#why are you handing me a phone number for a therapist?

[petalsfordany]

[kkai-zen]

˖⋆࿐໋ you're sexy, i'm sexy!

summary: how do the blue lock boys meet you and get your number and/or a first date?

featuring: [separate] gn!reader x itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku & michael kaiser

contents: anime only spoilers!! fluff!, awkward-cute rin, drunk guy tries to flirt with reader (in oliver's), cheating ex-bf (kaiser), suggestive (kaiser), sae plays for re al, kaiser plays for bastard münchen

wc: 3.2k

a/n: this one took me a while to write! i decided to try writing for oliver for the first time, so lmk if i should write more for him :) also, thank you guys so much for 100 followers! sending you all much love~ ˙⋆.˚ ��𐭩

⟢ itoshi rin...

Sees you, his new physical therapist, and almost falls in love at first sight.

Soccer is the most important thing to him, so why is it that his heart speeds up when you turn the corner?

(He swears his kick accuracy decreases when you watch him play, and it drives him crazy.)

He tries to push you out of his mind for months before even thinking about asking you for your number.

You’re wondering why Rin is sweating bullets during your latest session with him, but you think nothing of it until he gruffly asks for your number, holding out his phone. 

“Huh? You want my number?” 

You stare at him for a moment, a small smile slipping onto your lips. He nods, averting his gaze. “Oh! Sure, but- don’t you already have it?” 

Rin’s heart stops. 

“Huh?”

“...huh?”

Rin goes home that night so mortified that he can’t fall asleep.

Of course he already has your number, he curses in his head, tossing and turning in his bed. You’re his physical therapist, after all. It’d be natural to have already received your contact information from a manager or email or something of the like.

He can’t even look you in the eyes the next morning when he sees you, standing so pretty at the sidelines. Swearing as he misses a goal, ball slamming into the goalpost with a bang!, Rin catches your gaze and what’s left of his focus vanishes.

Before you know it, Rin’s striding off the field, towel slung over his shoulders. Mouth opening, you walk towards him—only for him to brush past you and disappear into the locker room. You frown.

A week goes by, and Rin is still ignoring you.

You sigh, scrolling through your phone. He’d been canceling sessions more often than not, you sulk. But at least he’s stopping by today.

“Your neck and shoulder muscles are tense,” you murmur, feeling around his upper body. Naturally, Rin stays silent, and you hesitate before saying, “Rin? Are you feeling okay? You haven’t been showing up to sessions as often, and you haven’t been…as concentrated during pra-”

He suddenly slams his hands down on the massage table he’s laying on, pushing himself up to face you, and you stumble backwards. Almost falling to the ground, you feel Rin’s muscular arm wrap around you, unexpectedly pulling you into his warm chest before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

Face flushed a bright pink, he stares into your wide eyes for a moment longer before promptly dropping his arm from your waist and speeding towards the door. “H-hey, Rin- wait!” You call after him, heart pounding in your ears, but he doesn’t stop. Chasing him down the hallway, you finally catch up to him, out of breath as you step in front of his broad body. 

Rin’s face is still bright pink. “Get out of the wa- mmpf!”

His eyes widen as you grab his cheeks, pulling his lips onto yours forcefully, kissing him until he’s out of breath. By the time you pull away, you’re both flushed, panting, and staring at each other with twin looks of nervousness. Rin forces his eyes away before mumbling a quiet,

“Saturday. I’ll pick you up at 7.” 

⟢ itoshi sae...

Sees you in the crowd during one of his games, wearing a jersey for the rival team.

You’re far too pretty to be cheering for those half-baked losers, he thinks, when the game ends 4-1.

(obviously Sae’s team, Re Al, wins.)

He finds you after the game, sulking at your team’s loss while waiting for one of your friends in the bathroom.

Sighing, you turn your head away from the large TV screens replaying highlights from the earlier game. You can’t believe Re Al won that hard against your team, you sulk. But you have to admit, some of the plays made by Re Al’s midfielder were incredible. What was that guy’s name again? Sei? No, it was-

“My name’s Itoshi Sae. Could I get your number?”

You look up from the floor to the calm voice, and you have to clench your jaw to keep it from dropping open. Re Al’s genius, pink-haired (very handsome, you decide) midfielder is standing right in front of you, phone held out. 

