your unexpected compliment.
"You learned everything so fast you basically got to my level in the first week and i've been working here for years, it's almost scary" You chuckle.
"But it's thanks to you, you were the best teacher, you explained everything so clearly I couldn't help but learn fast"
You can feel the sincerity in his voice, you smile at his kind words, relieved to see that he thinks that way about you.
"Thank you I needed to hear that"
Eunseok smiles, you both are silent for a few seconds then eunseok starts to be fidgety, his ears slightly getting pink, playing with his hands looking at his glass of water on the table.
"You know, I can't stop thinking about last time in the store room."
You can see at his face that he's remembering how good he felt, your eyes grow larger, you're so happy you're not the only one who has been replaying the scene over and over in your head, you come closer to eunseok sitting next to him. You decide to just go for it and in an instant you put your lips on his neck, eunseok jumps a little in surprise but doesn't back away, you keep nibbling at his neck hearing his breathing getting a little faster, you get closer to his ears and see them being bright red. You whisper sofltly in his ear.
"Do you want more?"
Eunseok nods, you put your hands on his tie and remove it, throwing it on the ground, you also remove some of the buttons of his shirt and start sliding your hand in it to touch his chest while still kissing his neck, eunseok shivers at your touch while you begin to touch his nipple, you can feel eunseok trying his best to hold back his voice, poor boy is so sensitive. You back away from his neck and look him in the eyes.
"Its just the two of us now, no need to refrain from making noises okay? Let me hear everything."
"Yes.."
Eunseok is so obedient, you would probably be mortified by how he treats anyone that isn't you. Ignoring everyone he doesn't want to talk to, women grabbing him by the arm trying to flirt while he just pushes them away with a cold face not even giving them a reaction. You sit on top of his thigh and put your hand on his face gently squishing it before kissing his lips, you slowly start putting your tongue, your hand grabbing his shoulder while the other is still under his shirt stroking his nipple.
"Eunseok"
You say in between kisses, you can't help but want to call his name making sure he knows he belongs to you right now. Your tongue going deeper inside his mouth, you can feel his bulge grow larger against your knee everytime you say his name. You start playing with his bulge with your knee slowly going further in. Eunseok doesn't dare to touch you, he lets you in control, he's all in your hands now ready to accept everything you'll do to him. You use one of your hand to touch his crotch through his pants, you can feel he's already hard, his pants looking like its gonna explode his dick begging to be free, he badly wants to remove his pants but you still want to play with him a little more. You get out of him and go on your knees in front of him, putting your face up his crotch and your hands grabbing his thighs, putting kisses and sucking on the fabric, you wish you could see the face he's making right now but everytime you try to see, his head is looking at the celling, his chest doing quick movements, panting more and more.
After some time his pants are wet by your spit, eunseok wants to beg you to set him free but he wouldn't dare giving you an order. After seeing him struggle making all kind of erotic sounds, you finally unzip his pants and pull down his underwear, revealing his dick already leaking in precum, the size is not too small and not too big, it's the perfect size to take care of, the tip is bubble gum pink looking like a candy waiting to be tasted. You can't help but put him whole in your mouth in one go, playing with his uretra with your tongue, going back and forth, doing all sort of sloppy noises tasting it as much as you can, sucking hard on it, you can feel it twitching in your mouth. You're so focus on tasting him you don't realise he's already about to cum.
"W-wait noona ugh"
Before he can cum, you decide you want to be somewhere more comfortable your knees was starting to hurt on the carpet and you really wanted to savor the moment, thinking it would be a shame to not see the face he's gonna make while he cums. You stop, get up, grab him by the arm and bring him to your bedroom, Eunseok follows you without any questions, you push him on your bed and you can't wait to make a mess out of this man. You get on top of him and start undressing him, he's now only in his undies, you can finally take a good look at his body, everything about it is so pretty, slightly carved abs, cute nipples and a tiny waist perfect for you to grab. You couldn't believe the sight, a man was lying in your bed, his eyes begging you to touch him and do everything you want with him, it's all you've ever dreamed of. You lean on him, putting kisses everywhere you can, his neck, abs, thighs, he's shaking and moaning when you start playing with his nipple with your tongue. You slide your right hand is his undies to play with his balls while gently biting his nipple, his legs spreading and his knees bending as you do so you can reach all the right places, he can't help but groan and pant at the stimulation. You stop playing with his balls to use your middle finger to tease his hole, he shivers and moan at the touch.
