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juletheghoul · 2 months ago

Text

educational

a/n: I still have so many asks for this man, and I have not forgotten them! Thank you to everyone who voted, to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog on my posts. You have no idea how you all have reinvigorated my love for writing, a million hugs and cuddles for all of you. I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! This isn't beta'd, barely proofread. Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The sun was oppressive. It beat down with a vengeance and the fan in your hand did nothing to alleviate the waves of heat permeating the market. You had half a mind to head right back to the villa, to ask Marcus to bring you on another day when you could focus on anything other than the drops of sweat sliding down your spine, making your new robes stick to your skin. Or the way the stiff leather sandals on your feet rubbed your ankles raw.

Running back to the villa didn’t seem right however, it tasted too much of defeat, of a refusal to accept your new place in this world and the thought of your General, your husband being disappointed in your inability to shop for yourself put eels into your belly. Gritting your teeth, you continued your hunt for the things you needed.

“What about this Domina?” Your new attendant, a girl a few years younger than you had been when you’d first joined his house pointed at a blessedly covered stall, golden trinkets glittering where the sun poked through gaps in the covering catching your eye.

“Let us look.” You smiled, making your way over. There you found a lovely perfumed oil for your skin, at a fairly reasonable price. You also found some of the incense Marcus liked, and a new brush for his hair. You bought them, even though he had sent you with the intent to buy things for yourself. With your purchases made and in the hands of your guards you decided to finally return home, when another stall caught your eye. Gauzy sheer linens covered most of it but when the warm breeze blew them aside, glittering jewels flashed.

The woman running the stall smiled when you entered, she had streaks of grey in her hair, lovely oiled skin and eyes as dark as night.

Opals with fire caught inside them hung on golden racks, rubies the size of walnuts, emeralds as green as fresh laurel leaves glittered, all of them entrancing you enough to pull your hands out to touch them.

“With your skin, those would look lovely.” She walked over, pulling dark blue sapphire earrings from their place on her wall and holding them to your ears. “Beautiful.”

“They are gorgeous, I must admit.” Marcus had told you to buy whatever you wanted, had given you enough coin to splurge but you hesitated. Your eyes fell to a small book on a shelf, a picture of a man and a woman on the cover.

“That is… very educational. Especially for a married woman.” She pulled the book off the shelf, placing it into your hands for you to peruse. The contents made you gasp. It was a guide book, a guide for the art of love. The art of copulation. There were diagrams, positions to try, all manner of things you’d never even thought of.

Heat rushed to your face, the thought of showing Marcus, of trying them with him made the heat grow and spread to the place between your thighs.

“You must have it, I have no doubt your husband will enjoy it, you as well.” She winked and you laughed a nervous little laugh, nodding conspiratorially.

“You should adorn yourself for him, something glittering, something precious.” She gestured to the jewels once more and you bit your lip, wondering what to choose until you saw what looked to be a belt of different coloured gems.

“I like this–is it for my waist?” You slid your fingers across it.

“That would be perfect, not just your waist my lady.” She undid the clasps and arranged it, draping it onto your body. “Usually the ladies wear them over a simple robe to elevate it, but I think it would look just as beautiful against the skin, if you take my meaning.” You could see it, the top part of it like a necklace, with a long line of gems between your breasts leading down to connect with another line of it like a belt.

With an ache for him, and a considerably lighter purse, you left with your purchases and made your way home once more.

He was occupied, held up in his study with representatives from the Emperor, a senator and a whole host of others taking up his time with important matters. You left him to it, and busied yourself with your own preparations.

The tub was steaming and fragrant when you submerged yourself. Dried flowers and sweet smelling oils swirling with every movement, all manner of different elements coming together to soften your skin and make you shine for him. Thoughts of what he would think of your book fill your mind as you cleanse yourself of the day, musings about what he might choose pull at the corners of your lips as you run the clean washcloth across the expanse of your chest and thighs.

You oil your skin once out of the tub, arrange your hair and adorn yourself with jewels. Golden bracelets and anklets he’d gifted you on your wedding night, an armband shaped like a snake, earrings that dangle and trap the light when you move, the special body chain from the stand. You feel like a goddess, like a priestess readying yourself for worship.

By the time he comes to bed the need, the arousal is fierce enough to make your hands shake.

“Apologies my love, I was hoping to have been done sooner but—“ he catches sight of you then, sprawled out on the bed, an airy robe leaving nothing to the imagination, the small book in your hands. His eyes devour you, robbing him of his words, making your heart race.

