#when i say this is EVERYTHING to me i GENUINELY MEAN IT

[hanniescookie]

is it that hard? - jww

pairing - wonwoo x f! reader

genre - fluff, idol au

warnings - none

summary - you know wonwoo likes you, but for some reason, he doesn't say it. not until you're frustrated enough to play a game on him.

author's note - kekekeke @wonkierideul // this is for you my mochi cheek-ed baby!! i hope you like it 😭 i tried, okay? i just hope it makes you smile at least, you're so dear to me my oomf (pls remind me again what it means) may you fulfill your MUA dream one day and may you get to doll wonu up 🤍 love you sm :)

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Being a successful makeup artist had been your dream since you were a teenager. Your love for makeup only grew with your age, and you made yourself proud after finally landing your dream job.

Being Jeon Wonwoo's makeup artist, however, was certainly not your dream. It might be a privilege, never been a dream.

It isn't that you mind seeing his beautiful face every other day while you doll it up with makeup that suits his outfit of the day. Never that. It's just that you're always too distracted to focus on your job. And Wonwoo doesn't help.

It falls out of your realm of professionalism. You've never been someone who struggles with balancing your personal and professional life, but with this man? You're terrible. Miserable.

He is too good looking for his own good, and being so close to his face half the time serves you no good. It takes everything in you to not just kiss his lips everytime you swipe some lipstick across them.

Wonwoo is not very expressive — that's a known fact. But what people might not know is that Wonwoo is a tease, a little close to a flirt. At least towards you, he is.

You hate how he licks his lips right after you're done applying lipstick just to make your job harder. What's worse is that he does it with a straight face, muttering an aplogy within a second like he didn't realize what he just did.

But you have seen it far too much to know that he does these things deliberately. You don't know if he likes seeing the huff of annoyance you let out, or if he just genuinely hates you.

Either way, you've decided that your work ethics have been compromised enough. You don't like these feelings you've harbored for the idol overtime, and if nothing is down the drain, you'll take your shot today.

When Wonwoo arrives on set an hour before his schedule, you're glad that the whole group isn't here. It's his solo schedule for the day — a photoshoot for his brand deal.

The look for today has to be a little bold, and requires more time than usual. So you start slow, focused on work and trying your best to make him look exactly like the concept demands.

And you're also focused on another task today.

"I'm quitting." You say as nonchalantly as you can, dabbing some concealer to hide a tiny acne mark on his skin.

"Huh?" He raises his brows, unsure if you talked to him.

You meet his eyes for a few seconds before focusing back on his cheek, watching the acne mark slowly disappear. You hope your game plan can work, and if it doesn't, then you're really never seeing this place again. "I said I'm quitting this job."

He continues to look at your face while you turn back to the vanity, fumbling through some eyeshadow palettes. Your heart is throbbing at the weight of his gaze, but you keep going. "I'm telling you because I know you don't get used to changes easily. You'll be more prepared when you see another MUA starting tomorrow."

You turn back, meeting his surprised gaze and you smile a little. "Close your eyes."

He takes a little while to process what you said, and you gladly wait till he does. You can see the effect of your game, and you like it so far.

He closes his eyes slowly, exhaling through his nose. It's quiet for a while till you play with a combination of two dark shades on his eyelids.

"Must you leave?"

You almost don't catch it with how quietly he speaks. Keeping the palette away, you stare at his face with his eyes closed, his question echoing in your head. Your heart swells, and a smile forms on your face. "Did you say something?"

He mutters a quiet no without opening his eyes. You know he's doing it because you haven't asked him to open them yet, and involuntarily, you feel a flutter in your chest. Usually, he would open them before you're even done, but right now he's trying to not upset you. How cute.

"I heard you, though." You say again, leaning against the vanity with your arms folded. He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with eyes full of uncertainty. "Do you have an answer then?"

"Must I leave?" You echo his question, humming thoughtfully. "Good question. The problem is—" you pause, grabbing an eyepencil and leaning down on him. He instinctively closes his eyes, and you smile. "—that my professionalism is threatened here. I can't properly focus on my work with you, Wonwoo."

His eyes snap open before you're even done lining the pencil on his eyelid, earning a sharp wince from you. "See! This is what I mean."

"Sorry," he breathes. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you say, folding your arms neatly once again. "You tell me."

He stares at you blankly for a while, unable to pinpoint exactly where you're coming from. Then his expression shifts, as if he's reminded of something. "Scratch that. Just don't quit?"

You arch an eyebrow despite the little victory dance your insides do at his statement. "Hm? Why?"

"Because—" he pauses, trying to find words. "Because like you said, I'm not good with accepting changes. I am used to you."

You sigh, shaking your head. "Is it that hard?"

"What?"

"Saying the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you like me."

Suddenly, there's pin drop silence in the makeup room. Even the humming of the aircon feels distant, as if coming from a faraway land. All you can hear is your own pulse beating wildly in your ears.

Then with calculated certainty, Wonwoo speaks. "It is."

You feel your throat running dry, and though you know you orchestrated this little game, you have no idea why you're nervous. Do you like him that much?

"But if I say it Y/N, will you stay?"

You can't help but smile. He's cute, and you'll do anything to make him happy. You nod. "I will."

He inhales a mouthful of air, and deeply exhales it all. Licking his dry lips, he looks up in your eyes, taking your hand in his large one hesitantly.

"I like you." He says, as quiet as the room. "I've liked you since the day you first put an insane amount of blush on my cheeks and I complained about looking cute. Please don't quit on me."

You've known that Wonwoo likes you, but nothing could've prepared you for the way he admits it in his low voice while holding your hand gently. You feel your pulse quickening even more if it's possible, and a blush dusts your cheeks.

"You did look cute, though."

"I didn't want to!" He groans, and you end up giggling. He sighs then, smiling along with you nevertheless. "Is that what you say to my confession?"

You shrug, grabbing a lipstick and turning to him. "If you don't mess your lipstick up this time, I'll think about going on a date with you."

He smiles, fingers hooking in yours to tug you closer. You lean closer to him as a result, eyes widening slightly. "Whatever happened to professionalism now?"

"I can compromise a little if I get a boyfriend as handsome as Jeon Wonwoo." You answer, poking his forehead so his head rests back before you begin applying lipstick on his lips.

He does mess his lipstick after your first attempt, and it leads to you kissing him, but you go on a date with him on the weekend anyway.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 13

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando knew this was going to be a mess, but at this point, he had no choice. He’d been bullied into this.

He slouched in his chair, arms crossed, waiting for the right moment to speak up. Zak Brown was reviewing sponsorship commitments, Andrea Stella was making notes on the schedule, and Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, was rattling off media obligations. Across the table, Oscar was watching him, barely holding back a smirk.

Lando cleared his throat. “By the way, I’m bringing my girlfriend to Silverstone.”

The room went silent. Heads turned, eyebrows raised, and even Zak looked up from his paperwork. And then there was Oscar, unable to bite back his smirk any longer.

Sophie was the first to regain composure. “Girlfriend?” she repeated, clearly caught off guard.

"Yeah," Lando affirmed, trying to sound casual, but the tension in the room was palpable. "I've been seeing someone for a while. And she's coming to Silverstone."

There was a pause, an awkward beat of silence.

Zak narrowed his eyes. “And when exactly were you planning on telling us this?”

Lando shrugged. “Now?”

Sophie sighed, already dreading the impending PR nightmare. "Alright," she said, pushing up her glasses and steeling herself. "Who is this mystery girlfriend?"

“Elizabeth Treshton,” Lando said casually.

The room exploded.

Sophie looked like she was malfunctioning. “Wait—Elizabeth Treshton? As in—”

Zak leaned forward, looking genuinely shocked. “The Elizabeth Treshton?”

Andrea, who usually stayed calm, looked almost rattled. “The author?”

“Yes, the author,” Lando confirmed, rolling his eyes. “Why is everyone acting like I just said I’m dating the Queen of England?”

Sophie groaned, already rubbing her temples. “Lando, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

Zak was still shaking his head, somewhere between impressed and exasperated. “You’ve been secretly dating a bestselling fantasy author and didn’t think to mention it?”

Sophie looked like she had a migraine. "Lando, you’ve just added a whole new layer to your public image. And you have no idea what kind of circus the media will make out of this.”

Andrea sighed. “Lando. You realize that this means—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando cut in, waving a hand. “Social media chaos, headlines, fans losing their minds. Trust me, I know.”

Not like he hadn’t thought about it…constantly.  

Sophie, now frantically typing away on her laptop, let out a sharp exhale. “You do understand her fanbase is massive, right? You’re dating one of the most popular fantasy authors in the world. This isn’t just a random reveal. This is—this is—”

“Huge,” Oscar supplied helpfully, still looking thoroguhly amused. 

Lando nodded, feigning nonchalance. "I’ve seen the numbers. I know she’s a big deal. But you’re acting like it’s a bad thing."

Zak raised an eyebrow. "It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it makes things… complicated."

Andrea nodded in agreement. "Treshton’s fan base is extremely passionate. They’ll be watching your every move. And given her genre of books, well… let’s just say they have… very active imaginations.”

Lando couldn’t help an amused smirk. "You mean they’ll write fanfiction about us?"

Sophie looked more pained at the mention of fanfiction. "They’ll do so much more than that, Lando. Interviews, gossip sites, fan theories—the media will have a field day with this. Her privacy is going to be nonexistent, and so is yours."

Lando shrugged, trying to look unperturbed. "I can deal with the press. I’ve been doing it for years. And honestly, her fans can’t be any worse than some of the crazies online."

Andrea sighed again, muttering something in Italian under his breath before looking at Sophie. “How do we handle this?”

Sophie, now looking more exhausted than ever, replied, "We handle this very carefully. We’ll need a statement, some approved talking points, and a ton of media training. This has the potential to be a PR nightmare if we don’t get out ahead of it."

Lando let out a long sigh, regretting his decision to mention anything. "Great, just great."

"And we'll need to meet her," Sophie continued. "And probably her team."

Zak leaned back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s managed to tame our Lando."

Lando rolled his eyes. "I’m not tamed," he muttered, ignoring the smirks from his teammates.

"Sure, you’re not," Oscar said, clearly amused. "You are just reading romantasy books and getting her dog Ferrari bandanas."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Zak said drily. "Lando...why?"

Lando groaned, slumping back in his chair. "Don’t start with that."

Zak smirked, all too pleased with the subject. "I’m just curious. Lando Norris,  McLaren race car driver, getting a dog a Ferrari bandana. Also, I am going to put my foot down and say that we are not having the dog in the garage in a ferrari bandana."

Lando huffed, but there was a reluctant smirk on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, it’s a PR nightmare. But the dog is innocent. Lizzie has been a Ferrari fan since childhood. The dog is literally named Maranello."

Zak’s eyes widened, and he looked to the rest of the room. "You’re kidding."

Sophie just shook her head in disbelief, while Andrea let out a low whistle. "Damn, she’s really committed to being a Ferrari fan, isn’t she?"

Lando just ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Yes, I know. I’ve made my peace with it."

***

Lizzie had been in her fair share of nerve-wracking meetings—editorial reviews, publisher strategy calls, even a few intense negotiations about movie rights—but nothing quite prepared her for sitting in McLaren’s conference room, facing Zak Brown, Andrea Stella, and the entire PR team.

She sat up straight, hands folded in her lap as she tried not to let her nerves show. It wasn’t every day that she was the center of attention for an entire Formula One team.

Zak Brown looked directly at her. “Ms. Treshton—”

“Lizzie, please.” She interrupted, cringing internally at just how nervous she sounded.

Zak folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “So, Lizzie. First of all—welcome. I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise.”

Yeah, it was. Not just for them. If someboy woul have told LIzzie a year ago that she was going to sit in a team meeting in the MTC and discuss her romantic relationship with Lando Norris, she would have started laughing hysterically. 

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she settled on saying. 

Lando squeezed her hand under the table. 

Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, sighed, already scribbling notes. “Okay, let’s get to the important stuff. You’re a bestselling author with a massive online following. Lando is one of the most popular drivers on the grid. When this relationship goes public, it’s not going to be small.”

Lizzie nodded, trying to keep her face neutral. She knew all too well the scrutiny that came with being a public figure. But hearing McLaren spell it out, in the context of Lando’s world, was still a bit jarring. “I’m aware of the attention it will bring,” she agreed. 