"Can I?"
Eunseok still panting "yes.. please"
You can barely contain the excitement of his response, you remove his underwear and take him in your mouth once again while putting your middle finger in him, slowly going back and forth, up and down, left and right, you then put your ring finger and start bending them to reach his prostate, eunseok's hips shaking and raising almost imploring you to do even more, his dick deep in your mouth getting even harder. You can hear his moans getting heavier. Your hand go faster while you lick his dick inside your mouth, his hole clenching almost about to break your fingers in half.
"Too much.. I'm gonna-"
eunseok bites his bottom lip, his dick twitching more and more, his hole pulsing, you remove his dick from you mouth so he can cum on his stomach, while youre still playing with his prostate, the orgasm washes over him like he got struck by lightning, his hips raising and trembling like crazy making loud moans, grabbing the mattresse so hard you can see his veins popping out.
"Ahh.. ahh..."
His breathing is so fast, the sight makes you so wet you can't believe you're the one responsible for his state, his eyes half closed and watering looking like he just went to heaven, while he calms down still looking dizzy, you get of your bed and open a box next to it, you take a strap-on out of it, you're so happy to finally have a use for it, you bought it a few months ago cause you were wondering what you would look like with one around your hips, you clumsily put it on and get on top of eunseoks chest putting your strap on near his face, he's still being hazy, excited for what comes next.
"Can you do that for me eunseok?"
Your voice almost sounding a little mean.
He quickly understands, nods and open his mouth, letting you fuck it as you wish, going in and out hitting the back of his throat. The sight makes you feel so good almost like he was really sucking your dick, watching your strap-on disappearing in his mouth. The sloppy sounds he makes are driving you crazy, you grab him by the head to go faster Eunseok is groaning grabbing the sheets of the beds, drooling all over your strap-on, you slowly caress his cheek.
"Such a good boy"
Eunseok flushes at your words, something about you prasing him always make him so happy.
After your strap-on is covered and his spit, you get out of him and turn him on all four,
His behind is so pretty, his hole is twitching and throbbing waiting for you, you almost wanna eat it but you decide to keep that for another time. You put two fingers into him going left and right making sure his hole is stretched enough to welcome you, you start putting the tip of your strap-on to his hole teasing it, still dripping in his saliva.
"I'll go slowly, if its uncomfortable make sure to tell me ok?"
"Okay..."
You slowly and as gently as possible put your strap-on inside of him, eunseok is holding his breath while the whole thing goes inside him, you let him get used to you for a moment and start going back and forth at a slow pace, Eunseok moans and grabs the sheets like he's holding on for dear life, you use your hands to grab his waist, making him arch his back with your touch while he burries his face in your pillow, you see his hips trying to grind even more towards you, you start going faster and his moans are getting louder, your strap hitting all of his good spots, tickling his prostate over and over you can hear him whine everytime you hit the right places, and each time the back of your strap-on hits your cunt it feels so good you let out some moans too, you grab and pinch his butt making it a pretty shade of red while you're getting deeper into him.You can barely hear him say "noona" again and again inside your pillow, he raises his hips high removing your strap on from him and cums on your sheets, shivering and breathing shakily, his feet kicking the bed, his knees giving up he's now lying on his stomach breathing hard through the sheets, you take this time to calm yourself down too, after a moment he gathers himself, turns around to sit and put his back against the headboard.
You both look at each other glancing up and down, he looks so cute with his hair in a mess, then eunseok realises.
"but noona you didn't-"
"stay still"
Eunseok watches you silently while you remove your strap-on, pants, panties and your bra, letting you with only a thin white shirt, Your perky nipples showing through it. You get on top of his leg and starts grinding against it, your cunt dripping everywhere on his leg, you take one of his hand and put it on your waist while you put yours on his chest for support. Eunseok widen his eyes at your move, it's his first time actually touching you, something about it feels wrong like he's doing something he shouldn't do, he worships you so much it feels to him like he's touching a goddess. Seeing you jump on his leg, your breast going up and down behind your shirt, while using him like a sextoy almost makes him go insane, you keep humping on his legs while you french kiss him and moan in his mouth, you grind faster and deeper, his soft skin against your folds feels so good, it doesn't take long for you to come, your cunt was already throbbing from the beginning. A strong shiver goes over all of your body, your nails digging in eunseok's skin. You take a minute to rest on his chest, he gently pets your head and kisses your hair while you calm your breathing.