You stare at him for a moment longer before stammering out a “S-sure!” and taking his phone, typing your number into the contact information page and handing it back to him. He’s about to turn away, but before he can, you blurt out, “You made some amazing plays this game.”

Sae stops, teal gaze meeting yours with a certain intensity. Of course I did, he almost says, but stops himself last minute. “Thank you,” he utters instead. “But I can’t help but notice you’re a fan of the other team,” he continues, eyeing your jersey. 

You hesitate, turning a little pink. “I mean- yeah, I guess so…” you mumble reluctantly. “But y’know, I can still recognize and appreciate other good players.” You fidget with the hem of your jersey, blush steadily creeping over your face as Sae’s unwavering stare bores into you. 

You suddenly feel something warm settle over your shoulders, and you’re shocked to find Sae’s Re Al jacket draping over your figure. “Wear this to the next Re Al game,” Sae murmurs, fingers brushing across the fabric. “The next Re Al game? The one in France?” You say in disbelief. “Mhm,” he responds casually. “I’ll fly you out, if you want.” 

“I-I mean, sure, I’d be honored, but-” you begin, dumbfounded, but he’s tapping away at his phone already. “I’ll text my manager about it then,” Sae affirms, speaking in a matter-of-fact voice that left no room for argument. “Sure thing!” You force a smile over your shocked face. 

You’re sure nothing he can do will surprise you at this point—asking for your number, giving you his jacket, offering to fly you out to France, of all places.

But when he leans forward, breath hot against the shell of your ear whispering, “See you soon, gorgeous,” before walking away, your heart nearly bursts out of your chest. You manage a weak wave, eyes wide, slumping over against the wall in a red-faced daze when your friend walks out of the bathroom. 

“Hey, I just remembered! There was that one really hot midfielder- huh? What happened?!” 

⟢ nagi seishiro...

Runs into you in the manga section at a bookstore Reo dragged him to.

He notices you, standing on your tippy-toes trying to reach a volume on the top shelf.

He thinks that you’re so cute!

Usually wouldn't have done anything to help (since it’d be a hassle), but he notices you’re reaching for a volume of Bonobono, his favorite manga series that he also happens to be looking for...

You huff, hands on your hips, staring up at the final volume of Bonobono sitting on the top layer of the shelf. After two failed attempts, you’re still determined to get it, stretching out your arms in anticipation for your next try. But before you can reach up again, a lean, lengthy arm is reaching up to pluck it off the shelf with ease.

Huh? Spinning around, you come face-to-face with a broad chest, almost slamming into it.

Stumbling backwards into the bookshelf, you stare up into the stranger’s gray eyes. He’s cute, you think, blinking up at him. But when he vanishes with the final volume of Bonobono in hand, you’re fuming.

“H-hey! Come back!” You dart after him, following the head of fluffy white hair through the bookshelves.

When you finally catch up to him, out of breath, you point an accusing finger at him. “I was gonna get that!” You say with indignation, eyebrows furrowed. “So? I got it first,” he responds lazily. 

“Wha- shouldn’t you at least offer to give it back? You knew I was reaching for it!”

“…I still got it first though.”

“You-!”

Making a jump for the volume in his hand, your fingertips brush the corner of the book that he quickly pulls out of your reach. But rather than landing gracefully back on your feet, you land right on top of his feet. 

With a yelp, you grab onto the front of his hoodie to balance yourself but end up toppling backwards, crashing into the bookshelf behind you, pulling the white-haired stranger along. 

“Ugh…” you groan, eyes squeezed shut and head spinning. “Why couldn’t you have just given me the volume…” You feel a heavy weight on your body, peeking your eyes open to see the stranger pressed flush against you, face inches away from your own. 

“I told you, it’s mine.” 

Something about the way he says it sends shivers down your spine, and fortunately unfortunately, it reminds you of how handsome the stranger really is. “You got us in this position, so shouldn’t you do something to fix it?” He murmurs, edging his face ever so slightly closer to yours. The intimate proximity steals your breath away, and you feel your face burning with heat. “Uh-”

But he suddenly pulls away, and your heart throbs when the weight of his body dissipates. He turns around and you’re worried that he might run off again, but he fiddles with the volume of Bonobono before handing it to you. 

“See ya round, cutie.” 