Zak nodded. “We need to prepare a few talking points, a plan for the media, and figure out how to approach this. Given your...passionate fanbase, we’re expecting some fallout.”

She took a deep breath, trying to sound assured. “I understand. I’ve been in the public eye for a while, so I have some idea of what to expect. But I’ll do my best to handle it.”

Zak nodded, glancing at Lizzie. “Which brings me to my next question. Are you prepared for that?”

Lizzie met his gaze evenly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

There was a moment of silence as the team digested her answer. She could almost see their surprise.

Sophie, ever the media manager, pressed on. “Publicity can be ruthless. The media will dig into your past, speculate on your relationship, and try to find any angle they can to sensationalize the story. You’ll have cameras and microphones in your face, people demanding interviews, autograph requests. Are you ready for that?”

Lizzie considered the question for a moment. Ready? Probably not. But was she willing to face it?

“I’ve dealt with the press before. I know how to handle myself in front of cameras and microphones.” It was at least partially true.

Andrea, who had been silently watching her this whole time, finally spoke. “You have a service dog. Lando mentioned that you have epilepsy.” His tone wasn’t unkind—just careful. “Do you have any concerns about attending a race weekend?”

Lando stiffened slightly beside her, but Lizzie appreciated the directness.

“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “It’s a high-stimulation environment—loud, crowded, unpredictable. But I’ve managed fine at other big events before, and I wouldn’t put myself in a situation I couldn’t handle.”

She glanced down, where Mara lay calmly at her feet. “Mara will be with me at all times. She’s trained to alert me before a seizure, and I trust her completely.”

There was a long silence as the McLaren team absorbed this new information. Lizzie could see the wheels turning in their heads, weighing the pros and cons and determining how this added new variable would affect their strategy.

Sophie finally broke the silence, her pen still scratching notes across a pad of paper. “This definitely adds another element to consider.”

Zak looked thoughtful. “We’ll need to ensure that Mara has access wherever you go on race weekends. And our medics will need to be briefed on your condition in case of an emergency.”

Lizzie nodded, feeling a wave of relief that they were taking this seriously. “I can provide them with all the necessary medical information beforehand.”

Sophie, however, still looked concerned. “The press is going to latch onto your condition. We need to be prepared for that.”

"It's not a secret," Lizzie said drily.

"Lizzie has been openly talking about her epilepsy online for years," Lando said quickly.

The words hung in the air for a beat. It was true. Lizzie had been open about her epilepsy on social media—but that was to her fans, to people who loved her books and cared about her as an author. This was an entirely different beast.

Sophie frowned slightly, clearly worried. "Yes, but this will bring a whole new level of scrutiny. The media will ask invasive questions, demand to know every detail—"

"I know," Lizzie said calmly. "I'm aware of how relentless the press can be. I'm not naive."

Andrea nodded, his frown slightly softened. "We'll do everything we can to protect your privacy, but—"

"There's only so much you can control," Lizzie finished for him. "I get it. I know what to expect."

Lando on the other hand already looked murderous.

He hadn't said a word, just sitting there in brooding silence. But one look at his expression, at the muscle in his jaw clenching, told Lizzie he did not like this angle of questioning at all.

Zak noticed too. "Lando, you've been unusually quiet."

Lando was bristling now. "What? You think I'm happy that the press is going to exploit her medical condition for headlines?"

Zak raised a placating hand. "No one said that. But it's something we have to consider. We need to be prepared for the questions they'll ask."

Lando's glare could've melted steel. But Lizzie, knowing him too well, gave his hand a subtle squeeze under the table. A nonverbal plea for calm.

It worked. Lando took a deep breath, managing to tone down his scowl to a slightly less homicidal expression.

Zak, noticing Lizzie's silent intervention, gave her a look that clearly said, "Nice one."

"Okay," Zak said, clearing his throat and redirecting the conversation. "There's one more thing we need to discuss."

Lizzie braced herself, wondering what could possibly be left.

"Ferrari. Really?!"

It was the last thing Lizzie expected to hear.

She bit back a laugh, trying not to show her amusement, while Lando groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Here we go," he muttered.

Zak was shaking his head, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement. "I can't believe one of my star drivers is dating a die-hard Ferrari fan."

Lizzie couldn't help herself anymore. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

Sophie, seeing her reaction, rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Andrea, the most composed of the group, raised an eyebrow at Lando. "Did you not think we were going to bring this up?"

"I promise not to wear Ferrari Merch in the McLaren Garage?" Lizzie suggested, trying to stay serious.

Lando snorted, looking both horrified and amused at the thought.

Zak, clearly torn between amusement and protectiveness over his team, ran a hand through his hair. "I'd prefer if you didn't, yeah."

"But no promises about Mara's Bandana. I am not putting a McLaren Bandana on Mara. That would be treason," Lizzie said seriously.

There was a round of disbelieving chuckles from the McLaren team. It seemed like the ice was finally broken.

Sophie bit back a laugh, looking slightly more relaxed. "I can't believe we're discussing your dog's loyalties in a serious strategy meeting."

"This is a very serious topic," Lizzie said dryly, trying to keep a straight face. "Mara is very attached to her Ferrari bandana. I don't think she'd take kindly to switching allegiances."

Lando looked at her aghast. "How have I managed to fall in love with a woman who has a Ferrari dog?"

Zak chuckled. "You just know the press is going to have a field day with this."

[writing-for-marvel]

In Situ

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 8 | Series Masterlist

In Situ - meaning in the natural position (ie. Bucky’s place next to you)

Summary: You ask Bucky to accompany you to the hospital's fundraising gala.

Warnings: strictly 18+, unprotected soft loving sex, creampie, graphic depiction of gunshot wounds & significant bleeding to a major character, a bit of angst as they struggle to reveal their feelings, will we finally get an ‘I love you’??, certain ex-fling of Bucky’s makes an appearance, this part has a bit of everything, fluff, angst, smut all rolled into one; I will apologise in advance you have every right to hate me given the ending of this

Word count: a whopping 10.3k (buckle up)

A/N: this part is dedicated to the wonderful @treatbuckywkisses and @yenzys-lucky-charm, I haven’t updated this series in so long and I genuinely thought no one would care about it being incomplete but you both have left such sweet comments on the other parts that inspired me to continue with my vision for paramedic!bucky, so I hope you both enjoy my darling friends 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

It’s the start of a very long shift when the person you least want to encounter, Dr Thor Odinson, approaches you with a glowering expression which looks like the most accurate embodiment of ‘I would rather be anywhere else’.

You would rather quite literally be in any other room of the hospital than in trauma room 2 right now, but as your direct superior, you have to constantly take direction from the same man who tried to compete with Bucky for your affection, and then blacklisted you at work after you turned him down.

“Before you say no to this, I need you to know this is a requirement of your employment here and you cannot get out of it, no matter how much you might want to.” Thor states with the same amount of joy as if he were inviting you to a funeral. His hands fidget almost unconsciously with a sealed envelope as he speaks, before offering it to you with a firm, outstretched hand. “Believe me, I’ve already tried.”

You consider him for a moment, his eyes not quite meeting your examining gaze and nervously grinding his back teeth. Taking the envelope, you notice your name written in messy, scrawled handwriting on the front.

“Not sure why I wouldn’t want to, whatever you’re inviting me to sounds like the absolute time of my life.” You jest in an effort to diffuse the tension between you. Thor, however, doesn’t seem to find it funny as rather than a chuckle, you elicit the most forced eye roll you’ve seen in a while.

“It’s a fundraising gala, mostly for the research labs associated with the hospital, but part of the proceeds go to supporting patients without healthcare who otherwise would not afford our help.”

Though the thought of contributing to those of the community who are less fortunate, and find themselves in the unfortunately common situation of being in debt to a healthcare system which was designed to further cripple the already vulnerable, the lack of enthusiasm Thor is conveying during the conversation makes you wary of what important information you’re likely missing about the event.

“You’re allowed to bring a plus one.” He adds with a rising inflection, almost as if it’s a question rather than a statement.

Silence falls between you two, and for a moment you fully believe Thor is waiting for you to confirm whether you will be bringing Bucky as your date, which would just make this uncomfortable encounter even more awkward, but thankfully he speaks again before you need to say anything.

“You’ll be representing the ED, and more importantly the hospital, at this event. You and whomever you bring better be on your best behaviour, I don’t want to have to write you up again.” A smirk curves on your face as he walks away. Although there is a finality to his voice in which you know you won’t get out of this work event, Thor has reminded you of the very public display of affection Bucky showed you in the emergency room which had earned you an official warning from hospital HR.

A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning.

* * *

The night of the Gala, Bucky knocks on your front door, feeling rather uncomfortable in this taut suit with the unnatural feeling of the shoulder pads compressing against his already broad shoulders.

He tries adjusting them as he waits, he wants to look his absolute best for you, to rival even a fraction of the radiance he’s sure you will exude tonight. But they feel even more out of place now he’s fiddled with them and regrets the decision until he hears the pattering of your footsteps behind the door.

“You have to close your eyes before you come in.” You call out to him in a playful voice, without opening the door. “I’m not ready yet.”

Bucky’s positive that in any state of undress or stage in the process of getting ready you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world, but a warmth spreads through his chest at the notion you’re wanting to look your best for him.

“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you.

Bucky hears the lock click as it opens and a small giggle, before the light pressure of a pair of lips on his.

“No peeking.” You request as you take his hand and lead him inside. Bucky knows your place like the back of his hand already and doesn’t need his eyes open to know that you take him towards the couch. “I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With each beat of Bucky’s heart his anticipation of seeing you only grows. He’s seen you in every way imaginable, naked and writhing for him, vulnerable with sickness, beaming with pride and joy, and yet every time he sees you he is continually flawed by how stunning you are in every scenario.

“Buck, you can open them.”

Bucky is simply lost for words. Never in all his life has he been in the presence of someone so utterly breathtaking. Looking at you now, practically radiating golden light, a brilliant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and your body looking downright heavenly in a form fitting dress which compliments the colour of your eyes, Bucky believes angels do actually exist.

“You are so beautiful.” He manages to stammer out once he’s picked his jaw up off the floor.

“Not as handsome as you in this suit.” You grip the lapels of his jacket to pull him even closer to you, straightening his tie in an action that overwhelms Bucky with a need to kiss you.

“What, this old thing?” He attempts to brush off your flattery, because next to you, there is positively no way anyone could compete with your beauty.

Bucky gulps the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth as his eyes roam your frame once again, because he can’t help but literally drool over how stunning you look - can’t believe that he gets to be the one who walks into the gala tonight with you on his arm.

The only other time he has felt this utterly floored by someone’s appearance was the first time he laid eyes on you as you strolled across the ER on that now historic day when he could not believe someone in scrubs and a lab coat could look so breathtakingly beautiful.

“You are genuinely the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life.

You kiss him in the breath after he finishes speaking, in that luscious, sensual way that no one else has ever kissed him and evokes a warm, fuzzy, almost life-ruining devotion, dare he say love, in his chest.

“Let’s just stay here tonight.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, his hands finding the zipper on the back of your dress and slowly unzips to let the fabric fall from your décolletage.

He can feel you smile against his lips but then you bruise his heart by pulling away and saying “As much as I would prefer to spend the whole night naked here with you, I’ve already been told I cannot miss this event.”

However, they aren’t words which scare Bucky away from a challenge, he dives back into the kiss, the tip of his tongue tangling with yours. He thinks he has you convinced when your hands start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck - you know how much he likes it and do it constantly to turn him on, but then you pull back and Bucky sighs.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Only when it comes to you.” He responds with a chuckle. You’re the only woman who’s ever had him whipped before, and Bucky’s not sure you realise how powerful the hold you have over him is.

“I promise, all we have to do is last an hour at this thing, and then you can take me home and have your way with me.”

* * *

You walk into the Gala, which is already packed with hospital staff dressed to the nines, hand in hand with Bucky who, in your opinion, looks magnitudes more handsome than any of the other men all dressed in black suits.

You turn to him and he’s already looking at you with that sparkle in his eye, like you’re absolutely perfect, just as you are, and there is nothing about you he would ever dream of changing.