After a moment of hugging each other you both go in the bathroom washing each other, eunseok looks at you with big puppy eyes full of affection.
"You should sleep here, i'll wash your clothes and change the sheets."
Eunseok agrees and you both go to sleep, like an habit eunseok snuggles in your arms while you touch his silky hair, you both fall asleep and the awkwardness between you two totally vanished like you've known each other for years.
#eunseok#song eunseok#smut#riize#riize x reader#riize imagines#riize smut#eunseok smut#fanfiction#fanfic
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Return of Sunshine
Okie dokie. Hey look it isn't several months before I am posting again. Go me! I am back with a part 2 to Mr Fancy Pants, @avengers-fixation requested some set in this imagine. So here it is. This is just after Sunshine returns from their undercover op. I hope you all enjoy.
I do recommend reading Mr Fancy Pants first to get a better feel for the reader and what happened, as it is alluded to in this piece.
Also side note, the gif will totally make sense. Hehe.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of violence. Implied sexual content.
Mr Fancy Pants
Master List
Prompt List
Rafaelâs eyes kept glancing towards his phone where it sat next to the piles of paperwork he was slowly making his way through. And by slowly, he meant taking five minutes to read one paragraph, since his brain wasnât taking in anything. The reason for his lack of distraction? Sunshine. Godâs damn Sunshine. That FBI agent got under his skin, and now wonât leave. They had been messaging occasionally while Sunshine was undercover, it was only every few days, but Sunshine hadnât responded to his last message which was sent five days ago. They had never taken that long to respond. Rafael wasâŠworried. Worried that something had happened and it would be unlikely that Rafael would ever find out what.
Six months. It had only taken six months for Rafael to decide that he wanted Sunshine in his life. In what capacity he wasnât sure yet. He hadnât been able to meet up with Sunshine in person as it turns out they were correct and they had gotten the attention of their target and had quickly left.
âShit,â he muttered picking up his phone and navigating to the conversation with Sunshine. He stared at the last message.
To Sunshine: When you get back, we should grab a drink.
And then there was nothing. Rafael half worried that he had scared you off but then he remembered the little note you had left him. Stating that the flirting was over the top but based in truth. So, he knew you were interested in him. Which meant something had happened. He was so close to talking to Liv about this, about whether she had a way to see if you were okay but that meant telling her that the two of you had been talking for the past six months. And for some reason he wasnât quite ready to let others know. He wanted to keep this for himself, just for a little bit butâŠif it meant getting an answer on if you where safe maybe it would be worth it. He switched to Oliviaâs contact, finger hovering over the call button.
âHey there Mr Fancy Pants, long time no see,â Rafael felt his whole-body freeze, eyes widening at that voice as he looked over to the now open doorway of his office. He dropped his phone as he stood up from his chair so fast it hit the bookcase behind him.
âSunshine?â he asked, voice full of disbelieve.
âMiss me?â your lips quirked up in a teasing grin as you walked into his office, closing the door behind you. The response you got from just showing up out of the blue with no warning was so definitely worth it. Even knowing he was probably going to chew you out. You hadnât meant to ignore him for five days but your phone got destroyed and then there was paperwork and by the time you were free to go with orders for two months leave from your bosses you decided you just wanted see him.
âYouâŠyouâre okay?â well that was not what you expected him to say. Youâre teasing grin softened as you walked around his desk to stand next to him, he looked so worried and so relieved that you were there.