You gape at him as he walks away, completely stupefied. You’ll never see that handsome stranger again, you think, and you can’t help the disappointment that sparks in the pit of your stomach. 

But when you crack open the cover and see a phone number scrawled messily on the first page, you can’t help the smile that peeks out on the corners of your lips.

⟢ mikage reo...

Meets you after you spill a cup of coffee on his shirt when you’re speeding to work.

Apologizing profusely, you grab handfuls of napkins and stuff them into his hands before racing off.

Reo is instantly charmed, thinking you’re so cute with your blushing face and flustered demeanor.

He comes back to the cafe every single morning for a week straight, searching for you. 

Almost gives up hope when, on a Friday morning…

What am I doing…Reo stifles a yawn. He’d been chasing after you since the fateful day you quite literally ran into him, hooked on finding out who you are. And now, here he is, sitting in a cafe at 7 AM hoping that you’ll magically stroll through the door-

Ding-ding!

The bell hanging at the door jingles when you walk in, every bit as beautiful as he remembers. Gawking at you for a moment as you order (a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, he mentally notes), Reo can barely believe you’re standing right there before he leaps up, strolling towards you with an unhurried confidence.

You seem to be in a lot less of a rush this time around, waiting patiently for the barista to finish making your order as you check the time on your phone. 

“Excuse me?”

You look up, and Reo can feel his cheeks flush the faintest pink when he meets your gaze.  Before he can continue, your eyes light up with recognition. “Oh! You’re the guy I ran into last week!” You exclaim, embarrassment rushing to your face. “I’m so sorry about that…” you apologize profusely. 

“Ah, no worries, I wasn’t going anywhere important anyways,” he replies with a laugh. “Could I maybe buy you a drink, to make up for it?” You offer, and he chuckles. “No need, I don’t drink coffee.”

Cocking your head, you fix him with a look of confusion.

“You- don’t drink coffee?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh- then, what do you usually order here?” 

“Nothing.”

“Oh…um, do you just like the environment?”

“It’s not bad, I suppose.”

“A-ah, I see…”

You laugh nervously. “Are you wondering why I come here, then?” He asks, mirroring the tilt of your head. “Yeah, guess so,” you mumble, fidgeting with the sleeve of your top.

“Well, the simple answer is you.” 

Huh? You freeze. Is he messing around? Almost laughing, you stop yourself only when you see the seriousness in his eyes. “I- I’m sorry?” You stammer out.

“I come here for you. I’ve wanted to talk to you since the day we ran into each other.” Reo says casually, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I wanted to ask if I could get your number, and maybe buy you a coffee sometime.” And he holds his phone out to you.

Blushing furiously, you take the phone with trembling fingers, entering your phone number and name into his contacts. “Yeah, that sounds great!” You manage, breathless. “Perfect. See you soon, then.” He beams at you and your heart melts in your chest.

“Yeah, see you soon!”

⟢ oliver aiku...

Sees you at the club, sittin’ pretty next to some creep who won’t stop bothering you for your number.

He’d been eyeing you for a while now, nursing a drink while sitting next to his rowdy teammates.

Decides to intervene when the drunk tries to put his hands on you.

Buys you a drink after the creep leaves, and strikes up a flirty nice conversation with you.

For some odd reason, he’s getting nervous talking to you...

“C’mon beautiful, just gimme your number,” the creep next to you belches, toothy grin widening. Wrinkling your nose, you lean away, the smell of alcohol on his breath burning your nose. “Uh- no thanks.” you mutter, disgusted at the guy. “Hey now- I’m a great guy!” He chortles drunkenly, and with a terrifying amount of audacity, suddenly reaches over to grab your arm.

“What the fu-?!” Snatching your arm back, you glare daggers at the guy who’s babbling on and on about bringing you back to his apartment. But before you can slap the guy—who’s now reaching for your thigh—a strong, broad hand grabs his wrist in a vice grip.

“You heard the lady. Get outta here, man.” 

You bring your attention to the deep voice, taken aback by the shiny heterochromatic eyes you see. 

“Hey, this isn’t your busi- urk!” The creep yelps as the stranger seizes the collar of his shirt, dragging him out of his seat. “I said, get lost.” He repeats coldly, pushing the drunkard backwards, who—with a squeak—promptly scurries away. Finally relaxing with a sigh, you readjust your top before turning to the stranger. 