“What?” You ask when those twinkling eyes don’t look away, but instead study your features as if there’s words left unsaid on the tip of his tongue.

“Just imagining pulling you into one of the on-call rooms, tearing this dress off you and tasting every inch of you.” Bucky shifts his hand to rest on the small of your back, his breath warm against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, we have done some of our best work in there.” Bucky hums in agreement, both of you taking a second to remember the first of many visits to the on-call room which left you with shaking legs, but was also the first time either of you acknowledged that your feelings were deeper than simply hooking up. “I think you need to grab us both a drink to quench that thirst of yours, James.”

You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar.

While Bucky is busy with that task, you instead make your way over to the other side of the atrium to take a look at the items available for the hospital's silent auction. You have to chuckle to yourself looking at the prices listed on the bidding sheets - as if anyone with medical school debt could afford to pay for even one of the allusive holidays or artefacts they had obtained for the fundraiser.

But you suppose your job tonight isn’t to bid on the items themselves, but to shmooze the wealthy guests in attendance into bidding with their spare millions.

Searching out one of the items at the lower end of asking prices, you decide to put an almost embarrassing low bid on an all expenses paid weekend to Mexico, that you know someone will outbid you on, just to say you participated in the night without needing to lie through your teeth.

You stroll through the busy hall, keeping your eyes peeled for Bucky near the bar but it seems you’ve lost him in the packed crowd. It’s usually fairly easy to spot your tall, broad boyfriend, and your heart sinks a little that you’re forced to walk aimlessly around the event as everyone else is wrapped in conversation.

“Doctor, lovely to run into you like this.” You hear a voice you’ve heard before but cannot place from behind you. And though you can’t actually see their face, the tone of their voice contradicts their words - they don’t seem pleased to see you at all.

Turning around, a face that evokes prickly apprehension in your chest comes into view. She’s hauntingly beautiful, the type of beauty which artists spend hours trying to commit to canvas and which is just not attainable for regular people like yourself. She holds herself like she’s closing out a Victoria Secret fashion show and is fully aware of the enchanting effect she has on any man who sets eyes upon her.

“Jacqui… I didn’t know pharmacy staff were invited to this thing.” Even with her disagreeable inflection, you do your best to sound pleasant.

“Oh well you are when you’re heading up the department.” She boasts, with a little wobble of her head which you mostly think is to draw attention to her shiny, voluminous blonde hair.

So is she just here to rub her new job title in your face?

“Congratulations, I didn’t know you got promoted.” You try to sound genuine even though you really couldn’t give a shit.

“I saw you walk in with Barnes. Where did he scamper off to?” You are now actually very glad to not have found Bucky in the crowd earlier. Something about the way she is trying to control the curiosity in her voice, and that she was actively watching the two of you together, makes you cautious of her intentions.

“Not sure, I was just looking for him.”

There’s a long pause where both of you refuse to be the next one to speak. You just want this conversation to be over. But you aren’t that lucky.

“How long have you two been together now?” The inquiry is almost punctuated with sharp spite, and though you don’t want to indulge her line of questioning, there’s a voice in the back of your head that’s telling you you need to defend your Bucky from whatever that time is implying.

“A couple months.” Is the defensive response you retort - it’s technically correct, though you’ve only been official for a month of that.

“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk.

Where the fuck was this coming from?

“I trust him implicitly.” You attempt to control the absolute bewildered facial expression that’s trying it’s very best to overtake your features.

“Oh you poor, naive thing.” She says with a tone you use when delivering bad news to patients' families. “Men don’t change, they just hide their true nature from you. Wait a few months, he’ll be back to his fuckboy ways, guys like him can’t resist cheating. I guarantee it.”

Most men are like that, at least in your experience. But Bucky has never given you any cause to believe he would treat you like that. Just because he had a reputation of casually sleeping around before meeting you, doesn’t mean once he’s in a relationship he’ll be unfaithful.

You can’t imagine the sweet man who walked into your place tonight with his eyes closed, waiting for your consent to see you fully dolled up in your gown and then proceed to call you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, would ever cheat on you.

“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her.

The look in her eyes appears like you’ve challenged her, but you don’t want to think about the connotations of that right now. Without saying goodbye, you turn on your heel, needing to get as far away from her as quickly as possible.

Rippling anxiety bubbles in your chest that in your experience only Bucky’s touch can soothe. You frantically search for him in the sea of black suits, trying to also keep half an eye out for Jacqui so you don’t accidentally run into her, but he is again nowhere to be found.

Where the hell is Bucky? Your mind practically screams as you bump into a strapping chest, but this one unfortunately belongs to the one and only Thor Odinson.

God, could he have worse timing?

You plaster on your best smile, trying your best to keep a calm facade as he introduces you to two older gentlemen he appears to be chaperoning for the night.

As wealthy and influential as they are, having made their billions from a tech empire started with a little trust fund from their families' generational wealth, you can’t find it in you to care at the minute. You just want to find Bucky. Need him to hold you until the tornado of anxiety dissipates in your chest.

But Thor doesn’t allow you to slip away unnoticed, instead he prompts you to talk up the work the team does in the emergency room, speaking about the people you save from all walks of life, from those without health insurance to the affluent who can afford the life saving medical procedures others fail to receive.

Knowing their donations tonight could mean the difference between many getting life saving medicine and not, you summon the will to engage in conversation, trying to push down the acidic bile bubbling in your stomach that had risen as result of your interaction with Jacqui.

The sharp taste remains on your tongue as you’re now caught in philanthropic discussion, silently cursing Thor who stands beside you for ever inviting you to this damn gala in the first place.

It’s at least fifteen minutes later when you finally excuse yourself from their presence, the two men having pulled out their cheque books, much to Thor’s delight, preparing to make generous contributions that would have the hospital naming wards after them.

You hate to think what trouble Jacqui could get up to in that time frame. But you don’t have to wait long to find out.

Finally, after searching near the whole hall for Bucky you find him. Goddess like Jacqui by his side.

She stands there, supermodel tall, blonde bouncy hair, beautiful, toned legs on display through the slit in her dress, a flirty smirk curving on her face, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears like a schoolgirl with a crush.

The nerve of her, approaching Bucky at all, but especially after the words spoken between you earlier.

Just seeing them together, the most exquisitely gorgeous woman flirting with the man whom you love and confirmed less than half an hour ago to her you are in a relationship with, makes your insides tightly twist with jealousy, as if someone were wringing out a wet towel.

Half of your mind is telling you to stalk over there and possessively claim your man in front of everybody, but the other half, the insecure side which believes Bucky could do so much better than you, who would want someone as beautiful as Jacqui by his side, and which is currently winning the battle in your mind, wants to run off crying into the furthest corner of the hospital.

Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture.

Bucky smiles, not quite his signature cocky smirk that never leaves his face when the two of you are together, but it’s definitely a smile nonetheless and your heart sinks through the pit of your stomach.

Men don’t change. He’ll be back to his fuckboy ways.

You’re not sure why you’re letting Jacqui’s words penetrate your mind, burrow into the deepest crevices and allow them to make a home there. You suspect it’s because at one point in time Bucky thought she was desirable enough to take home and do unexplainably filthy things with. Does he still have that same attraction for her?

What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else?

Practically paralysed in place as you watch their interaction, it feels like your heart has stopped beating all together when Jacqui strokes his arm. But buoyant relief comes near milliseconds later when Bucky brushes her off. That’s your man.

You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you distinctly see him mouth the words ‘I have a girlfriend’, which relieves some of the tension in your tightly wound heart.

Bucky frantically searches around the room, and appears to have found what he is looking for as his eyes settle on your face.

There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you.

But when your mind catches up to all the drowning emotions swirling in your chest, an uncontrollable sob bubbles up your throat and tears sting your eyes. You’re not even upset with him, but the fear of what Jacqui had been planning on trying with him still manifests as a choking lump in your throat.

The physical distance between you throughout tonight has let doubt and hesitancy creep into the only small space in your heart Bucky’s affection has not yet touched. Jacqui planted the seed and it’s already bloomed into a large tree, branches crowding space in your tightening chest.

The last thing you remember seeing is Bucky taking a large stride towards you, before your hands fly to cover your mouth and you take off, walking as quickly as you can in your heels, to where you know the nearest on-call room is.

* * *

Prickling panic fills Bucky’s lungs.

Has he inadvertently just ruined the best thing in his life?

Jacqueline’s voice calls his name as he chases after you, watching as you weave between guests and make your way to the nearest exit, which only takes you deeper into the hospital.

He was naive enough to think Jacqueline’s intentions were innocent when she approached him for conversation, just two colleagues catching up at an event that neither of them were fully participating in, but he was sadly mistaken.

He’ll never make that blunder again.

Watching you shuffle into the nearest on-call room, Bucky takes it as a positive sign that he’s not the one you’re upset with, at least not completely, when you don’t slam the door in his face but instead leave it open knowing he’ll follow you inside.

Bucky stays by the doorframe for a split second, watching as you work to steady your breathing, hands wiping the corners of your eyes, but the overwhelming urge and the need to comfort you wins out and he can’t help but hastily rush to your side.

“Darling…” He starts to say but when you look at him with big, wide eyes that are filled with tears, his mind goes blank and all he can think about is holding you.

You turn into his chest, face nuzzled into his lapel, and his arms instinctively close around you.

It’s the little sob which escapes your lips that does Bucky in completely. He hates to see you upset, but never in the months of knowing you has he been privy to this amount of genuine distress. He’s seen some not so great days, shaking frustration, even teary eyed with sadness, but never breaking down weeping.

He would move heaven and earth to ensure you never feel this way again.

He places a feather light kiss to your hairline whispering, “I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

Though it was not his intention, his words provoke more sobs to escape your throat and Bucky pulls you ever closer. He’s practically holding up your entire body weight, and decides you’ll probably be much more comfortable on the bed this on-call room provides.

Even seated, you cling to him like he’s your lifeline, and Bucky can’t ever imagine letting go. He’d drown if it meant holding you safely out of the rough, relentless rapids currently flooding your mind.

As a paramedic, he’s so used to taking action, launching into a crisis with the equipment to be able to provide aid, to prevent further suffering. But right now all you need is his presence, to be the anchor grounding you to this world as a reminder that you have someone in your corner fighting for your happiness.

He hates not being able to do more for you.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Bucky asks after minutes of comforting you without words.

God, you feel so stupid. Crying at a work function because one of your boyfriend's ex-flings decided to flirt with him.

But it’s more than that - it’s the disrespect, the fact that she seems so entitled to Bucky’s affection simply because at some point in his history he slept with her, regardless of if she hurts you along the way to get to him. Do all the women at the hospital look at you like you’re an inconsequential ant they can step on to get what they want?

It doesn’t help that she's also the most stunning, physical personification of a man’s wet dream you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not you Buck, it’s her.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just continues rubbing his large hand up and down your back, which tells you he’s confused by your statement. Perhaps you’re not making any sense in this outburst of emotion, you can barely keep your thoughts in a logical stream let alone expressing them eloquently.

“Jacqui, she… I told her we were together, she knew I was your girlfriend, and she still had the nerve to flirt with you.”

“I didn’t flirt back.” Bucky says defensively, and as much as you adore him, it’s making you frustrated having to spell it out for him how her actions have made you feel when your throat is aching from pure emotion.

You take a deep breath, allowing oxygen to diffuse into the deepest alveoli of your lungs, calming the constant stream of anxious thoughts, and letting you regain control of the tears falling from your eyes.

You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling.

“I don’t know if it’s jealousy or insecurity. I genuinely don’t care how many women you were with before me Buck, it’s just a number, it doesn’t matter.” You sit up and look him in the eye, needing to convey just how vigorously you believe your statement. “It’s just… it's a soul crushing feeling that people in the hospital, people I have to work with every day, use the fact that you’ve slept with them to make me feel uncomfortable. That somehow because they know what you look like naked it diminishes our relationship and then they feel entitled to flirt with you and try and fuck you even though they know you’re dating me.”

The misery in Bucky’s eyes is almost tangible, and maybe it’s just an illusion from tears in your own, but seeing you hurting makes him start to cry too. His large hands engulf both of yours and his thumb strokes the backs of your hands resting comfortingly in your lap.