âYeah, I mean Iâm a little banged up but Iâm okay,â you smiled at him. His hands were twitching so you reached out to grab them, holding them in your own. âIâm sorry that I havenât contacted you. My phone got destroyed, and then everything just went from 0 to 100 real quick and I only just got clearance for leave from my bosses and I just wanted to see you.â
âYou wanted to see me?â Rafael questioned. His eyes seemed to be stuck on your intertwined hands, your struggled to keep your smile from growing back to the teasing grin, as it appeared Rafael was struggling to process everything. It occurred to you that your silence might have affected him in a way you hadnât anticipated. Over the six months you had been messaging the lawyer you had grown to like him quite a lot but you hadnât realised that maybe he had grown to like you as well.
âI did,â you nodded. âI wanted to tell you in person that I wonât be going undercover for a while, and that I would love to get a drink with you.â
Rafaelâs eyes snapped up to yours at that, the shock of seeing you finally fading. He wanted to keep holding your hands, he never wanted to let you go. He squeezed your hands as his lips curled into his normal cocky smirk.
âHave I had that much of an effect on you, Sunshine?â Rafael asked raising an eyebrow. Early on in your messages back and forth he asked you if he could continue to call you Sunshine, that he kind of liked the name for you. You had agreed easily, for some reason it felt right to be called Sunshine by him.
âDonât go getting a big head handsome,â you rolled your eyes, reluctantly pulling your hands away from his as you leant against his desk. âBut yes, you have. And apparently, I had quite the effect on you as well. But well, that isnât a surprise really. I am fabulous.â
ââŠSo, the persona you took on for this case wasnât really far from the truth?â
âOkay, rude, but no not really,â you shrugged casually looking at your nails. âThe best kind of undercover alias is one that isnât far from the truth, easier to remember. Of course, there have been times my personality is nothing like my actual one but well, sickos apparently like my sunny disposition.â
Rafael studied you closely, watching the way you spoke those words. You hated that fact yet the way you said it so casually showed how much you didnât want others to know that. He wondered how often you spent being other people, and if you ever truly let others see the real you, not just pieces here and there but everything. And he found himself wishing he could be that person.
âA drink,â Rafael suggested picking his phone up before holding out his hand to you.
âWhat now?â you asked raising an eyebrow, your eyes flicking towards the clock on the wall. âItâs not even 5, and you looked a little busy.â
âMy work can wait,â Rafael felt his face twitch at that comment, as his eyes dropping to the pile of paperwork on his desk that he hadnât made any headway in.
âFrom that look I doubt it can,â you chuckled, taking his hand to press a kiss on his knuckles. Grinning when you saw his cheeks flush. âWeâll get drinks, but later, after your work for the day is done. Iâll come back at five on the dot to pick you up.â
You didnât let him make any arguments, only squeezing his hand as you pushed away from the desk, pausing long enough to press a kiss to his cheek before leaving the office, throwing a quick wink over your shoulder as you left out the door. Rafael stood there frozen, his hand still in the air from where you let it go.
âOh.â
--
âCome on, gorgeous,â you walked through his doors without even knocking. âItâs five and itâs time for that drink.â
You frowned briefly when the man in question was not at his desk. You tilted your head as you slowly scanned his office, pausing when you saw him sitting on the couch just inside the door. A pen paused halfway to his mouth and his wide eyes staring at you.
âSunshine,â he said, eyes flicking to the clock. âPunctual.â
âObviously,â you grinned. âAn FBI agent is always on time.â
âI have several police detectives who might argue otherwise,â Rafael sassed throwing his pen on the table and standing up. Your eyes drifted down the line of his torso as he stretched his arms up.
âHm-hm,â you hummed not bothering to feel offended by that. It didnât matter that you were friends with Liv and Finn, there would always be animosity between Feds and local police. âWell, come on handsome, times awastinâ.â
âIn such a hurry, Sunshine?â
âOnly for you Mr Fancy Pants,â you winked holding out your hand, wiggling your fingers at him and grinning. âAnd donât even try to deny that you werenât watching the clock for the past four hours.â
Rafael felt his insides warming, he couldnât say anything because you were correct, he had absolutely been watching the clock. But that was not something he would be telling you. His eyed your wiggling hand, lips twitching up in amusement as he reached out for it. He couldnât resist you and your ridiculous ways. This night stood be rather amusing. Â
--
âOh bullshit!â you giggled, the third whiskey making you warm. And that was the story you were sticking with. It nothing to do with how close you were sitting to Rafael body twisted to face him, one leg pulled up under you, or the fact that he had his arm resting on the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.