“I have something for you, something for us.” You rise, exaggerating the swing in your hips with every step you take towards him. Your adornments jingle, a pleasant sound rings with every stride.

“Do you now?” He licks his lips, and presses his palm to his growing bulge at the sight of you. “I have something for you too, growing stiff and aching.” His hand reaches for you as you get closer, pulling you into his embrace.

“I do not doubt that.” You laugh, pressing your palms to his chest to keep him from pushing you onto your bed.

“I would very much like to give it to you, nice and deep.” His eyes are so lust blown that the warm brown is now a cold black. A moan escapes at his words, at the feel of his kiss on your throat.

“First, I would like you to look through the book I bought today.” He frowns, confused at the apparent shift. “I believe it could be very educational for us.”

If you weren’t so aroused, so excited to experiment you might have laughed at his expression. Naked shock was all you could see on his face. Never, in all your years within the villa, within his presence had you ever rendered him speechless before. The effect is titillating.

Wordlessly he peruses the pages, cheeks flushing, attention rapt at the diagrams and instructions shown within.

“Gods above.” Your smile deepens at the low whisper of his voice, nerves fraying with anticipation.

“I am particularly curious about this one.” With trembling hands, you flip the pages to a certain diagram, where the woman is sitting on the man's lap but facing away, her legs closed tightly between his legs underneath her. The thought of Marcus having you that way floods your body with heat. His mouth at your ear, his hands free to slip between your legs or hold onto the weight of your breasts.

Silently he studies the book, eyes intent. His quiet intensity fills the air between you, it makes you wring your hands with nervous anticipation, almost makes you wonder if you’ve gone too far. Your nerves fray the longer he stares, the old fear of disappointing or upsetting him creeps up your spine, until he smiles and licks his lip.

“You, my love, continue to surprise me.” He closes the book and sets it aside.

“Do I?” You take his hand in yours, and press it to your lips, desperate for his approval and for his love.

“Oh yes. Just when I think I cannot be any more fortunate, you spoil me and show me another facet of your love.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to stand between his spread legs at the edge of your bed, pulling the robe off to expose your nakedness.

“Look at you.” His palms slide from the sides of your thighs past your hips where they touch the jewels that adorn your waist. Up, up, up until his thumbs flick at your nipples.

“You are yourself, my most precious jewel. So beautiful–” He presses his face to your breast, his lips gliding across your skin between words, “-kind, adventurous and brave, sweet as summer fruit,” he skims his nose over the top of your breast before licking at the stiff peak. With a sigh you hold him close, fingernails scratching at his neck, slipping through the fine grey waves, cradling his head close.

Your heart races as he pours his love onto you, any and all fears are quieted to nothing under the silky slip of his palms against your back. His mouth forms a tight seal around your nipple, enough that it makes you gasp. His smile is predatory, confident and it makes you laugh; half nervous, half exhilarated.

Your breasts shine with the oil, and his spit when he lets go. You take the opportunity to pull his robes up and off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his manhood, hard and leaking for you.

“Turn around.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, deep and commanding, irrefutable. His lips press to your shoulder, moving down to your lower back, you squeal in shock and delight to feel his teeth on the meat of your ass.

“I could devour you whole, do you know that?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

The arousal is enough to choke you, enough to ease the glide of himself against your sex. Butterflies swarm as he pulls you back, guiding his own weeping tip to the tight fist of your cunt until you sink, slowly onto him. You gasp at just how deep, just how full you feel like this.

“Gods above, woman.” His grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise, his voice strangled in your ear.

It is so much better than you had imagined.

His thighs bracket yours as you adjust to the fullness, slick dribbles out of you and drenches his lap when his hands do exactly as you hoped they might. With deft fingers he pinches and pulls at your sensitive nipples, teasing the peaks mercilessly as you begin a tentative bounce on his lap.

“Is this how you wanted it?” His breath tickles your neck, painting your skin in gooseflesh.

“Yes, yes Marcus, just like this-“ your head falls back onto his shoulder, the arousal so fierce it burns through you, sets your heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, trapped in the cage of your ribs.

“Take it, take your pleasure from me my love, ride this cock—“ he bucks up, pulling a pained moan from somewhere inside you.

“That’s it, you can do it, milk my fucking cock.” His arm tightens around your middle and you can feel the jewels pinching at your skin, the edge of pain only heightens the pleasure coursing through your veins, ripping a swathe through your body in the shape of him, always him.