Previous partners have always brushed you off, gaslit you or raised their voice and called you crazy when you expressed an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity, but Bucky listens to each of your words with a determined focus, taking the weight of them on himself, as if they have just as much significance to him as they do to you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry Jaqueline made you feel that way. She had no right. But you need to know there is not a single woman on the face of this earth that could tempt me away from you, no matter how hard they try. No one has ever had me like you do.”

The panic beating of your heart starts to calm when Bucky places gentle kisses to your knuckles. His eyes brim with trepidation, as if he’s just realised how fragile relationships can be and he’s desperately trying to hold onto you, preventing you from ever letting go again.

“I can’t change my past, as much as I might want to, but all I know is you’re my future.” Tears trickle out of the corners of your eyes, but now the reason being due to happiness at Bucky’s sweet confession.

What did you ever do to deserve him?

“My life before I met you was dull, black and white reruns of the same shit each day. Since I met you, everything is in vivid colour. If I could go back in time and wait for you, I would. If I knew you were around the corner, there wouldn’t be any other women. But to me, you’re the only woman that matters. It’s so profoundly better with you because I-, because I care about you beyond comprehension. There were never any feelings with anyone else. You are the only person I have ever felt this way for. You have nothing to be insecure about or anyone to be jealous of, you’re the only woman in my eyes, and I-, you’re my everything.” For someone who constantly says he isn’t very good with words, Bucky always seems to know exactly what to say to make you fall even more in love with him. They are perfect words. Precisely what you need to hear from the man who has quickly become the reason for your being.

There’s a buoyancy in your chest as those familiar eyes, so blue you could drown in, examine your face for any non verbal cues of how you’ll react to his words.

“You really feel that way James?” You ready yourself, inadvertently grinding your teeth, waiting, hoping, wishing for him to say those three little words that will take your relationship to the next level.

But that hope pops like a bubble floating in the wind.

“Darling, I would never lie to you.” He punctuates with a kiss to your lips, slow and fervent, full of meaning. The look in his eye tells you he wants to reveal more, but it passes in a blink. “C’mon, let me take you home, and I’ll show you just how much I care.”

Bucky’s firm hold on your hand never leaves yours as he leads you back through the gala. You notice some glance at you, but all you’re focussed on is your boyfriend, his head held proudly high, not giving a damn what other hospital staff are whispering under their breaths.

* * *

Bucky slowly unzips the back of your dress, the material slowly falling away from your shoulders. A shiver runs down your spine as his lips kiss down the path of the zipper, starting between your shoulder blades, careful not to miss a single inch of skin as your dress bunches around your stomach and hips.

“You were the most beautiful woman there tonight. You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” He whispers against your skin, in such a sure tone you can’t help but believe him. His hands roaming over the base of your spine before gently pulling your dress over your hips. “Can’t believe I got to be the man who walked in with you as my partner.”

Bucky turns you around to kiss you once you’re bare for him. The passion, zealousness of his lips feels like you’re drowning in a tender devotion he could not articulate with just words themselves.

You don’t need to break away from the kiss to push his jacket off, unbutton his shirt, nor unbuckle his belt. He’s as hard as a rock, standing at attention ready for you as soon as his trousers hit the floor.

“My darling girl…” He practically growls in your ear when you cup his balls with one hand as the other starts stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pearly bead of precum over his tip whilst placing kisses to his chest. “This will be a very short, one act play if you keep doing that.”

“I’ve barely touched you Buck.”

“Mmm, I know. That’s just how much you turn me on.” The signature smirk he shoots you turns your stomach to mush, and makes you feel like you’re the dazzling sun at the centre of his universe.

Bucky’s large hands pull you down on the bed, on top of him. He sits you on his thick thighs, tongue sweeping into your mouth, hands exploring your every curve.

You wish you could live in this moment forever, relishing in how much care Bucky holds you with, but still manages to make you feel like you’re the sexiest woman in the solar system.

It hits you square in the chest when his soothing, wide blue eyes look up at you with a familiar tenderness that gives life to butterflies in your stomach, that you would do anything for the man underneath you, the man you love.

“What do you want, darling?” Bucky asks between breaths as he sucks on your hard nipple, his tongue swirling, doing magical things that could make you cum just like this. “What do you need?” He adds, switching to your other breast, which makes it hard to control your stream of thoughts - but there is one thing at the forefront of your mind that you don’t have to consider to know you need desperately.

“You.”

He lets out a groan around your nipple and you suspect thrusts his hips up involuntarily, just to feel closer to you.

“I need you Buck.” You repeat, tucking your finger under his chin and bringing his lips up to tenderly touch yours, as the urge to kiss him overcomes you. If it were up to you, the remainder of your life would be spent with your lips locked with his.

“How?” His stubble scratches the tips of your fingers as you cup his face. The desire brimming in his eyes, the hunger to ravish every part of you, the yearning to have you so close to him you can’t tell where you end and he begins, leaves you breathless.

“Just like this, please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but your imploring tone inspires Bucky on, not wanting to waste a single second more where the two of you are not joined.

Your forehead rests against his, his eyes boring into yours as he simultaneously uses one hand to assist you lifting yourself to hover over him, and the other to line his tip up to your dripping entrance.

An obscene sound from the back of your throat topples from your lips as you sink down on Bucky's cock. He doesn’t take his adoration filled eyes off you for a single second, even to blink, as he fills you up completely. A whine escapes his lips once you’re seated on his thighs, appreciating how your pussy is swallowing his entire, impressive length.

“You enjoy sitting on your throne?” You can tell he’s trying to tease, a mischievous twinkle in those deep blue eyes, but his voice quivers slightly, almost as if it’s strained, which you know him too well to realise is a dead giveaway for just how aroused he is.

How aroused he is by you.

That fact alone is enough for you to start grinding against him, hips moving back and forth, working up a rhythm that has you seeing stars and him groaning your name.

Both of his large, calloused hands are resting on your hips, helping you keep the tempo, making sure each rock of your hips results in your clit being stimulated against his pelvis. His lips find your collarbone, teeth scraping your delicate skin, the sensation of which clears your mind of any coherent teasing response you could have come up with.

“Fuck, look at you fucking yourself on me. You’re a fucking dream.” Bucky’s mouth is one of the most arousing parts of him, not only for what his lips and tongue can do to your body but also for the salacious words he speaks in that gravelly tone which turns you on just as much as his body does. “That’s it, fuck me darling, this cock is all yours.”

“Buck you’re so deep.” Is all you can think, all you can feel is how his length is nestled within you, how much he fills you up. You’re bursting because of how satiated you feel with him inside you, but Bucky’s musky, woody scent, as well as his warm, tender touch surrounds you from the outside, you feel like he’s everywhere all at once, and it brings you right to the brink of coming undone.

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” In this moment you want to give him everything you have, give him everything he’s asking for and more. His voice is gentle the next time he speaks, a murmur just for you, and matches the softness in his gaze. “It’s okay, I got you. Let go for me.”

Bucky sucks the pulse point on the side of your throat and it’s the complete end of you. You shudder, feeling safe caged in his arms as ecstasy fires up from the base of your spine through every neuron in your body, your toes curling, fingers scratching down Bucky's back - you can even taste it on the tip of your tongue as you scream his name.

Your legs shake uncontrollably, unable to continue your pattern of movement grinding down against him, but Bucky takes matters into his own hands by wrapping his arms around your waist and fucking up into you to prolong your high.

Once you’ve finally stopped seeing stars, your vision coming back into focus, all you can see is the adoration, pure captivation as he looks up at your sweaty form trying to catch your breath.

“That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

No one’s ever looked at you like this before, as if you’re the only girl in the world, the only person that matters to them, the one who holds their fragile heart in the palm of your hands and trusts you not to break it.

A dangerous thought flashes through your mind - do you dare tell Bucky that you love him for the first time right now, in the middle of the throes of passion. You have always wanted to let him set the pace of the relationship - he was the one who wanted to take it slow, not rushing into anything, but you can tell by the blooming warmth spreading through your chest, you have never loved someone more than you love him right now.

Bucky reaches up and affectionately brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and before you can think twice about if you truly want to confess your devotion in this moment, he’s kissing you again.

Before you can even recognise what he’s doing, his toned arms have engulfed you in a tight embrace, and without pulling out of you, he flips you onto your back, making sure your head rests gently on one of your pillows. His body weight presses you deliciously into the mattress, it feels like being tucked in securely with a weighted blanket that just so happens to look like a Greek god.

“Need to feel you cum on my cock again, it’s so fucking addicting.” Bucky practically growls in your ear, his breathing heavy. His long chestnut hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t prevent him from gazing at you with a tangible combination of awe and lust.

The thrust of his hips is downright sinful. You feel the longing absence of each inch of him as he pulls out, only for him to split you apart again as his hips snap forward. Bucky starts out slow, his fingers intertwine with yours, forcing your hands above your head, but when he starts placing open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw, his strokes pick up momentum.

James Barnes has you in a trance, caged in by the sheer size of him, each languid, sensual thrust into you tightens the knot twisting into shape at the bottom of your belly.

He’s so breathtakingly beautiful, the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. As his shining pupils fixate on the pleasure contorting your face you ponder if he is possibly thinking the exact same way about you.

The moans dripping from his lips, mixed with grunted curses, along with the telltale crease in his forehead, and the fact that his teasing mouth can’t come up with anything coherent is evidence of how close he is. But you know Bucky’s generous heart better than anyone, perhaps even himself, and you are sure he’ll be determined not to cum before you.

One of his large hands continues to pin your wrists down as the other moves to wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Then he has the fucking audacity to rub the pads of his fingers over your clit in tight circles. You’re so done for.

“Bucky, oh fuck… yes, just like that.” You manage to stammer out, barely able to move with his weight pinning you beneath him, knowing your body is hurtling towards an inescapable, forceful orgasm, and all you can do is feel as Bucky plays your body like a fiddle.

“Please, need you to… I can’t last like this.” You can feel the desperate, animalistic timbre of his deep voice in your chest and his hot breath against your neck. “Darling please.”

And then you shatter.

Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.

Bucky speaks your name as a prayer, a vow, a promise. Over and over again. A reminder that you are who he is coming apart for.

It almost makes you dizzy how lost he is in the feel of you, how his hands spread you open as far as your legs will flex, but then you hear the wanton whimper as he spills his orgasm inside you and it’s almost enough to make you cum again.

As your heart rates slowly return to normal, Bucky lays down beside you, cupping your face tenderly as his tongue slips once again into your mouth. You would have thought given the display of passion just produced he’d have had his fill of physical affection, but he continues to surprise you.

Who would have guessed that Bucky ‘doesn’t go on second dates’ Barnes would now be clinging to you like a koala, not being able to get enough of your touch.

* * *

“Sweet dreams Buck.” You whisper in that tired, yet sickly sweet tone that Bucky associates with the contentment of falling asleep beside you.

”They’ll all be about you.” He responds with a delicate kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing gentle lines up and down the expanse of your back.

“Then I wish you nothing but dirty dreams.”

He rarely dreams of anything else nowadays, but it makes him smile nevertheless that your minds think in such similar ways.

You really are the girl of his dreams.

Even more than that, if there was an expression which captured just how significant you had become intertwined in his life after a relatively short period of time. His brain could not have concocted someone as perfect as you, even in his wildest fantasies.

He holds you close to him in the total darkness as your breathing slows, but there are too many thoughts racing through Bucky’s brain for him to fall asleep.

Tonight was perfect. Complete, utter perfection. Not that he expects any less of a night spent with you.

So why, even after building the courage all week ahead of the gala, (and if he was honest with himself, since the week he swapped to be on the night shift with you), had he yet to utter those three magic words?

Steve would say there was one final wall around Bucky’s heart he had yet to pull down for you, to reveal his deepest darkest vulnerability that he could barely admit to himself, let alone the flawless woman who consumed his every waking thought.

The insecurity he had been plagued with since he was fourteen years old and his father had wished death upon him.

The fear that he is innately unloveable.

Just because he loves you in a way that influences his every decision, impacts every aspect of his existence, and alters the chemistry of his brain, doesn’t mean you are as hauntingly consumed by devotion as he is.

And even though the rational part of his brain tries reminding him you would not have shown such patience and stuck around as he clumsily attempted to manoeuvre being in a relationship for the first time if you truly did not want to be with him, that nagging insecurity is always at the back of his mind like a fog that won’t clear, doubting whether after everything he has endured, if he is deserving of being loved the same way he adores you.