âAsk Finn,â Rafael shrugged, cheeks warm as you leaned closer to him.
âOkay first off, Finn would totally back that bullshit story, so I would not be trusting him,â waving your finger in his face. âSecondly, there is no way the judge allowed the defendant to choke you with a belt.â
âFine, ask Liv or Amanda,â Rafael took a sip of his scotch. âOr I do believe there is a video of it up on the internet somewhere.â
âYouâre shitting me?â you pulled out your phone. âI have got to find this.â
âGood luck,â
âSweetie, you seem to be forgetting that I am Special Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigations,â waving away his comment you quickly typed on your phone. âGot it.â
Rafael almost choked on his drink at your statement. He had clearly underestimated your ability to find things on the internet. He couldnât help but watch your face, before watching the video it had been lit up with a triumph look that he wanted to see all the time. He was fascinated as emotions played across your face, confusion, amusement, and concern? And oh, that was something new he hadnât seen on your face yet. It looked like, rage?
âDude,â your eyes slowly raised up to his the look in them pinning him in place, he wondered if this is how criminals felt when locked in a room with you. âYou could have been seriously hurt. What were you thinking?â
âThat I had to get that arsehole to show the court who he truly is,â Rafael shrugged, eyebrows furrowed as he studied you more. Was that rage directed at him? âAre you mad at me for something I did nearly three years?â
âNo, yesâŠmaybe, I donât know,â you huffed dropping your phone back on the table and lent against the back of the booth, which resulted in you leaning against his arm. âYou put yourself in danger, which is admirable and explains so much about you.â
Rafael had to admit he was a little confused, the others had shown concern for him but not anger at his actions. It wasâŠan odd feeling. He kind of liked it. And.
âBeing angry at me for it explains a lot about you,â he said, his fingers curling to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. Your skin prickled at the touch, as you lent into it.
âI suppose it does,â you breathed, voice raspy. âI should point out, that he is lucky I wasnât there. I would have punched him in the throat.â
âThen it definitely is a good thing you werenât there,â he chuckled. âThat would have caused some issues and I would have been furious about it. But thank you.â
âWell, gotta defend my handsome little lawyer,â you grinned moving a little closer to Rafael so your bent knee touched his thigh, you wanted more contact with him. The hand playing with the hair on your nape settled there, his thumb stroking gently. That contact made it feel like electricity was running under your skin.
âLittle?â
âThatâs what you focused on?â
âYouâve been calling me handsome since you met me,â
âWell, sure butâŠoh never mind,â you giggled reaching for your whiskey to finish it off but quickly moved back to the same position hoping that Rafael would put his hand back. You almost sighed in happiness when he did, a slight squeeze accompanying it.
Rafael couldnât help it, the way you responded to his touch made him happy. He wondered if you knew that your eyes just lit up or that you pushed back into his hand. His hand and thigh felt like they were burning but he was definitely not removing his hand or moving away from your knee. Especially if you kept looking at him like that like he wasâŠoh. You sent Rafael a puzzled look when his eyes seemed to heat up before he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing as he covered his mouth with his hand, eyes shifting to you and then away very quickly.
âSunshine,â Rafael said voice soft with affection. âWould you like come back to mine for some coffee?â
âCoffee?â you said, face soft with a fond look as you leaned close to him. âIs that all?â
âWhat else would my Sunshine like to do?â he gently lifted your chin before stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.
âHmm, maybe I wanna kiss my Fancy Pants lawyer,â you answered leaning closer, your lips stopping just before his so your next words caused your lips to brush together. âIâve been waiting six months.â
âWell, canât have you waiting any longer, that would be a crime.â
You finally allowed yourself to sigh happily when his lips pressed firmly against yours. His tongue teasingly swiping against your lips before withdrawing. He pulled away pressing his forehead against yours.