Thick fingers force their way between the tight press of your thighs, pinching at your swollen clit and it’s almost too much. Sweat beads in your hairline, slips between your bodies as you roll your hips harder, clenching around him with every tight bounce.

There are no more words, only the harsh pant of his breath in your ear, the slick, vulgar sound of your wet arousal; the whimpering heralding your climax.

His fingers leave your clit and you whine, the demand for them to return on the tip of your tongue but he quells it, pressing those same fingers into your mouth. He takes the saliva from your mouth, and returns his fingers to their task. The slip is just right and with a silent scream you freeze, squeezing him tight enough for him to hiss, tight enough to do just as he wanted and milk him for all he’s worth.

His grip around your middle softens, the jewels have left indents in his skin as well as yours, you pull his arm up to press your lips to it.

Once the blood has settled and you’ve caught your breath, you pull away from him, turning to settle in his lap again only this time facing him.

His expression is pure bliss, flushed with exertion and smiling with the ghost of his climax still painting his features.

“I must send you to the market more often, spoil you as you spoil me.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck just as his wrap tightly around your waist.

“So you are pleased with my purchase then?” Your lips press to his mouth, his cheek, the little hairless spot on his chin, your favourite constellation to map out.

“I am more than pleased with it, but I must study it in depth. So many things to try, so many lessons for us to learn from this book, hmm?” He skims his nose across the column of your throat, smiling into your skin as your heart races for him even with your pleasure still coursing through you.

“…And you know that I am a quick learner, my love.”

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miniseokminnies · 1 month ago

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the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own.

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him.

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?”

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time.

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again.

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh.

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table.

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch”

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before?

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation. After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table.

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate.

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to. You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing. Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe. He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook. You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him. He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time. Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?”

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses,

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.”

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed.

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you. You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway”

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side. Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings. For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school. When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board.

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan. The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you. You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping.

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.”

“What?” you blinked up at him. He bent down to get closer to your face,

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation”

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you,

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him. Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table. He easily took your hand and shook it.

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching. With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly. This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves. If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated.

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate. He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean. Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board. You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won”

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!”

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him,

“Really?”

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face. He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance. Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.

“What?” you spat defensively.

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his. He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly. The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns. You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book. By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did. Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves.

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice. Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open. Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.

“Checkmate” you declared. Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes. You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him. Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes.

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips. With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind. His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten. Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him. He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim. He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain. He tangled his hands in your hair.

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed. When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside. Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat. There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty. There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party. You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear. You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand. Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly. You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together. The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly. “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass. He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat. During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people. You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed. On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room. You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across.

You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child. You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up. Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room. He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers. Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you. Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer. He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan. He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,” he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there. Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.”

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night”

“No”

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in. You held strong. Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass. He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot.

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches,

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly,

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer. If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson”

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?”

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own. You thought for a moment,

“Why do you play chess?” you asked.

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me. I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.”

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round. You both drank the shot with no complaint.

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them. Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain. Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.

“January 2”

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?”

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving. Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you. His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.

“Are you drunk?” he asked

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him.

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment. After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it. He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance. Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him. Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth. Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time. Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach. The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching.

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours. He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?” You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor. You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip. He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady”

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.” You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin. Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him. Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room. He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night. Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed. On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up. He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him. You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer. He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises. He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts. The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before. You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra. He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge. He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head. Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave. Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust.

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some”

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet. His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you. “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

All you could do was nod.

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ‘em spread” he commanded. His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear. He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious. He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction. This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips. “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut.

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers. Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly. The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you. His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease. You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now. He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high. Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater. Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips. What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading. You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark. He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you. Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed. Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board.

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you. “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone. However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too.

His timer clicked, he made his first move. Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his. You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening. Your timer clicked. Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time. He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants. You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense. You let him have some meaningless captures.

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident. You captured his bishop. You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves. You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer. You looked at him from under your lashes and waited.

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point. His hesitancy was evident,

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.”

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board. Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays. The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards. Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door. You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting. He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra.

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?” he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering,

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?”

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed. Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting. Almost as if he belonged here in a way. “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you. He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night.

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him. You watched as he moved the rook into position,

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly,

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response. Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while. His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites.

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for”

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours. What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone. Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused. He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about.

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest. You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers. He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers. His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters,

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response. He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?”

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt. He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore. You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue. In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling. He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly. Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck. Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you. Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside. You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit. Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth. He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way. You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt. He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin. He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes. You readjusted on the bed. He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry. The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”

“I want to,” you whispered. He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours. He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance. You took a deep breath.