But at some point Bucky knows he needs to find the bravery to take that leap, even if your possible rejection would be his ultimate downfall.

“Darling?” Bucky whispers as quietly as he can into the still night air. You don’t stir, nor do you respond, which is exactly what he’s hoping for. “Darling, are you awake?” He questions slightly louder so that you couldn’t help but hear him considering his proximity.

You continue to rest peacefully, lips slightly parted and breathing steadily, which is precisely how you always appear when sleeping beside him, but given the gravity of what he is about to reveal to you, Bucky has to be absolutely positive you’re in a deep slumber.

“Chicken butt.” He says randomly, hoping that if you are feigning sleep this will cause a crack in your rather convincing facade. But to his delight, your expression doesn’t change in the slightest, no muscle in your face so much as flinches, and Bucky is finally convinced.

He takes a deep breath, readying himself even though he knows you’re unable to hear him.

“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.”

You provide no response, features stay perfectly still, breathing rate doesn’t change. Which is of course exactly the reaction he’s hoping for while you rest, but he can’t stop his mind from wondering what your reply might be if you were awake; if you’d profess the words back to him, or if instead you’d recoil, shying away possibly because Bucky was moving too quickly.

Nevertheless, Bucky knows better than most that life can be painfully short, everyone has their expiration date, and you need to tell the people in your life how much you care about them before it’s too late.

“I love you.” He repeats with a smile and a kiss to your bare shoulder. Though he is navigating the all consuming, anxiety riddled, life ruining feeling of falling in love for the first time, Bucky knows with absolute certainty that he would go through it all again, one hundred times over, if it meant getting to spend his life with you.

But now for the difficult part - he has to say those three life changing words when you’re actually awake to hear them.

* * *

When the irritating ringing of your alarm wakes you up the following morning, a wave of disappointment washes over you. The night before with Bucky had been nothing short of memorable; complete with overflowing emotion, devotion, and no hint of apprehension from the man who had previously told you himself he wanted to take the relationship slow.

It was the most tangible display of pure love you have ever beheld.

But now, you lay alone in a web of cold sheets, Bucky’s place beside you unnaturally empty. When he has an early shift, typically he wakes you before he leaves, and at the very least gives you a kiss on the forehead, if not a much more intimate show of affection. But today, you have no recollection of being woken, no memory of his pillow soft lips on yours.

You find it takes a much more determined effort to get out of bed without an energising kiss from your Bucky.

The gala is the talk of the hospital, those who did not receive an invite interrogating everyone who attended for all the latest gossip. You hear your and Bucky’s names dropped a couple times in passing conversation, but all that does is remind you of the night before, and Bucky proclaiming his devotion to you while extracting a pleasure from your body no one else has been able to produce.

Tonight, you promise yourself, those three small words that have been tugging at your mind for the last month, tonight you’ll tell Bucky.

His declaration of wanting to take your relationship slowly was all the way back before your second date, before you officially became his girlfriend, before you held him as his mother underwent life saving surgery, before you knew of his traumatic past, before he switched to the night shift just so he could see you more often, before last night where he told you you are his everything.

Regardless of if he says the words back, you need to tell him. Need him to know that he is the love of your life, that synapses in your brain have reformed so your train of thought always comes back to him, that he has rewritten the molecular code inscribed in your cells so that they crave him like water, drawing him in like osmosis.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your pager going off, calling an all hands on deck emergency.

The ER is a frenzy of nurses clearing trauma rooms, doctors discharging patients who have already been seen to and Dr Strange shouting at surgical staff to prepare the operating rooms.

“There was a shooting at the mall. Police and paramedics are on scene, but it sounds bad.” Wanda fills you in as you both wash your hands and put gloves on, getting ready for the volume of blood and carnage that comes with gunshot wounds.

Dr Strange gathers the emergency medicine team together to brief you all on what you’re about to face. His face is stoic, having treated too many disasters to even seem phased by the decimation of so many lives.

You have not mastered that, but you also like having your humanity, caring about people is what you do best.

“So far we know of eight victims being routed here. There will most likely be more. All G.S.Ws, five women, two men and a child, about eight. One of the men was a paramedic on scene.” The last sentence out of his mouth gives you pause.

A male paramedic was shot.

“A paramedic? Did they say who? Give a description?” All eyes turn to you and no one needs to say it aloud to know exactly what you’re thinking.

“No, that’s all the information we have at this time. They should only be a few minutes out.” You’ve never known Dr Strange to be very sympathetic, but the look he shoots at you is what you assume to be the most compassion he is capable of.

The nagging part of your brain that always finds a route to the most devastating scenario, no matter how unlikely, is screaming so loudly you cannot ignore it.

What if that paramedic is Bucky?

There would have to be thousands of paramedics in a city of this size, what would the chances actually be that Bucky is the one paramedic in critical danger at this very moment.

But the universe has always found a way to be cruel to you, with the exception of when it brought devilishly handsome Bucky Barnes into your life. But what could be more cruel than introducing you to unconditional love and then destroying your heart by taking it away just as swiftly?

Wanda, sensing your paralysing worry beside her, comfortingly strokes her hand up and down your upper arm. “He was working the morning shift today, his shift will be well and truly over. He shouldn’t have been working when the shooting happened.”

“Yeah… he was on morning shift today.” Reminding yourself how you woke up in bed alone. Your lips tremble as you attempt to talk yourself down from the ledge of sheer panic. But your best friend can tell this fact doesn’t convince you.

“Call him.” Wanda instructs with a level voice, only a small glisten in her pupils gives away that she too is worried for his safety.

Your hands are shaking uncontrollably as you locate his contact in your favourites, accidentally dialling your mum first before you see the picture you have of the two of you together set as his contact pop up as it starts ringing.

Time stands perfectly still, the bustling hospital which is always full of movement, the constant beeping of patients pulse oximeters, announcements sounding over the PA, it all goes dead silent and all you hear is the ring tone of a phone call which Bucky isn’t answering.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

It goes to voicemail, his voice filling your ears but it’s of no relief because it’s only a recording.

You press his contact again.

And again.

And again.

The fourth time you’re forced to listen to his infuriating voicemail, you leave a panicked message. “Bucky I’m so worried about you, please ring me back as soon as you get this. There’s been a shooting. Please, I need to hear your voice, hear that you’re alright. Please.”

You thought he’d pick up the phone and relieve you from this torment, but now knowing he hasn’t answered after multiple calls, you’re more convinced than ever it’s him that’s been shot.

“Wanda if it’s-”

“You can’t think like that.” But that's all you can think about. Your job, the duty you have to these patients who are en route to the hospital, none of that comes close to the need to know Bucky is unharmed.

The world starts moving in slow motion as the first of the patients arrives. Time runs like molasses, but the anxiety in your chest turns up one hundred fold, as if flashes of lightning strike your chest one after another.

A woman gets pushed in on a gurney, light brown hair stained with blood, and even from the sight of how the paramedic needs to hold her skull flap to her head to prevent her brain being exposed, you know she won’t make it as much as the surgeons will try to save her.

There’s a child, not much bigger than Sasha who you treated the day you first met Bucky, that gets pushed through next. In complete juxtaposition, she’s sitting up talking to paramedics, arm in a sling, but mostly looks unharmed.

And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart.

Chestnut hair and an EMT uniform.

You’d know those thick, wavy locks anywhere.

“Bucky!” You don’t even recognise your own voice with how much terror it is consumed with. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

In a flash you’re by his side, keeping pace as they wheel him deeper into the hospital, your lungs and throat scorching with distress.

You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.

Not your Bucky. They can’t take your Bucky.

“Buck, can you hear me?” Your hand cups his cheek, and he’s as cold as ice. His eyes are shut so he can’t even look at you to give you one last chance to memorise the astonishingly blue irises which have been your source of solace since meeting him.

A mask covers his mouth and nose, delivering rescue breaths. You try to place a block in your mind to stop it from retrieving the medical knowledge you have spent years memorising - you don’t want to know how catastrophic a situation his body must be in to be needing rescue breaths.

“I love you, James. You hear me? I love you!” It almost ends your existence when he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even so much as flinch at your confession. You hope any part of him that is still alive inside the casing of his cold body manages to hear those words.

Dr Strange and Wanda have to physically restrain you from following the team treating Bucky and prevent you entering the operating theatre.

Dr Strange’s voice sounds like a hum, too far away to make sense of even though he’s pushing you away from the OR. All you’re focussed on is keeping your eyes on Bucky for as long as you can.

Is this the last time you will ever see him alive?

It’s only once he is out of sight, that your brain starts to catch up to the realisation of what has actually happened.

Bucky was shot. A bullet ripped through his skin, tearing muscle and fascia, lacerating his organs, possibly fatally wounding him.

Bullets are designed to kill. To end the life of the organism the gun barrel is aimed at. There is no mercy from a gunshot wound, you had seen too many to believe better.

A guttural cry forces its way out of your parched windpipe without you being able to prevent it, your kneecaps sting as you fall to the ground. Hot, large tears cascade onto your cheeks as Wanda’s arms engulf you.

Any second now, James Buchanan Barnes’ heart could be taking its final beat and you wouldn’t be any wiser. His lungs would stop breathing, preventing oxygen from binding to hemoglobin in his blood and reaching his brain. Everything else would shut down quickly from there.

One second he’d be here and the next he wouldn’t.

James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore.

You had seen it too often, heard from bereaved family members time and time again how quickly it had all happened, but it wasn’t until this very moment that you understood the magnitude of that sentiment.

How could he go from telling you yesterday night that you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on to now possibly his cold, lifeless body laying on an operating table with his soul having crossed over to the afterlife?

You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh.

Never see his dazzling sapphire eyes as they regard you with overwhelming affection.

Never feel that warm rapture blooming in your chest when he’d proclaim himself as yours and kiss you in the same breath.

He’ll never get to know you love him.

It feels as though you are tumbling wildly down into an abyss, waiting for the inevitable crash at the bottom that would either end this eternal suffering or that sudden jerk, the lurch as you wake up from this cruel nightmare.

Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed.

Oxygen would be the gift you’d allow yourself once your love was awake and talking again; cracking stupid jokes with his signature cocky smirk and flirting with you like you were on your first date again.

And if he were to pass into the next life, taking your heart with him, then you would simply refuse to take another breath until you were reunited with him once again.

Part 10 coming soon

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @Dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @aya-fay @lowkeysebby @redbarn1995 @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky

[vintagebueckers]

   ꒰       ࣪˖𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ─  𝓟𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅 , lamelo ball    .ᐟ  .ᐣ       ꒱

★ he needed to be nothing like your ex and everything your parents hated. he needed to be loud, flashy, heavily tattooed, and slight obnoxious. everything your ex boyfriend wasn't, just to spite your ex for cheating on you with some no name bitch at a party and your parents for constantly pushing you to date there friends insufferable children. they were all the same, insecure, shallow and boring. sure you would go along with it for your parents sake, but there was only so much jealousy and fragile male ego you could take before you had enough.

★ and today was that day. this wasn't by any mean's a premeditated plan of action. no quite the opposite, it was a spur of the moment decision that was born from boredom and a result of retail therapy on you ex's card (which he didn't know was missing) failing to lift your spirits. that's when you decided date someone you knew would get a rise out of both your ex boyfriend and parents, kill two birds with one stone.

★ someone so outlandish and removed from the safe cookie cutter rich boy's you were use to having on your arm, and someone who could both give your mother a heart attack and make your ex spiral with jealousy before the weeks end. it was a masterstroke of genuine, and to be honest you should have though about doing this sooner. it was genius, all you had to do was go on a date have the paparazzi snap a few pictures and boom everyone who you wanted to be pissed of would be that and then some in a matter of seconds.

★ your friend had set this up for you, her text stating that she had found the perfect person for your devious plan and send you the link to a reservation at you favourite new york restaurant with a hundred percent guarantee of paparazzi being present. guaranteeing your face would be all over the front page by nine o' clock tomorrow, though your friend wouldn't say who would be waiting for you at the restaurant. and though you would never admit it.