âMy place,â he suggested eyes burning brightly. âNow.â
âFuck yes.â
#writing#imagine#imagines#law and order svu#fluff#law and order svu imagines#rafael barba#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#gender neutral reader#Mr Fancy Pants 2#Reader is still a tease#Reader still loves to flirt#especially with Rafael Barba#But like who wouldn't?#Rafael is once again confued#Sunshine has that affect on him#Sunshine is mad at Rafael for something he did three years ago#But won't like to themselves....it was hot#Rafael x gender neutral reader#Rafael teases Sunshine#Sunshine has stopped working
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Feel free to ignore if you don't like this or it makes you uncomfortable! Would you write one if Auli'i characters comforting reader who struggles with S/H?
That Iâm not the carefullest of girls
Amber Appleton x fem! reader
Warnings: implied & some mentions of SH
You'd often tease Amber for being way too observant for her own good. At first, that was all it wasâ teasing.
But then things got bad for you again and when she noticed, you didn't just tease her- you got mad. Usually, people around you would get mad at you in return of your 'attitudeâ, but not Amber. No, she got worried. "Sweetheart, please talk to me, okay? I wanna help you."
You shook your head, "I'm fine."
Her brows furrowed together, hand on your shoulder and you turned your head to look away from her. You nearly shrugged her hand off, but resisted that urge.
Somehow, she slid her hand down your arm wanting to hold onto your hand. But when she got to your wrists, you flinched at the contact. It stung. Amber bites back a sigh, knowing what that meant.
The first bell rings, saving you from an unwanted conversation. You stormed away, shoulder brushing against hers when you walked by. You couldnât do this, not today.
After home room, you saw Amber again in class but you didnât say a word to her. You were determined not to. You didnât want to talk to her about it, how youâve been hurting yourself. Amber would definitely ask why you did what you did.
She meant well, of course. Your mind just didnât want to take the questions the way she means them. Especially when youâve relapsed. That didnât stop her from asking you questions, though. At lunch, she brought up what happened in the morning and you just froze, staring back at her blankly.
âWeâre not going to just forget about this if thatâs what youâre hoping.â Amber revealed. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, pushing your food around on its plate as you looked down at it. You were fuming, how could she be so harsh with her words? It felt like a stab to your heart. You had half a mind to leave her alone at the table, but somehow you didnât. You just sat there and stared at your lunch, occasionally eating till the bell went off.
The rest of the day felt dreadfully slow, but you made it. Then you proceeded to walk towards the exit of the school, paying no mind to Amber who was a few feet behind you. ây/n!â She seethed. âStop walking. Right now.â Your breath hitches, your feet stopped, her wrist grabs yours. âLet me go! Stop it!â You snapped. You were literally a foot away from the exit. Tears were pricking at your eyes from the sting of your wrists. âLet. Me. Go.â Your voice quivered with each word, âLet me go. Please. Iâm sorry.â
Amber immediately lets go, blinking away tears of her own. âI want to talk to you, we need to talk about this. You need to talk about it.â
Chewing on your lip, you decided to give in, âNot here.â The longer you avoided her, the longer youâd be feeling like this.
You walked in silence with Amber back to her place. She holds onto your hand though, and she doesnât seem angry anymore. So you were less tense. But once you were standing in her apartment, watching her put her bag down, the fear returns. And apparently, shame bubbles up in your stomach.
âI know itâs hard. And some days are even harder and everything seems very overwhelming. But I need you to knowâ I need you to remember that I will always be here for you.â
âStuff at home got really bad and I didnât know what to do. I didnât want to burden you with my problems again because I already do that enough. I donât want to be your responsibility.â You broke down, âI really tried to do something else. I really tried to focus on other things to take my mind off those thoughts but in the end it stillââ
Amber feels the lump in her throat growing more painful. She swallows harshly, hurriedly engulfing you in a hug. âYouâŠare never a burden. I love you, y/n. Iâm always going to be right by your side. Iâm here for you, if you need company, if you need to talk, if you need hugs and cuddles or anything at allâŠIâve got you. I know home is messy, itâs scary sometimes. So, come on over here. Stay here, with me. If you need me to pick you up, call me or text me. You will always have a home with me, my love. Always. Hm?â
âIâm sorry.â You blubbered.