“Thank you so much for dealing with that,” you say with relief. “No problem,” he smiles at you. “My name’s Oliver. Mind if I buy you a drink?” You huff out a laugh. “Please do.”

He takes the spot next to you, and suddenly, you don’t mind the proximity of the seat. “So, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ out here all alone?” He asks smoothly, leaning forward. You raise an eyebrow. “Do you usually use cheesy one liners to pick up girls?” You reply with a snort, taking a sip of the drink he ordered you. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to get into my pants like the last guy.”

He stares at you for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Man, what a response,” he grins. “Can’t lie, that’s what I was going for. But now you’ve got me thinkin’ otherwise.”

“Thinking otherwise?”

“Yup.”

“...about what?”

“About how much I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

You pause. Eyes skimming over his figure, you realize how attractive Oliver actually is; tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular underneath his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, he’s exactly your type. 

You look into his eyes, tilting your head, before giving Oliver a smile that has his heart thumping strangely loud in his chest. “Hm. Buy me another drink, and then we can talk,” you say slyly, and he laughs again. “Whatever you want, pretty.”

And when you’re having easy conversion with Oliver over your umpteenth drink, you slip him your number written neatly on a napkin. 

“Bring me somewhere nice, ‘kay?” 

“Like I said, whatever you want, angel.” 

⟢ michael kaiser...

Notices you in the lounge of the fancy hotel he’s staying at, where you explain that you're trying to catch your boyfriend cheating.

Thinks you’re being ridiculous until some bonehead walks out of the elevator with a girl on his arm.

Part of him is glad you caught the cheating prick just so he could ask for your number.

You’re way too pretty for that guy, anyways.

(The girl on his arm is ogling Kaiser, too, just to add the cherry on top).

Blowing a strand of hair out of your face, you tap your foot impatiently waiting for your boyfriend—well, about-to-be-ex-boyfriend—who had apparently forgotten to turn off his location tonight. You already had suspicions that he’d been cheating on you for some time, and tonight is the night you decide to end things with that scumbag. 

You’re standing, staring at the elevator so intently that you don’t even notice the blonde-and-blue haired man sitting behind you with narrowed eyes.  “What on Earth are you waiting for?” He sighs to you, rubbing his temples. “The tapping of your foot is bothersome.” 

You turn, frowning. “Waiting for my cheating, soon-to-be-ex boyfriend to come out of the elevator.” 

“Seriously?” Kaiser is baffled. Firstly, you’re far too pretty for someone to cheat on you, he thinks. But secondly— “Why would you waste your time on the guy? Just break up and move on. Besides, what if he’s not even here?”

But suddenly, you both hear a ding!, and the elevator doors glide open to reveal your shitty (now ex-) boyfriend prancing out of the elevator, with some disheveled, barely dressed girl on his arm.

“Huh? Babe? What are you doing here?” Your ex gapes at you, suddenly snatching his arm away from the girl’s body. You scoff. “What are you doing here?” You spit back, eyes flicking between him and the girl. 

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I promise!” He swears, walking towards you. “Look, I-”

“Man, just shut up.”

Kaiser’s voice is cold, slicing right through his words. You hadn’t realized that he’d stood up right behind you until he slides a lean arm around your waist, tilting his head at your baffled ex. “Why does he look so surprised, my love?” He murmurs to you, just loud enough for your ex to hear. “You didn’t tell him that we’re together?”

You blink up into his cool blue eyes, swallowing with a dry throat. “I- I guess not,” you mumble. “Mm. I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson when we get back to our room, sweetheart.” He smirks, and you flush red with the implication. 

“W-wait! Are you- Michael Kaiser? That famous soccer player from Bastard München?” The girl next to your ex gasps, eyes wide. Kaiser’s smirk only grows wider. “I am.”

Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my-! Can I- get your autograph? And, um- ” A smile toys at her lips. “Maybe, I could get your number, too?” She twirls a strand of hair between her fingers, batting her lashes at him. You nearly burst out laughing at her audacity.

Your ex’s jaw drops open. “Wha- but- you- ” he stutters at her, and Michael only offers a bare smile. “I’m already taken.” He squeezes your waist tighter, guiding you into the elevator. “Let’s go, angel.”