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious. He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance. The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers. He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you. He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly. He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips. It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls. The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan. “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.”

He doesn’t. Neither do you. He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely. What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent. He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right. Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You okay, Dove?”

“I’m fab,” you breathed. Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you. He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels. He returned with one and helped clean you up. He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed. He ran his hands through his hair.

When you came back you laid back down together. You draped your legs over his. The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours. You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe. Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence. Cute, Jeonghan thought. He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket. Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed. With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you. You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?”

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking. You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?”

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?”

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid”

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building. Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?”

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.”

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?”

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you. He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?”

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy. He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man.

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.

“She has you sewing,” Mingyu stifled a laugh.

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,” Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle. Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at. Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life. So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place. He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind. If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team. You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money. Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao. Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board. Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring. He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt. He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it. You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head. Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”. A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans. He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about. He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric. “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him. You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was. The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago. A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger. You chose anger.

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on. He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.

“You still stole from me!”

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!”

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you. For once he was at a loss for words.

You’re in over your head, you have to be. You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life. The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers. You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs. Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror. You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath. Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well. Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly.

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.” You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor. He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers. You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you. Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day. You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you. He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved. Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document. You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head. His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it. He followed after you silently. Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him. Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today. This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned. To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side. Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand. His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you. Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move. He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice. You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit. The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times. Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room. He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time. Freshly 19 and on top of the world. He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win. He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself. Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care. He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively. He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze.

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board. He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected. Jeonghan moved his knight.

“Checkmate.”

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button. The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces. He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning. He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon. He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn. His timer clicked. No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.

“Checkmate.”

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table. It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion. They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals. If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there. You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent. Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end. He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus. While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win. This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation. He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life. So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.

You beat Minghao again right before lunch. Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise. Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face. The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up. Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner.

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you. Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing. He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you. “A girl at this competition is asinine.”

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.” You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down. The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.” You could punch him, him and his smug face. You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss. You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand. He walked away without taking it. You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?”

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.”

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended. The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits. Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.

“Check.”

The man moved his king one space to the left. This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand. He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet. He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened. He caught sight of your concentrated face. He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.

You won, of course you won.

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you. “Semi finals is this round?”

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table. Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders. He was smiling.

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.

“We’re paired for the semi finals”

“I am aware,” you smirked. Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on”

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table. He was trying, and failing, to keep cool. On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand. The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener. Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe. He had no idea how to handle this. You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out. He might know your game well, but you knew him. He was absolutely out of his depth.

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table. People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him. That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily. He settles for capturing your first bishop. You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it. You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you. The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you. After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly. The crowd was silent as you watched him go. Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team. No one knew what to say. You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs. “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.

“What if I lose?”

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs. You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing. Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo. Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat. The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously. It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away. The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan. He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case. However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew. He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use. If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak,

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled. “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.”

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.” You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began. Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started. He was smiling widely. The officials prevented you from leaving your table. They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.

“Smile,” he mouthed to you. Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters. Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window. He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.

“You came,” you called to him as you approached. His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.

“Finally, you see it!”

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you. He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.

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artzeei · 1 year ago

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RESULTS ARE IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There are those who are in team Unbreakable Bond:

...and those who's courage i respect

special mention goes to this one:

and a complimentary doodle!

reblog for a larger sample size!

#sonic #polls #this one's been funny #the comments and tags were both sweet and hilarious #the people lying on the ground are all fine #they just got homing attack'd #thank you to everyone who voted and reblogged!#sonic the hedgehog #artzeeart #my art #unbreakable bond #& knuckles #also sonic is giving a thumbs up he is NOT flipping people off #shout out to l4byr1nthz1 for inspiring this poll #and very-uncorrect for making a meme from it

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filiazpink · 2 months ago

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🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)

summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.

a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞

word count: 1139

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

read part 2 here: 💞💞

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orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.

your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.

you were simply breathtaking.

…

“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.

“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.

“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”

“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.

it was elita’s superior.

it was you.

oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,

oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.

STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.

orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.

“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.

“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.

“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling.

“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.

“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”

“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme.

orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot whenever he tried speaking to you during past visits.

or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating cogless bots.

d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did you assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell you that-

“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.

“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.

‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.

“,,, i need you.”

,,,

WHAT???

the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all bots in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.