★ the idea of not knowing who you were meeting in advance made you nervous, as while you did want to piss of as many people as humanly possible in twenty four hours. what if this went horribly wrong? you mulled it over during the two hours you took to get ready, as you picked out your best outfit, applying a light face of make-up but with a sharp eye as to not look to plain, giving yourself a simple yet effortless hairstyle to tie it all together. before adding the final finishing touches, simple yet elegant jewellery and perfume. and by the time you were done, your driver was waiting to whisk you away.

★ which means it was to late to turn back now. any trace of uncertainty you had the moment you stepped out of the car, game faces only. but nothing could have prepared you for the shock of who was at the table. lamelo ball, your ex's favourite basketball player someone who he would yack on about for hours at a time to the point it had become white noise. a smile tugged at your lips as you walked to the table "this seat taken?" you asked knowing full well what the answer would be. "nah, all your ma." he said standing up to pull out her chair "you come here often, or am I just lucky tonight?" oh now this was going to be fun "show me a good time and you'll find out handsome"

all rights reserved, ©vintagebueckers.

[lucysarah-c]

How do you think Levi will react when his partner gets jealous with his past flings? Like they know that it means nothing and he was just a playboy back then and he is being serious with them but who isnt get jealous at the thought of other women had him before them

Hi! How are you?

Funny enough, this actually happened in one of my fics (Holy Ground, ch. 18) haha. Believe it or not, I think Levi is someone who doesn’t handle jealousy scenes very well. Some couples find it—if it’s not actually toxic and just an occasional thing—almost funny, even endearing. But Levi? He doesn’t find them endearing at all haha. I can just picture him going, "Me? For real? You’re making a jealousy scene over me? I barely tolerate people, I’m grumpy, blunt, and I talk to almost no one on a daily basis. And you’re doubting me?" Almost like saying, "I’d get it if I were someone more outgoing or charming—like Eyebrows, who smiles at every stranger—but me?"

If the jealousy is about something he did before they were even together, oh boy hahaha. At first, he wouldn’t even take it seriously, but once he realizes she actually means it? Levi would be like, "You’ve gotta be kidding me." I think I’ve mentioned this before, but Levi is not only extremely secretive about his past—he’s also deeply mistrustful about it. If he opens up about his past or past relationships, it’s because he’s trying to share a piece of himself. But at the same time, Levi knows he did a lot of shit as a young man haha. Still, in his mind, it’s his shit. His mistakes. His past. I feel like he has this mentality of, "I did what I had to do in the shitty situation I was in. And despite all that, I turned out… somehow decent." So if someone tries to use his past against him—either to lecture him or to get jealous over it—not only are they shutting down any chance of him opening up again, but he’s not going to take it nicely. I can definitely see him getting defensive, like:

"I didn’t have parents to tell me what was good for me or to lecture me. Don’t try to take on that role now, because I don’t need it—and it’s not your damn place."

At first, he might brush it off as a joke. Like, "Are you serious? Don’t be stupid. Who cares about that? You have me now—isn’t that what matters? I was with them when I didn’t even know how to clean my ass properly. I’m with you now, as an adult." Maybe he’d even play along a little, pulling her back to him, getting that sassy edge in his tone—"Didn’t you love all the things I know how to do thanks to them? You sure seemed grateful last night." But if he realizes she’s genuinely upset? That’s when he might actually get mad lol.

Of course, he understands that jealousy isn’t something a person can just turn off. He’d probably try to talk it out because, in his mind, the real issue here isn’t the past—it’s trust. "She doesn’t trust me." And that’s the real problem, right? But at the same time, he’s not going to tolerate it if it becomes a habit. Like, Levi can be controlling, but don’t try to control him haha. I have this feeling that when Levi enters a relationship—especially as a Captain—it’s because he’s looking for some kind of happiness, some calm in the chaos of his life. He doesn’t want it to turn into a constant argument over who he’s been with or who he talked to.

I think that’s everything! <3 Hope you like it!

[elene78-blog]

TGR SPOILERS and THEORY ABOUT KEVIN AND JEAN

Am I the only one who found the contrast between TSC's "nice" Kevin and TGR's "rude" and slightly douchebag Kevin weird?

 Yes, Kevin had his moments of kindness, but he went from asking Jean to breathe, with his head in his hands, to roughly slamming him against the wall to calm him down before the interview in a threatening tone. He went from holding Jean's hand gently while he was in bed to "I know you hate me sometimes. I don't care."

 Okay, yeah, Kevin sends Jean a new postcard and all, and they have a very revealing conversation, but the contrast kept me pretty mad at him overall. Furthermore, in the interview Kevin was also quite rude compared to how he usually appears. Honestly, I saw Kevin as a real asshole compared to TSC. I found this change very strange. And I just thought about something about that, something that has already been exemplified in the original trilogy, and my theory is that...

 Kevin has always been this jerk (I call him that affectionately, you know what I mean) even on TSC, but Jean was describing him with the eyes of a person who idealizes another. This makes a ton of sense because Kevin was all the kindness Jean knew. Just Kevin and his tough love. The only person he's ever been "in love" with... until now.

That's why in TSC Kevin is so soft, because we see him through the eyes of a Jean who only knew that "kindness", of a Jean who continued to idealize him even though he also hated Kevin. A Jean who says "he has earned the right to be arrogant" without hesitation because Kevin continued to be his reference in terms of conflicting feelings.

 But this is no longer the case, is it?

 Now Jean knows what kindness is outside of The Nest. Now Jean has started to develop feelings for someone else, and no one has treated him like Kevin has, with that harshness at USC. Jeremy, his partner, has never treated him like that either. That's why TGR's Kevin is tougher in contrast to TSC and much less kind, because Jean is starting to stop idealizing Kevin now that he knows the genuine kindness of people who haven't been to The Nest. He sees the difference between Kevin and his current friends, and starts to go crazy because... Has Kevin always been like this, or did Jean see him that way because he didn't know anything else? 

In other words... Jean is "falling out of love."

Let's look at this a little more closely from when Kevin arrives to when he leaves: 

1. - Kevin arrives and helps Jean get dressed. Jeremy sees how Jean lets herself go and his eyes even shine a little. Some people say this shows that Jean is still in love with Kevin. I think it shows Jean's idealization of him, and a reflection of his own history (I think Jean stopped being in love with Kevin a long time ago, but Kevin was one of the few good things Jean had in The Nest, so he holds onto those few good memories tightly). 

2. - Kevin starts drinking and Jean loses his temper. Try to attack him. Kevin shakes him roughly and Jean relents. Why does Jean attack? Because the Kevin he knows, his idealized image, doesn't drink or have problems. He outgrew The Nest. He's better than that. Here Jean's image of Kevin begins to fall and that makes Jean not understand anything and gets angry. Kevin has to be perfect because KEVIN CAME OUT OF THERE. But Kevin doesn't seem like it and Jean starts to get more and more nervous about it. 

3. - Jean's nervousness increases during the interview. We see Kevin being quite blunt with the interviewer and, although Kevin is protective of Jean, Jean's descriptions of Kevin's actions are quite distant. Maybe because of nervousness, who knows? But when Jean comes up to breathe, Jean says something revealing.

Jean doesn't care who accompanies him outside. He doesn't care if it's Kevin or anyone else. Jean is clear that Kevin can't do anything at this point. Kevin has failed in this interview and in his task, which was to make everything go well. 

4.- They return home with the taste of failure. Jean and Kevin talk. Kevin reveals that he needs the help of alcohol because therapy isn't always a help. He reveals that he still hears Riko in his head continuously. To put it another way, Kevin shows weakness to Jean and Jean is shocked.

 "You should be better."

 The idealization of Kevin practically disappears with this phrase, and what happens next demonstrates it.

 5.- Cat hugs Jean, almost crying for the loss of Elodie. Jean sees here Cat's kindness versus the kindness that Kevin has barely been able to give him because Kevin doesn't know what kindness is either. This scene is very powerful because this is where Jean's change begins. This is where I think Jean begins to recognize his people. Kevin can't do more because Kevin is Jean's equal, not someone superior like Jean has always believed. If Kevin is just like Jean... That means Kevin is also "weak."

The idealization ends. Now everything depends on Jean. And from here on, the protective Jean appears because Jean understands that, if the immovable point that was Kevin is not such a thing and everything has been a lie that has been created in his own mind, only he himself can protect and help his people. 

The Nest's psyche begins to crumble because number two, second only to Riko, is just like Jean. This psyche begins to crumble because true kindness is that of "his people", not that of The Nest. If Kevin is not immovable, anything can happen. 

6.- And then Jean hits Bryson to protect Jeremy and his own home. 

Does it make sense?

[dazedangsl]

BLOWING MONEY FAST   skater!chris

When Chris’s board gets stolen, y/n surprises him with a new one, customized with inside jokes and doodles only they would understand.

Chris had never been so pissed in his life. He’d left his skateboard leaning against his car for a minute. Just a minute. But when he came back, it was gone. Stolen. It wasn’t the kind of board you could just replace—at least, not without feeling like an idiot. That board had been with him through everything. It had scratches from late-night sessions, stickers that had been on there since he was 15, and a little dent from that one time he wiped out trying a trick he couldn’t even land. It was his, and now, it was gone. The worst part? No one had even seen anything. No one knew who took it. It was just gone. “Shit,” he muttered, pacing around the parking lot. He was pissed off but also kind of empty. That board was more than just something he rode—it was an extension of himself. He sent a text to y/n, knowing she’d get it.

“Someone stole my board.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for y/n to know the kind of day he was having. She didn’t reply right away, but he figured she was busy. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the curb. What the hell am I gonna do now?

The next day, Chris wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a pity message from y/n, maybe a distraction, but nothing more. So when she texted him early in the afternoon with just two words: “Meet me”—he was thrown off. “Where?” he typed back, raising an eyebrow. “Park. You’ll see.”

When he showed up, y/n was standing next to their car, arms crossed, looking smug. She didn’t say anything at first, just waved him over.

Chris raised an eyebrow, a little confused. “You got something to show me or are we just standing here?”

“Patience,” y/n said, smiling just enough to make him curious.

She motioned to the back of the car, where a large sheet was draped over something. Chris couldn’t help but lean in, eyes scanning over it.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” y/n said, pulling the sheet away slowly. “I figured you might need a new one.”

Underneath was a fresh skateboard, brand new, not a scratch on it. It looked normal at first glance, but then Chris saw the details. The deck was covered in black and grey, but there were tiny doodles all over it—subtle things that only he and y/n would ever notice. A little sketch of a pizza slice in the corner (from that night they had the awful pizza), a drawing of a stick figure with a helmet on (an inside joke about Chris always wearing gear), and a couple of random notes scribbled across the edges. There were even a few phrases, like, “Get over yourself” and “Maybe next time, huh?”—quotes from some of their dumbest conversations.

Chris blinked, then smirked. He ran a hand over the board, examining the details. The board was a damn masterpiece, but more than that, it was a reflection of their relationship—laid-back, but full of random, weird moments they both cherished. It was perfect.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, voice low. He tried to act cool, but there was a bit of softness behind it.

“I know,” y/n said, shrugging. “But you’re not exactly the type to ask for help when something matters to you. And I figured if I didn’t do something, you’d just mope around for the next week.”

Chris gave her a look. “I do not mope.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t.”

He chuckled, stepping forward to pick up the board. “This… this is actually kind of perfect,” he said, genuinely. “I mean, I don’t know how you did it, but yeah. This is way better than the old one.”

“I had to make sure it was up to your standards,” y/n said, her tone soft but playful.

Chris looked at the board again, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t just a replacement—it was something that actually meant something.

He ran a hand along the edge, grinning at one of the doodles. “You know, you could’ve just gotten me a new board, but this—this is next-level. This is us.”

“Exactly.” y/n gave a shrug, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “Now, what’s the deal? You going to ride it or just keep staring at it like a weirdo?”

Chris smirked, ready to get back to doing what he loved. “Guess I better break it in then.”

He jumped on the board and pushed off, rolling down the park path. y/n stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with a quiet satisfaction.

It didn’t take long for Chris to start getting used to the new board. And as the day went on, it felt like the missing piece had been filled. Every little detail on the deck—the subtle artwork, the personal touches, the things only he and y/n would recognize—made it feel like his again.

But the thing that really stuck with him was that y/n had understood. She got it. She knew that it wasn’t just about the board itself, but about what it represented.