Puzzled, you let him walk you into the elevator, and as soon as the doors close, you expect him to pull his arm away—but he doesn’t. 

“Now, ready to learn your lesson, sweetheart?”

[harunayuuka2060]

Cater: MC-chan?! Why are you here?!

MC: I'm your therapist, motherfucker.

Cater: No way... You were not here last time!

MC: He quit. Paid me double to talk shit with you.

Cater: *sigh*

Cater: You're still going to do your job, right?

MC: Yeah, sure. Talk. Whatever.

Cater: ...

*After an hour session*

Cater: ...

Cater: You're surprisingly good at this.

MC: Uh-huh. Saving your asses back when we were teens came in handy.

Cater: *laughs* Anyway, will you still be my therapist next week?

MC: *writes their phone number on a piece of paper and hands it to him*

Cater: Hm?

MC: This fucking session is boring. Let's talk about your problems over a drink next time.

Cater: Your treat?

MC: ...

MC: What'd you say, fucker?

Cater: Hahaha! I'm just joking!

Cater: Trey-kun~ Guess who was my therapist this morning~.

Trey: Haha, who is it?

Cater: MC-chan!

Trey: ...

Trey: So... Did you get worse?

Cater: What? Huh?

Trey: *chuckles* Just kidding. I didn't know MC had a license for that.

Cater: Nope. My last therapist begged them to go in his stead.

Trey: ...

Trey: If you're satisfied, then I think it's good?

Cater: Haha!

[sofa-king-lame]

39. “I forgot I was a single parent.” ? 👀

Thank you! And thank you to everyone who sent me prompts. I will get to them over the next few days!

—

“Did you know single fathers make up only sixteen percent of single parent households?” Buck asks. Eddie nods his head but doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading, humming in agreement. He’s content just listening to the sound of Buck’s voice, especially off the back of their last call.

“That’s…not a lot,” Hen muses. “What else you got for us?”

“That number has increased 60% in the last ten years,” Buck continues. “It’s one of the fastest growing family situations in the US.”

“Huh,” Chimney hums. “I have spoken to a larger than usual number of single dads at parties we’ve been taking Jee to recently.”

“Why exactly are you looking up statistics on single dads?” Bobby asks. Buck shrugs just a little too casually and continues scrolling on his phone.

“Yeah, why not single mothers?” Eddie pipes up.

“Do you see any single mothers around here?” Buck questions.

“Do you see any single fathers?” Eddie retorts. The room goes silent, and when he looks up everyone is staring at him. Hen looks confused, Bobby raises an eyebrow at him, Chimney looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and Buck…he can’t read the expression on Buck’s face.

“Eddie…you’re a single father,” Hen reminds him gently, and…fuck. What the fuck just happened.

“Uh, right,” Eddie forces out, laughing in a way that isn’t fooling anyone. He is blessedly, wonderfully, saved by the alarm blaring.

—

Back to back calls keep them busy until shift change, and Eddie pointedly ignores the weird looks everyone throws him in the back of the engine. Everyone except Buck, who won’t look at him.

—

“So, uh. What the hell was that?” Chimney snorts, popping a fresh piece of gum in his mouth. They’re finally back at the station, Eddie has showered and is looking for Buck.

“Yeah, I’m not discussing this with you,” Eddie huffs. “Did Buck leave already?”

“Hightailed it out of here while you were showering,” Chimney sighs.

“Fantastic. Did he say where he was going?” Eddie asks. Usually Buck would follow him home where they’d cook whatever meal it was time for, eat, and pretend they weren’t falling asleep on the couch while watching a movie. If Christopher wasn’t at school he’d eat with them, ask for Buck’s help with his homework, then hole himself away in his room until it was time for bed.

“Home,” Chimney tells him, and Eddie doesn’t think twice before heading for his own house. As he suspected, Buck’s Jeep is already in the driveway with Buck sitting on the front steps.

“You know you have a key, right?” Eddie says, trying and failing to keep his tone light.

“Are you seeing someone?” Buck asks quietly, sounding…broken.

“Like a therapist?” Eddie asks back, though he knows what Buck means. Eddie hasn’t dated since the whole Kim disaster, doesn’t want to date anyone who isn’t Buck.