“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt.

orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

he wished it could have been him.

but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.”

the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.

“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.

“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.

,,,

“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow.

orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

“d?,,,” oh he knew.

he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.

oh primus.

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🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

#orion pax x reader #d 16 x reader #transformers one x reader #transformers x reader #fluff #transformers one #transformers one fanfiction #optimus prime x reader #megatron x reader #writeblr #writing #writing requests open #orion pax #d 16 #darkwing #elita one #maccadams

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 17

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Suicide character.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Historic Victory! Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Elected with Record-Breaking Votes."

You stood among the crowd in awe, feeling the gravity of the moment as Bucky stepped up first to take his oath. His right hand rested on the Bible, and his voice was steady, resonating across the packed hall and through the media broadcasted nationwide.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

He glanced at you briefly, pride mingling with disbelief in his eyes as he finished, “I pledge to faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter, so help me God.”

It was almost surreal, watching Bucky stand here, on the cusp of history. You could hardly believe it. He had done it; he was now the Vice President of the United States.

Then came Steve’s turn. He took his oath with an unwavering focus, his voice rich with conviction:

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As Steve finished his oath, the crowd erupted into applause. He stepped forward, eyes fierce with resolve, and gave his inaugural speech. "Today, we embark on a new journey,” he began, his words confident and calculated. “I promise to carve out every rotten part to make this country stronger and more flourishing than ever.” The crowd cheered wildly, the energy of the historic day surging through the masses.

Standing close to Bucky, you leaned toward him and whispered, “I hate him.”

He gave a small, amused smirk, clearing his throat as he pulled you closer, his arm draping protectively over your shoulder. “Stay calm, dear,” he whispered back. “We don’t want your bitter expression captured for posterity.” He pressed his hand gently against your back as you both moved through the crowd.

Across the room, Peggy watched the two of you, noting the way Bucky’s hand never left yours, even when he greeted others. The warmth and easy familiarity between you were evident to all. Peggy, however, stood isolated beside Steve, even as every camera focused on them as the new First Couple. She was now the First Lady, yet she felt utterly invisible.

Because in Steve's eyes, he only looked for Hazel. She remembered the disappointment on his face when he learned that the woman and the little boy were not joining him for the inauguration.

Then Caroline Barnes and her husband Julius approached her, their expressions triumphant. Caroline, with a rare, large smile, was the first to speak. “Congratulations, Peggy,” she said, her tone sweet yet cold.

She’d been Peggy’s confidante for years—long before the politics, the campaigns, and all the layers of public life that followed. They shared memories that went back to the days when they were just two young women navigating life and love, laughing over coffee and late-night conversations.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline’s rare smile as she looked at you next, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. The silent message was clear: you had fulfilled your promise, standing beside her son as the Vice President’s wife.

Bucky, noticing her cold glare toward you, leaned in and murmured, “Seems like you’ve won her over.”

Just then, Natasha, a familiar figure in her sleek Secret Service uniform, approached you both. Her tone was clipped and professional. “The President would like to see you,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

You felt Bucky tense slightly beside you. As you moved to follow Natasha, Bucky instinctively stepped forward too.

“Alone,” Natasha added, her gaze shifting to Bucky.

You exchanged a confused look with him, both of you uncertain as to why you were being called without him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. With one last glance, you followed Natasha toward the Oval Office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Oval Office was imposing, vast and elegant. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room, yet the weight of history and power was palpable in every corner. The walls were lined with portraits of past leaders, and every polished surface seemed to reflect Steve’s ascendant status. He stood before the massive, iconic desk, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of unyielding authority. In this space, he looked like a man who could command nations—a conqueror with the world at his feet.

As you entered, Steve turned, offering you a polished smile that held no warmth. “I imagine you’re wondering why I wanted you here alone,” he said, voice smooth yet laced with an edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Your thoughts were racing. Being in this room with him—Steve Rogers, the man who had climbed to the highest seat of power while leaving a wake of destruction in his path—felt surreal. You could feel the walls closing in, every inch of the Oval Office amplifying the cold reality of his ambition.

Steve raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of playful scorn. "Not once did you congratulate me." He let the silence hang, watching you. "I know why. You blame me for your friend’s death.”

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as his accusation hit you. “So you admit it?” you shot back, unable to mask the tremor of anger in your voice.

He scoffed, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Admit it? That man almost sabotaged the campaign. He betrayed you, and when he paid the price, I’m the one you despise? Most people would thank me.”