“Hey,” Chris called out as he coasted back toward y/n. “Thanks. Really.”

y/n nodded, not looking up. “Don’t mention it.”

Chris stopped right in front of her, hopping off the board. “No, seriously. This means a lot to me.”

“Good,” y/n replied, her tone soft. “Now, let’s see you do something cool with it.”

Chris grinned. “Alright, alright. Watch this.” He grabbed the board again and took off down the path.

y/n watched him go, a small smile on her face. Yeah, maybe it was just a board to everyone else, but to them—it was more.

And sometimes, the little things were all it took.

[projectstatic]

Ever since Harley was a child, he had only known two types of love. Conditional and silence.

His parents taught him both of these well. If he didn’t go above and beyond in everything, he would be silently scorned. Looks of quiet hatred and disappointment were the responses he came to expect…

That is until he met Elliot Ludwig. Elliot showed him genuine love and care, teaching him how to feel loved, even if me made a mistake…

Then Elliot was gone, a note and a short apology, and the sun was gone. Back to scrounging for scraps… he was used to it at this point. This fact didn’t make him less bitter, though.

That was when Leith entered his life, shining like a blinding spotlight in his eyes. Building him up, praising his genius and scientific achievements in a way no one else ever had.

Leith made him feel like a god, and that’s what Leith wanted. He gave him everything he ever wanted, so that when he would take it away, it would feel like agony. Leith knew how Harley ticked, often times better than Harley himself did. He knew exactly what to say to leave Harley a wreck if he didn’t meet expectations.

‘Surely this is what he deserved’ Harley would reason ‘Leith means well, I just need to do better!’

Being a god was only so fun when he was doing it alone… it was always more enjoyable with Leith by his side.

[hellspawnmotel]

I feel people gloss over spmaton actions because they he genuinely cares about Kris but then you play snowgrave and he obviously doesn't gaf AT ALL and gives us a ring that somehow conveniently allow Noelle to use a deadly spell people say he is insane but he is sane enough plan that Noelle killing and freezing the other citizens will distract queen and then he could take over her the castle besides the shit he says about Noelle he also says about kris and Noelle "you have been making (hyperlink blocked),havent you?" And since hyperlink blocked is probably LOVE..

It seems to me it is less of him caring about Kris and more of he is projecting into Kris whenever it is convenient for him and toss Kris aside when he doesn't them anymore or try to absorb their soul

hmm, something like that! the way I see things, I think spamton DOES care about kris and noelle, genuinely, but he's also the sort of person who's willing to use even those he cares about in any way necessary to further his own goals. that's just business, baby. at the same time though, spamton is pretty much just projecting heavily onto kris and he doesn't seem particularly in-tune with them as a person, he just sees a commonality in their situation.

as for noelle, I think what spamton said about her in the sweepstakes is enough to prove he really does care for her. buuuuuuut everything else is also true at the same time. with regards to the way spamton talks about noelle, there's a bit of ambiguity where it's not clear how much of his language is due to his glitching and how much comes straight from him being a sleazy businessman. it's almost like he doesn't have words in his roster to describe noelle, or probably any woman, that aren't sexist. it's probably something he doesn't even think about.

(an aside- personally I think [hyperlink blocked] doesn't have just one meaning, and it's meant to stand in for the concept of something powerful or unattainable. that said, the way spamton phrases "NO, I GET IT! IT'S YOU AND THAT [Hochi Mama]! YOU'VE BEEN [Making], HAVEN'T YOU! YOU'VE BEEN MAKING [Hyperlink Blocked]!" is definitely supposed to lead the player's mind towards "making love", and the phrases spamton uses to refer to noelle definitely have..... implications. again there's nuance there though- I don't think spamton himself sees noelle, a teenage girl, as a sex object. but in the eyes of advertising, especially advertising to men, which seems to be spamton's repertoire, that's all she can amount to.)

[mrssancho]

https://www.tumblr.com/mrssancho/776725216435044352/judeth-cant-take-criticism-man-the-beard-the

Spill your thoughts girl👀

I had a long conversation with one of my mutuals about him:

1. Jude is highly insecure. I mean he admitted to spending a lot of time reading what people say about him online so there’s no way it doesn’t affect him. I genuinely believe he hates himself.

2. He’s a hypocrite. He cries racism when it happens to him but turns around and dates a woman who imitates black women. We all know black fishers disrespect black women. This whole situation has also shown me that he doesn’t respect his mom. How can you bring a women like that to your family? And not consider the fact that your mom could be clowned for your behaviour?

3. He’s spoiled which has lead to a prideful mindset. This is the main reason why he doubles down on everything he’s criticised for. I’m convinced he thinks that everything he does is the best thing possible and then when he sees people clown him, instead of retracting, he continues.

Anyways this is all my opinion! 😭 agree, disagree, just don’t get mad at me - BARS

Ok I’m done.

[serenityluvz]

𝗘𝗻𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗛𝗲 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆

⋆𐙚₊˚ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸᴸᵘᵛᶻ

Heeseung – “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

The moment he realizes, he feels sick. Heeseung never forgets important dates, but he’s been so caught up with schedules that the day just… slipped his mind. When he sees your disappointed expression, his heart shatters. "Baby… please tell me I didn’t actually forget." You don’t say anything. His stomach drops. "Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair, pacing. "I swear, I didn’t mean to, Y/N. I feel like the worst boyfriend ever." That night, he goes all out—surprising you with a romantic setup, heartfelt apologies, and plenty of cuddles. "I know I messed up, but let me make it up to you, okay? Starting now, your birthday is a week-long celebration." And he means it.

Jay – “Shit… Y/N, I—”

Jay realizes it too late. He’s casually scrolling through his phone when he sees the date—and his heart stops. "No. No, no, no." He looks at you, but you’re already cold, your usual warmth missing. "Fuck, baby, I—" He reaches for you, but you step back. "Just… don’t," you mutter. He hates himself for this. He spends the next hours desperately trying to fix it—getting your favorite cake, a handwritten letter, and the biggest bouquet he can find. When he finally sees you again, his voice is soft. "I don’t deserve you, but please, let me make this right."

Jake – “Wait… today is the… oh my God.”

Jake is so sure that your birthday is tomorrow—until he hears someone casually mention the date, and suddenly, he’s frozen in panic. "No, no, NO—" He spins to find you, praying you’ll laugh and say it’s fine—but the disappointment in your eyes? It kills him. "Y/N, please, I swear I thought it was tomorrow—" He’s so genuinely devastated that you almost feel bad. That night, he showers you with endless affection, apologizing a thousand times. "I’m an idiot, but I’m your idiot," he pouts. "Let me make it up to you?" And when you finally smile, he tackles you in a hug, refusing to let go.

Sunghoon – “I… I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

Sunghoon doesn’t realize it until way too late. The moment he does, his whole body goes cold. He sees you sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone, not even looking at him. "Y/N…" he starts, voice hesitant. You don’t answer. He swallows hard, stepping closer. "Baby, I—"

"Don’t," you mumble. "Just don’t, Hoon." And that? It wrecks him. He doesn’t know what to say—he’s never felt so fucking awful. The next day, he surprises you with a huge apology, making sure you know how much he loves you. "I’ll spend every day making up for this. I swear."

Jungwon – “Please don’t be mad… I feel terrible.”

Jungwon realizes the second he sees the way you’re acting—quiet, distant, avoiding his gaze. "Baby… what’s wrong?" When you don’t answer, it hits him. "Oh my God… your birthday." He instantly feels sick. "Y/N, I—fuck, I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry." You stay quiet, and it kills him. That night, he does everything he can to make you smile again—cooking your favorite meal, writing you a heartfelt letter, pulling you into his arms. "I’ll never, ever forget again. Please, let me make it up to you." And when you finally hug him back, he swears to remember forever.

Sunoo – “I deserve the silent treatment for this, don’t I?”

Sunoo is so confident that he’s got everything under control—until he realizes he completely forgot. The moment he sees the sad look in your eyes, his stomach drops. "Oh, no. Oh, no no no—" He rushes to you, hands on your shoulders. "Baby. Please tell me I didn’t forget your birthday." You don’t answer. "Fuck, I did." He groans, pulling you into a tight hug. "I’m the worst, Y/N. You can ignore me for the next 24 hours—I deserve it." But of course, he doesn’t let you ignore him. The next day, he showers you with affection, gifts, and so many apologies. "I love you. And next year? I’m making sure this is the best birthday ever."

Ni-ki – “...Can I fix this?”

Ni-ki freezes when he realizes. He knows he messed up, but when he sees how upset you are, he feels completely lost. "Y/N… I forgot, didn’t I?" You nod, looking away. His heart sinks. "Shit." He hesitates before reaching for your hand. "I don’t know what to say except… I’m so sorry. Can I fix this?" He spends the entire day making it up to you—playing your favorite games, taking you out, holding your hand extra tight. By the end of the night, he whispers, "I’m never forgetting again. I promise." And you know he means it.

[hvnsinureyes]

𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊. . . | luka dončić

summary | basically a bunch of headcanons abt luka n what he’d do in your relationship <3

warnings | sfw & nsfw hcs— nsfw hcs mention breeding, oral, etc.

author’s note | happy birthday luka! wrote this instead of doing my homework, so proud of me!

luka who . . . loves seeing you wear his number. whether it’s on the back of a jersey, a dainty charm on your bracelet or necklace, whatever it is— it makes his heart practically stop. although he loves his privacy, it’s a subtle way of letting everyone know, “that’s my girl, no one else's.” 

luka who . . . is completely different to the beast he is on the court. as soon as he gets home, he turns into the softest baby you’ve seen. he goes from screaming at refs about their bullshit calls, talking crazy shit on the court, to melting in your arms the second he gets home from the arena. he doesn’t say much, simply mumbling, “i missed you”. i know in my heart that he’s the type to be knocked out the second he gets comfortable (seriously, you have pictures of him sleeping in the most unconventional places..) also, he constantly gives you kisses. he barely goes 5 minutes without saying ‘i love you’.

luka who . . . has a hand on you at all times. there’s a bunch of pictures of him out with you, hand on your hip (sometimes dangerously close to your ass), walking together hand in hand, and it’s worse when you’re at home. he’d probably hold your foot or something just because. 

luka who . . . loves yapping to you about anything. he’s probably given you 1 hour lectures about his cars and the mechanics of them, but honestly, you let him because everytime he does, he looks cute when he starts getting excited about whatever he's talking about. and if you start yapping to him about anything, mans is sat. attentive and actively listening to the point where he stares into your soul. not one detail is ignored!! loves you sm that everything you say means the world to him.

which brings us to, luka who . . . does anything you ask. you could tell him to jump and he’d ask, “how high?” he’s a natural born giver (in bed too...) and isn’t ashamed of it. people may call him a simp, but he just sees it as making sure his baby stays happy. plus, it's worth it because he gets to spend more time with you. i think since he's often gone for games, he really tries to make it up as best as he can, especially during the off season. i wouldn’t be surprised if he puts stuff really high or tightens jars just so you can ask him to do it. 

luka who . . . doesn’t forget a single thing you tell him. it doesn’t matter if its your favorite show, singer, or the name of a random teddy bear you had when you were 10, he will always remember. to him, everything about you is important. he basically sees it as his duty to make sure you’re loved and taken care of, and remembering things that make you who you are in the first place is one of the ways he does that. so if he ends up gifting you something you barely mentioned like three months ago, do not be surprised. 

luka who . . . does not play about you. he gets so protective sometimes it’s genuinely ridiculous. if you give one of his dogs more attention than he does, he’ll be so pouty for the rest of the day, saying stuff like “do you not love me anymore?” as a joke just to piss you off. but in more serious situations, he’s very quick to act. if he sees some paparazzi getting all up in your personal space, he is not afraid to shove someone away. somebody talking shit about you around him? he won’t hesitate to defend you.

luka who . . . constantly lets you know that he loves you. he really has no limits— he shows it through words, actions, gifts, etc. like when he tries to cook dinner after a rough day (doesn’t taste…the best, but he tries!), hyping you up as you get ready, posting you on instagram constantly, mentioning you whenever he can during interviews, getting you the most thoughtful gifts ever. his love truly knows no bounds. 

luka who . . . gets hard no matter what you do. seriously, it’s insane. you could simply look at him and he’s up and ready to go. you say it’s because he must be really whipped for you, and he agrees every time. 

luka who . . . cannot finish sex without having you cum on his tongue at least once. yeah, it’s nice when you do it on his cock, but being able to taste you is an even better feeling. he probably keeps his stubble so you're extra overstimulated while he's going down on you. he’s addicted to your taste and hearing you moan and whine is like a song he never gets sick of.

luka who . . . loves a bit of pain. nothing too crazy, but feeling your nails dig into his back is heavenly. or if you tug on his hair? oh, he’ll get so loud, you practically have to gag him so he shuts up. (hint: he also likes that. more than he should.)

luka who . . . who loves talking dirty in slovenian. he really takes it up a notch, saying the filthiest shit ever in your ear, knowing you won't understand. don't be fooled though, he's not scared to say it in english either. he'll say stuff like:

"come on, one more time,"

"fuck, take it all. i know you can,"

"look at this pretty fucking pussy. all nice and wet for me, hm?"