“Like a woman,” Buck sighs. “Are - are you dating? Because back at the station, you said…it seemed like you were saying you’re dating someone and it’s serious enough that you think of them as Christopher’s second parent. And I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Eddie assures him. “And I was thinking of you.”

“What?” Buck breathes, finally standing up. Eddie’s on the path, so on the step Buck is towering over him. It makes Eddie feel safe.

“I honestly forgot I was a single parent,” Eddie laughs, “because you’re always here for Chris.”

“Oh,” Buck murmurs. A complicated series of emotions flicker across his face, just for a fraction of a second before they’re gone and Buck is schooling his expression into something neutral. His shaking hands betray his confidence.

“And for me,” Eddie adds, joining Buck on the step. Eddie had realised minutes into knowing Buck that face to face, he was directly eye level with Buck’s mouth. It’s very distracting, especially when Eddie notices Buck’s eyes flick down his own mouth. Eddie takes the opportunity to take one of Buck’s hands and squeeze, Buck returning the grip tightly

“I mean, yeah,” Buck chuckles softly. “I always will be.”

“I love you,” Eddie confesses quietly. “I haven’t thought of myself as a single parent for a long time. Because we’ve had you.”

“You always will,” Buck whispers. “I love you too. Like, a stupid amount.”

“Good,” Eddie hums. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Okay,” Buck sighs, not even giving Eddie the chance to move before he a closing the space between them to press his lips against Eddie’s. It’s warm, it’s syrupy, it’s so very Buck, and Eddie is never letting him go.

[chaoticwriting]

Fenton Crime Family

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Stephanie: So no one is gonna ask why Cass has been out so much lately? Alone too.

Duke: Didn't she say she is going out to meet a friend?

Stephanie: Yeah, but no one knows where she goes. We don't know who she goes out with nor do we know where she goes.

Tim: Just say that you are jealous that Cass is going out without you. No will make fun of you.

Jason & Duke: That's a lie.

Tim: Yeah, that's a lie. I would totally make fun of you.

Stephanie: Shut up nerd. Don't pretend you are not jealous when Bernard or Conner says that they are hanging out with someone else.

Tim: Woah there. Jason is the nerd one. If you want to insult me, at least use the correct one.

Jason: I want to be mad but you're not wrong.

Damian: Tt, why should we bother who Cain goes out with? It is her choice who she wishes to be her companion.

Stephanie: But aren't you curious even a little bit? Who is the person? Where do they go? Are they friends or something more? There are so many questions and yet so little answer.

Bruce: We should give Cass some room for herself. Letting her form a relationship outside of this household is also good.

Everyone: *Stares at Bruce*

Jason: I think the old man is being mind controlled. Let me punch him to wake him up.

Dick: Are you sick, B? Do you want to go to Dr. Leslie? I can take over your patrol tonight if you are not feeling well.

Damian: I also agree with Todd. Father might be compromised right now. Let's take him down.

Tim: Wait wait. Do you have anything to say before we jump you Bruce?

Bruce: *Grunts* I went to meet the therapist that Jason recommended to me. Dr. Fenton says that I should give my children room to grow independently so that I can take the first step in treating my paranoia.

Jason: *Gasp* You actually went to meet the therapist. Fuck.

Stephanie: He he he, where is my 50 bucks? I told you he would go if you recommend it.

Jason: *Grumble while handing out 50 bucks*

Duke: So that's where you are going. I thought you were going on a date.

Bruce: I am too old for dating anymore.

Dick: Yeah, right. Tell that to me when you go meet Selina later tonight.

Bruce: *Grunts*

Alfred: *Walks in* I am here to inform that Miss Cassandra has returned.

Dick: She's not gonna eat lunch?

Alfred: Miss Cassandra has informed me that she has eaten outside with her friend.

Jason: Did you see who her friend is? Is it a boy or a girl? Please tell me it's a boy.

Alfred: I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything as per my agreement with Miss Cassandra. What I can tell you though is that she is very happy to meet her friend. I suggest all of you don't disturb her happiness.

Stephanie: What? Boooo. I want answers. Timothy I choose you. Go find the answer using your stalker skills.

Tim: I would rather not anger her after what she did last time. All of my coffee mugs are still stuck on the table.

Duke: *Scoffs* You would probably go behind her back to find this friend anyway. You're just saying it in case Cass heard us.