The words stung, each syllable a twist of the knife. He continued, almost mockingly, his voice lowering as he leaned slightly forward. “Are you sure you’re up for this fight?” His gaze sharpened, piercing. “Find a better reason to hate me.”

Every word he spoke grated against you, each line deliberately crafted to sting. But you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression steady, refusing to let him see the turmoil swirling inside.

He shook his head, dismissing your anger with a faint chuckle, then leaned back against the desk. “What’s your plan, then? After you bring me down—let’s say you even succeed—what’s next? Do you want Nate to grow up with a criminal for a father?”

Your mind raced, the walls of the Oval Office seeming to close in even further as his words lingered in the air. Steve's gaze was fixed on you, measuring, calculating your silence. And then, as if sensing your hesitation, he gave a triumphant smile, his voice like velvet but colder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

He turned his back, leaving you standing there, stunned. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four Months Later

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the TV as Steve’s face filled the screen. Every channel was the same, broadcasting praise for him, with pundits and newscasters barely containing their admiration. It was unsettling. The media, usually fierce in their critiques, seemed almost reverent. You clenched your jaw, your annoyance simmering under the polished surface of his televised speeches and the careful flattery of his supporters.

From behind you, Bucky spoke up, his tone casual yet knowing. “That’s why people like him,” he said, coming closer. “He never once said he’d make this country fair or just. But he’s proving himself, little by little.”

You looked up, catching his serious expression. He continued, “Steve knew that every leader who vows fairness and justice ends up being despised as soon as they’re in power. They turn into exactly what they swore they’d destroy.”

You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “So… can we abdicate him?”

Bucky laughed softly. “Abdicate Steve?” He smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Honey, that’s a little extreme, even for you.”

“Steve’s ascension was legitimate. He fits the role, and from what the surveys say, voter turnout was historic.” He paused, meeting your gaze with a measured seriousness. “Overthrowing him would shatter public trust—not just in him, but in the entire government.”

“Would it, though?” you asked, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sighed, crossing over to sit beside you. He rested his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t focus on Steve alone—consider what my position means now too. I’m still seen as ‘the new kid,’ the one who made it here because of him. Plenty of people are watching, eager to see me stumble.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination there, but also the caution. Bucky knew the stakes, perhaps even more than you. You could feel the weight he carried, the delicate balancing act of supporting Steve while laying the groundwork for his own ambitions.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his voice low and resolute. “People may believe in me, but if we move too fast, we’ll lose them. And I won’t let that happen. I know you believe I could make a good president—and I plan to get there. But…” He paused, looking into your eyes, “we have to be patient.”

You remembered the priest’s words: ‘Believe in God’s timing.’ Patience, the one thing you struggled with most in a situation like this. But you trusted Bucky. You could feel his strength, his restraint, his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Bucky’s gaze softened, but his words were firm. “To succeed, I have to publicly support Steve, at least for now. In politics, loyalty and trust are everything. We need them on our side.”

As you processed his words, a chilling realization sank in. Steve’s mocking question echoed in your mind: “Are you sure you’re a match for me?” He was right—his plans were meticulous, every move calculated for safety. And Bucky was right too. This was a game of patience, timing, and subtlety.

But the question remained: Who would be powerful enough to finally bring Steve down?

🌸🌸🌸🌸

At the White House, Peggy approached the front entrance, only to be stopped by two Secret Service agents, their expressions impassive.

“I'm here to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, though a tremor betrayed her unease.

One of the agents cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You don’t have clearance to enter.”

She blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Excuse me? This is my husband's residence. I have every right to be here.”

The agent’s face remained unreadable. “I understand, but orders are orders. Mr. Rogers specified… no access.”

Humiliated, Peggy took a step back, heat rising to her cheeks as a cold realization struck her: Steve was truly keeping his word. She was being kept out of his life, and now, out of his home. She turned, bitterness flooding her chest, and started down the steps, fighting to keep her composure.

As she walked toward her car, laughter drifted from the garden. Curiosity sparked, and she moved toward a nearby window, peeking inside. There, in the garden, was Steve, laughing as he played with Nate, while Hazel sat on a bench, watching them, her smile soft and warm.

The scene twisted like a knife in Peggy’s heart. They look like a family.

She clenched her fists, forcing down a surge of fury and grief. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked the guard at her side, “How often do they come here?”

“Every weekend, ma’am,” the guard replied softly.

Her voice cracked as she stammered, “D-Do they… stay the night?”