"awww, you missed me didn't you? no wonder why you're soaked."

luka who . . . has a serious breeding fixation. he doesn’t mind cumming anywhere else, but if you give him the go ahead to finish inside? he’ll bust in minutes. he’s so possessive that he’ll do whatever to mark you as his. but creampies are his favorite to give because you’re so warm and inviting, and don’t even let him watch it leak out. it’s even worse when you say, “gimmie a baby, luka,” or “please, make me a mommy,” because how could he ever say no? 

luka who . . . has probably taken pictures/videos of y’all while having sex. you don’t mind, because you know he’d rather die than ever let anyone else see. he respects you too much to ever do that without your permission. he mainly keeps it in a private folder to use whenever he’s at away games or when you’re gone. his favorite video is you taking backshots from him, mainly because your ass looks gorgeous taking him, and you’re always a mess by the end of it. that, and when you’re marked up with his cum, smiling with teasing eyes. god, he really can’t get enough of it.

luka who . . . always gives you aftercare. as an athlete, he knows more than anyone that a body needs to recover after any kind physical activity. he never forgets to run you a bath, clean you up, and most importantly— make sure you know you’re loved. expect cuddles and kisses hours after sex.

[mangionebabymama]

A bit off topic but I wanted to say this: I find intelligence so sexy, Luigi is not only physically attractive but also he’s very intelligent and educated c: I just thought of this because last night I was speaking with one of my classmates and we talked about politics and he did not know the difference between left and right, we’re in our junior year in college jajaj I got an immediate ick

All of this. I'll admit—the first time I ever saw the two photos of him when it was announced that he was named as the suspect (the one of him hiking in Hawaii and he's ripped and then the photo of him in the suit), I thought he was quite nice-looking. I say this because I'm not someone who, when I see the opposite gender, immediately decides if I am attracted to them or not. It's not always the case, but he caught my eye.

But then once I started diving deeper into more about his digital footprint, including his Reddit posts and even some of his GoodReads reviews, and even some of the things that he retweeted about on his Twitter—I know at the end of the day, people may call me parasocial or just a simp but, when I say this, I genuinely mean that I would love to sit down and talk to him about life, like anything. About his major, why he went into comp sci, the struggles of being an honors student/good student and still struggling with maintaining grades and having identity crises, us growing up in the same metro area of DC and Maryland, travelling, the complexity of intelligence and all the different forms. For me, I admire his intelligence so much because he seems to be the type of person with whom you could really talk about anything and everything and have a substantial conversation; it appears that he knows how to engage in conservation with people and talk to not only talk, but to learn from another person, too. I may be just an old soul, as I've been told this all my life, but I feel that even being Gen Z, sometimes, I have a hard time relating and speaking with people around my age by having experiences and being "older" beyond my years. But knowing he's literally around my age (he's three years older) and constantly loves to learn more about new things and seems quite interested in a wide variety of things?????? I'm WHIPPED

But, bestie, I would be getting the super ick, too, my god

[jackiespurnell]

what about you whats ur yj character rankings?

okayyy so this is gonna be an interesting one just a friendly reminder i love ALL of them and they went through so so so much and they all deserve so much better <333 no hate pls !! (spoilers for s3e4 btw)

im gonna do in description stuff for the top three only because i have to go :<

jackie, my babygirlie, my wet pathetic meow meow comphet lesbian. idk what to say. shes so tragic and i miss her sm. i think what kills me the most about her is how optimistic she was from the start that everything would be okay and that they'd all make it and how by the end she just lost all of her motivation. she started off with the most life in her, and left with the least. all she ever really wanted was to be loved, yet she left the earth thinking everybody hated her. also anyone who says shes a mean girl square up cause she was just oblivious, okay? she wasnt purposely bossy!!! leave her alone!!! but yeah shes my baby i miss her

misty. look, i know a lot of ppl dislike her for obvious reasons but i dont care shes my shayla!!! she just wanted attention, okay??? similar to jackie, she truly just had the best intentions but kinda ended up screwing people over. tbh i cant explain why i love misty sm but i just do. she makes me cry so much, like, she tried so so hard and while yes she is insanely offputting and concerning and scary, she was just a kid, okay?? also, when shauna was yelling at misty in the car in adult timeline saying how something fucked her up as a kid (paraphrasing) i know she said it to be mean, but i think its true. i think maybe she has some sorta disorder or her parents were absent or smth. idk, but my shyala deserves better idc

lottie. my babys dead!!!! yall killed her!!!! i just sat there in shock when she died for a good five mins then started crying cause fym shes dead??? sure, she technically caused travis' death and probably akilah's too if she dies but she never had any bad intentions!!! she just wanted to help

this is really interesting actually cause my top three are basically all girls who wanted to help so much that they ended up fucking people over.

4. nat. my shayla did nothing wrong she was so god and so pure to the point where it makes me sick. its not her fault she was stuck in a bad situation she deserved the whole world idc

5. taissa. tbh at first i was kinda anti-taissa just cause of when she was getting all pissy about shauna playing w jackies corpse but i was sooo wrong!!! tai is SUCH a good friend and genuinely just such a good person i love her

6. van. look im not anti van i mean sometimes she pisses me off lowk but im more nuetral than anything when it comes to her like sorry i dont have any real opinions on her lmao but she is funny ill give her that

7. shauna. look i really really wanna love shauna sm because my girl went thru soooo so much and she really is such a kind soul but just. she pisses me off and i wish she didnt. but as much as i love her i just cannot support her 90% of the time. like girl needs to stfu (but i love her still)

[slytherin-princess-x]

What is this feeling?

Theodore nott x yn

Full fluff and a very sad Theo

The entire day had been a disaster. Snape had docked me points for "lack of focus," Flitwick had nearly sent me flying across the Charms classroom with a particularly vehement swish and flick gone wrong, and even Herbology, usually my sanctuary, had turned against me when a Mandrake decided to latch onto my ear.

And then there was Mattheo. We'd argued over something stupid, some Slytherin power play involving a first year and a misplaced quill. He'd accused me of being soft, of losing my edge. The words stung more than they should, especially coming from him, and a bitter retort had flown out of my mouth before I could stop it. Now, we weren't speaking.

I'd been trained, practically since birth, to bury anything resembling emotion. My father had drilled it into me: sadness was weakness, vulnerability a liability. Suck it up. Move on. So, I wasn't moping. I certainly wasn't. I was simply… navigating the castle, aimlessly drifting from corridor to corridor.

All I wanted was Y/N. I just wanted to be near her, to breathe in her scent, to feel the calming press of her hand on my arm. She had a way of smoothing the sharp edges of my soul, of silencing the constant, critical voice in my head.

I'd wandered up to the Slytherin girls' dorms, hoping to find her. But the room was empty, the air filled with the faint scent of her perfume. Disappointment, a sharp, unwelcome pang, shot through me. I’d thought she’d be here.

Instead of leaving I just stared at her bed, at the soft green throw she always kept draped across it. The exhaustion, both physical and emotional, suddenly hit me like a physical blow. Without another thought, I sank onto the bed, Y/N's scent enveloping me. It was a small comfort, a tiny lifeline in this swirling vortex of a day.

I didn't mean to fall asleep. I really didn't. But the day had taken its toll, and the soft mattress and the familiar scent lulled me into a state of semi-consciousness. The last thing I remember was thinking about how much I missed her laugh.

I woke up with a start, my face pressed into a pillow. My eyes felt gritty, my head heavy. Something felt… wrong.

Then I realized. My cheeks were damp. Tears. I had been crying. Bloody hell.

I scrambled to sit up, mortified. What if someone saw me? What if Mattheo walked in? The thought of him seeing me like this, vulnerable and broken, made my stomach churn. I brushed frantically at my face, trying to wipe away any trace of my weakness.

The door opened.

Y/N.

Her eyes widened in surprise, then softened as they focused on my face. She didn't say anything. Didn't ask what was wrong, didn't offer a platitude or a forced smile. She just closed the distance between us, her arms wrapping around me in a tight, grounding embrace.

And then, the dam broke.

I hadn't realized how tightly I'd been holding everything in, how desperately I'd been trying to adhere to my father's rigid rules. But in Y/N's arms, surrounded by her warmth and her scent, the walls crumbled.

So I just let it all out. The frustration, the hurt, the anger, the bone-deep exhaustion. I sobbed, ugly, gasping sobs that shook my entire body. I buried my face in her shoulder, ashamed and yet somehow… relieved.

She didn't say a word. Just held me tighter, rocking me gently back and forth. Her hand stroked my hair, whispering soothing patterns against my scalp.

"It's okay, Theo," she murmured finally, her voice soft and low. "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

Her words, so simple, so genuine, were like a balm to my raw and wounded soul. I clung to her, drawing strength from her unwavering presence, from the unconditional love that shone in her eyes.

I knew, logically, that my father would disapprove. That Mattheo would see this as a weakness. But in that moment, none of that mattered. In Y/N's arms, I wasn't Theodore Nott, the heir to a pureblood dynasty. I was just Theo, a boy who was allowed to feel, to be vulnerable, to lean on someone for support. And for the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

Taglist: @yootvi @smut-anarchy @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred

[nanaboo-pumpkaboo]

Worse,

I see it. Last night. You promised.

The car comes to a slow, the Unova Police Department logo is on the side of the vehicle. inside the vehicle is a woman, and in the back a man who even now is still smiling. "This has been a long time coming, Grimshaw. but you cannot escape the hammer of justice forever." "Mhm" The man says, looking at the road. They're nowhere near the jail he was told to be detained in, a maximum prison facility on Castellia bay, if anything they're close to Anville.

"Your friends, the ones on this" She holds up a little device, it looks like a watch.

"They have no idea, they believed every word I said, I suppose I know you quite well in order to impersonate you." She laughed for a moment, before setting the watch back down on the dashboard.

Silence, until he leans forward, body battered and right eye barely able to stay open from the injuries acquired.

"It's over, you know that right? When they try me, they'll have to do it by the book, I might get off on the injuries you've inflicted on me alone."

"It's unfortunate that you won't live to see that day."

The car comes to a complete stop and the woman steps out of the car and opens the trunk. The man in the back only has to wait for a few seconds before the car door opens and he is dragged out by the handcuffs trapping him. The night air is cold and his body is battered and bruised, he very nearly falls to his feet.

"I want the files you took, everything, I know they're here." She tosses the shovel into the mans hands, he sighs and smiles, taking a hold of the shovel and walking a few feet forward.

he wouldn't even get another word in before a bullet sent him falling forward, the chief standing behind him with the still smoking gun, she walked forward and would check his pulse before taking a few shots into her car. and reached for her radio.

You Promised

"This is Chief of Police Victoria Heralds, Code 10-98 swiped my gun and attempted to run, requesting medical aid and a body bag."

You've done everything you could, by all means You have reached the end Your end. But, perhaps that is not The worst After all. You've done everything you sought out to do. I hope you're happy. Genuinely

//Tw Epilepsy

So, if this is your end. Then why are You still here? The autopsy is complete, your heart is still, but you're still here. Why? You must Concede You cannot continue. Mr. Grimshaw. Don't speak, you do not have the capacity to do so. I will be back, Mr.Grimshaw. You are a stubborn man,you c nnot die. You promised.