âI know you are, sweetheart. But donât be, youâre doing your best. I can see that. Iâve been seeing that. Let me take care of you.â
âI love you.â You told her shakily, âI love you so much, thank you for everything. Thank you for loving me.â
ây/n, I promised. Youâre never gonna be able to get rid of me if you tried.â She held your face in her hands, stroking your cheek with her thumbs. Amber checked your dressings and helped you with getting new ones in place after making sure that everything was fine and not infected. âYou never have to go through anything alone ever again. I promise. I need you to remember that. Itâs okay to ask for help. I get that itâs hard to, but youâre safe with me, y/n.â
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@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128
#auliâi cravalho#amber appleton#all together now netflix#x reader#reader insert#reader imagine#wlw#gxg#mature themes#mdni#reader discretion advised#tw sh related#anon request#requested fic#alternative universe#drabble#hurt/comfort#angst
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⊠MY ONE AND ONLY
gn!reader, sfw, white day gift for @mixed-kester , i hope u like it <3
SHOPPING WITH KAEYA!!!
Liyue is a nation known for its abundant mines full of precious ores and its prosperous trade. the silk flower, which is a local speciality, known for its ability to produce silky-smooth fabric benefits the nation's textile industry tremendously. due to these reasons kaeya chooses the nation to be the destination for your little shopping trip.
kaeya does enjoy giving you gifts. other than physical touch and words of affirmation, gift giving is also one of his love languages. he often comes home with little trinkets or clothing items to suprise you. so, the fact that he's going to pay for everything is already established before you enter one of the well known textile shops in liyue. he's glad that the past few days spent by filling up paperwork continuously is finally worth it.
you'll hear him click his tongue in a rather disapproving tone when you stray away from the clothes you obviously like because of how expensive they are. he places them back into your hands and encourages you to try them on with a kiss while casually dismissing the employee who arrives to assist you with his smooth talk. he thinks that there is no need for someone else to help you when your lover is right there with you.
his teasing nature makes its appearance again as both of you enter the private dressing room. hands wander up and down your waist and squeeze your hips as he helps you tie up any loose strings and adjust the clothing over your body. he can't help but leave kisses on the nape of your neck and lean over, with his lips brushing the shell of your ear to praise about how good you look with a low and sultry tone to his voice.
"kae...it tickles.." you whine as he nuzzles his face further into neck to leave light kisses there while grabbing your waist to pull you more closer to him, if that was even possible.
"just a few more darling, you look too good for me to not savour you"
SIGHTSEEING WITH WANDERER!!!
After his confrontation with the traveler and gaining an anemo vision, lesser lord kusanali grants him a chance for a proper closure he truly desired and also the time to heal himself, which he utilizes by traveling across the vast nation of sumeru. he has seen all kinds of things and met all kinds of people but they hold no value when compared with you. no matter how far his journey takes him, he always returns to the loving home he shares with you, just as promised.
wanderer does remember the way you mentioned your wish of wanting to watch the sunset with him. he never understood why sunsets were mesmerizing to mortals until the lesser lord explained how they can be both romantic and healing to witness and advised him to take you out to watch them one day as a date. even though he made a snide remark about how cliché all of it was, the thought of sitting side with you to witness the nightfall did fluster him
with some much needed encouragement from the lesser lord, he shows up at your doorstep with a small picnic basket saying that he wanted to take you somewhere, eyes wandering all over the place but never making contact with yours. he holds your hand throughout the journey and tightens his grip if he feels like you're about to let go. you find yourself standing at below one of the fluorescent mushrooms in the mawtiyima forest with him when he declares that the both of you have reached the destination he desired
with the help of his vision, he gently settles you down on top of the giant mushroom and takes his place beside you to finally confess that he desired to watch the sunset with you too. a faint blush spreads across his cheeks as you lean your head on his shoulder while watching the sun slowly dissappear behind the horizon and puts his own head on top of yours in response. the evening was rather peaceful, with the occasional banter shared between the both of you which made it a rather memorable one
"tch, are you really trying to reward me for my efforts with a mere 'thank you'? his lips curl into a rather smug smirk as you slightly panic. knuckles brush against your jaw to gently lift your face up and bring you closer to him.
"how 'bout a kiss to accompany that, dove?"
REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!
a/n: srry if this was rushed and cringey, i was a lil busy with uni stuff :(
#giwhiteday2023#astronetwrk#kaeya x reader#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya fluff#scaramouche fluff#wanderer fluff#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#á± á± â creations
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