The guard’s silence was enough, but he finally nodded, “Yes.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. She stays here? She sleeps in the White House? Peggy had never once been allowed to spend the night here, but Hazel—Hazel could? The injustice stung in a way that words couldn’t capture.

On her drive back, the scenes replayed over and over, thoughts like poison seeping into her mind. She remembered a press conference where Steve had passionately pledged to support local manufacturing, calling out Hazel as a shining example.

“Like one designer, Hazel Barnes,” he had said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “She’s the kind of woman who understands her privilege and uses it to lift others up. Her business is 100% local, supporting homegrown talent. If we had more people like her, this country would thrive.”

The memory burned, the admiration in his tone a raw wound. Not once had he praised her. Not when he was in the military, not when he became governor, not when he ran for Senate, and certainly not now, when he was president. Hazel was now his example, his ideal, the woman he chose to highlight.

By the time she finally reached home, it was close to midnight. She entered the house in a daze, weary from her own broken heart. Yet despite the pain, she clung to her duties, driven to exhaustion by a schedule that seemed never-ending. As she set her bag down, her assistant approached her, offering a warm, sympathetic smile.

“The twins had a good day today,” her assistant said softly. “They finished their study sessions and met with the psychiatrist. They’re making great progress."

Peggy’s tired eyes softened at the news. “Thank you. That’s… that’s wonderful.” She gave a slight nod, the smallest glimmer of peace settling in her chest.

Quietly, she made her way to the twins’ room and opened the door to find them still awake, caught in the glow of a handheld game console.

“Hi, Mom,” one of them greeted her, quickly hiding the console behind his back. Both boys looked at her with guilty smiles, expecting a reprimand.

But instead of scolding them, she stepped forward, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads before wrapping her arms around them in a rare, tender hug.

“Mom?” they asked, voices laced with concern as they took in her weary expression.

She managed a small, tired smile. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

One of the boys squeezed her hand. “Take a hot bath, Mom. We’ll make you some milk with honey.”

The gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you, boys,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you so much.”

They left, shooting her worried looks over their shoulders as they went downstairs to prepare her drink. Peggy moved into her room, slipping off her heels and sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup with slow, methodical movements, as though going through the motions might somehow soothe her mind.

A knock came at her door, and she turned to see the twins standing there with a warm mug in hand, faces bright with concern. She mustered a smile, taking the milk from them. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”

The twins lingered, watching her carefully, but after a moment, they seemed reassured. She looked the same as always—tired, maybe a little worn—but still their mother. With quiet “goodnights,” they slipped away to their room, leaving her alone in the silence of her own thoughts.

Peggy finished the drink, placing the empty mug down with trembling hands. She reached into her desk drawer, fingers brushing over an object she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled it out slowly, staring down at it for a long, heavy moment before standing and making her way to the bathroom.

She undressed and stepped into the hot bath, letting the warmth soak her weary body. But as the heat wrapped around her, it couldn’t reach the coldness embedded in her heart. She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything she had once hoped for Steve, all the faith she'd placed in him.

He was supposed to be different. She’d thought that becoming president would have brought out wisdom and fairness in him, but instead, he clung to his principles, more ruthless than ever. Memories of the admiration in his voice when he praised Hazel flooded her thoughts, a contrast so sharp it was almost cruel. Steve had never looked at her that way, never spoken her name with that warmth, that pride.

For a moment, her mind drifted to Bucky and you, the loyalty he had shown you, unwavering, year after year. In the past five years, through everything, he had remained faithful, and you had accepted him fully, supporting him in ways Peggy could hardly fathom. She had never known that kind of love with Steve.

She looked down at her wrist, fingers tightening around the object from her desk. Her phone lay beside her, and she typed a short message before putting it aside. She traced the edge of the object against her wrist, whispering, “I’ll set you free.” Her voice was barely audible, fragile against the silence.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

At 2 a.m., Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He sat up, irritation flashing in his eyes, ready to reprimand whoever had dared disturb him. But then he saw Natasha standing there, her face pale, eyes wide with urgency.

“Mr. President… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice tight, “but this is very urgent.”

A chill crept through him as her words seemed to hang in the air. He got out of bed and followed her, feeling as though he was moving through a thick fog.

Moments later, Steve found himself staring down at Peggy in the bathtub, her body pale and lifeless, the water around her a deep, dark red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside her, reaching for her, his arms wrapping around her as if he could somehow bring her back.

“Peggy…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He tightened his hold on her, feeling the unbearable weight of the silence that filled the room.

The twins, William and Charles, stood just outside, tears streaming down their faces, unable to fully grasp the scene before them. They looked at their mother, broken and cold, the life drained from her, and their father, on his knees, clutching her like a lifeline.

Natasha cleared her throat, eyes averted as she whispered, “Mr. President… we should make an announcement.”

Steve’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The firmness in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Tell the public that the First Lady has collapsed from exhaustion,” Steve said coldly. “She was tireless, supporting me without a moment’s rest. Now… she’s taking time to recover.”

The twins’ eyes widened, shock and betrayal mingling with their grief.

“Dad?!” William’s voice cracked, staring at his father in disbelief.

“It would be disastrous for this country to know that the First Lady took her own life,” Steve continued, his tone as unyielding as steel. “It would tarnish her memory. She’d be seen as unstable, weak. This is for her legacy, for the image she worked so hard to uphold.”

The twins shook their heads, voices choked with pain. “No. Mother isn’t like that. She’s not some unstable woman.”

Steve knelt beside them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice soft but unyielding. “Boys, trust me. This is for the best. We want people to remember your mother’s dedication, her strength. Not… this.”

He pulled them into an embrace, eyes glistening as he held them close, as if his grip alone could silence their pain. Over their shoulders, his gaze drifted back to Peggy’s lifeless form, his expression unreadable. For a split second, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he thought, Her sacrifice won’t be forgotten.

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justcallmecappy · 2 years ago

Text

Help me write a Fenders fic (pt. 5)

[ Read part 1 here | Read part 2 here | Read part 3 here | Read part 4 here ]

Turning to Fenris again, Anders says quietly, "Thank you. Maker knows why you did all that, but ... thank you."

For a moment, Fenris doesn't say anything in response. His gaze is distant as he says, "You ... are welcome," in a hesitant voice, as if he is still not used to being thanked. It could have been a trick of the firelight, but Anders imagines he sees a rosy pinkness dust the tops of Fenris' cheeks and tint the tips of his ears.

"That man," Fenris says, brows knitting together. "He seemed to recognize you — he knew that you're a mage. He called you ... Sparklefingers?"

A sharp laugh escapes Anders' throat and he grins sardonically to himself. "Oh, yes, well ... I used to work at The Pearl, a popular brothel back in Denerim. He must have been one of my old clients." He sighs and shakes his head. "Guess I left a bigger impression than I thought."

"I'm glad that you —" Fenris swallows, then pauses. "It's good that you don't have to do that sort of work anymore." The blush in the tips of his ears seems to grow even redder.

Anders, too, can feel warmth rise uncharacteristically to his face. He doesn't know why he suddenly feels so very shy — but when he remembers how Fenris stepped in so gallantly between him and that nobleman, and how Fenris seized his hand and led him to safety, Anders feels his stomach flutter and his heart do somersaults in his chest.

'You can't have him. Not if I hire him first.'

The accursed fluttering in his chest grows as furiously and ardently as the damned blush on his cheeks, and Anders can feel himself about to say something really, really stupid.

Thank you to everyone who voted, reblogged, and commented! 🥰

#help me write a fenders fic #fenders #fanfiction #my writing #my fanfic #thank you so much to everyone who voted commented and reblogged! <3

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

ok fox it is then!!

@v-anrouge @hheun bc i love you guys maybe ill make him a pink bunny onesie too lmao

ive received several really nice suggestions as well so i might make them if i have the time hehehe

im planning on making jade a teal onesie but im debating which animal to make it sooo

keep in mind he will be smol so it's nothing detailed!!

this is the fabric ill be using in case it changes your mind

#thanks for voting everyone!!#to that sheep comment i curse(?) you bc now i want to make a sheep onesie #but i only have yarn so ill have to crochet it #and according to my crafts master (my mom) its really difficult 🥹#ill try my best aiii #✧reblogs✦

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cherrypikkins · 9 months ago

Text

Thank you everyone who participated in the fe3h portrait request this year, whether by making requests, liking, reblogging or leaving nice comments :3

Here is the full compilation of all the works I managed to finish! For certain characters I went back and did some very minor touch-ups, just so they look a bit more consistent. That said, you can see how my style changed quite over time :3;;; Which is fine! I wanted to experiment with the soft texture brushes and try to come up with a style that would look crisp when zoomed out, but also look interesting close up. I hope I managed to achieve that, and that it looks good!!

Don't forget to vote for the final character portrait here!

Hope I can get a chance to do this again one day, it was super fun!!! And, I hope you guys had fun too~

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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