Tim: I shall not confirm nor deny the accusation.

-Upstairs-

Cass lays on her bed after changing her clothes. It's been so long since she saw Danny. If not for the coincidental encounter at the stores, she wouldn't have known that Danny is in Gotham. After the first encounter, they exchanged phone numbers and talks and even met up often. Today is their first official date as a girlfriend/boyfriend.

Cass takes her phone to text Danny that she has reached home safely when she suddenly remembers something. She opens her gallery and puts the photos of her and Danny in a secure secret folder so that no one can find it.

While doing that, a text comes through.

Danny 💕💓💕

Danny: Hey Cass, are you home yet?

Cass: Yes. I just got home.

Danny: Thanks for the date today

Cass: 💖💖

Cass: Are you home yet?

Danny: Almost

Danny: Sorry gotta go. My sister is calling.

Cass: Get home fast. Love you 😘

Danny: I love you too 💖

Cass puts the phone on the bed and closes her eyes. Soon, she falls asleep and dreams of living in a large house with a lot of children running around.

-The Bowery, Gotham-

A young skinny man with black hair and blue eyes is walking down the quite alley slowly. He looks around him as the people of the Bowery look almost respectful but certainly fearful to him.

He sighs and leaves the sprawled bodies on the ground. They wouldn't die. He makes sure of that. A huge man comes within his proximity when suddenly the man bows down to him.

????: We are sorry, sir. These people are a new gang in the rise from the east. We get the news too late to send people to dispose of them.

Danny: Chill out, Jeff. Just take them to Dani and let her handle it. Also, tell her to return before dinner or else Jazz will come for her.

Jeff: Yes, sir.

The man along with a few of his henchmen pick the bodies and move them to somewhere else. To be honest, Jazz and Danny still don't know how to feel that their little sister is officially a crime lord.

All of them moved last month since Jazz gets her job at Arkham Asylum and Danny gets his internship at Wayne Enterprise. Dani tags along since she has explored all the places she wants to visit and she doesn't know what else to do.

Well that also didn't last long, as the first day they arrived at Gotham, Dani goes to beat up all the gang and goons in The Bowery and round them up into one single group. It's certainly easier that all the rouges are in Arkham right now.

One time the Falcon crime family tried to threaten Dani by taking Danny and Jazz hostage. In the end, Falcon and other crime families agree to stay out of The Bowery after Danny freezes all of their building and Dani strikes them with lightning multiple times.

Danny arrives home and sits on the couch. He scrolls Twitter while waiting for his sisters to return when the news catches his eyes.

Breakout at Arkham Asylum

All the people of Gotham are suggested to stay inside tonight.

Danny looks at the news with concern. Usually a breakout at Arkham happens a lot later in the day. He stands up, picks a leather jacket and a mask and then transforms into Phantom. He wears the mask and the jacket and flies towards Arkham Asylum to check out what happened. Today is Saturday so Jazz isn't working so he doesn't worry that much about Jazz.

On his way to Arkham, he encounters some rouge like The Riddler and Scarecrow. He knocks them out and hangs them on a poll and continues flying towards it. He's not a hero anymore but if the rogues are to enter and cause havoc in The Bowery, neither him, Jazz nor Ellie will be happy.

Suddenly, he sees a clown car speeding through the road at a very fast speed. Danny looks at it and sees the Joker along with his few goons are making a getaway while being chased down by a few cop cars. Danny flies down towards the clown car, and slowly unscrews the tyres of the car.

Danny flies back a little bit to the back and the clown car starts to wiggle and waggle and suddenly all of the tyres come off the car. Danny can hear the clown cursing heavily until finally they crash into a poll.He flies back down and just to make sure he is permanently down or at least down for some time, snap his back bone to incapacitate him.

Danny, still invisible, flies back up and continues on his way to Arkham. He meets a few more escapees like Mr. Freeze, Firefly and Killer Croc. Except for Killer Croc, all the other rouges are beaten up and sent back to Arkham. Killer Croc or Waylon is not thinking of causing trouble. He just wants to return to the sewer cause it is his home. Danny plans to maybe offer Waylon employment in their gang if he feels like Waylon is stable enough to work. Meanwhile, he will go around the city and beat up rogues that he is pretty sure is not going out to have a tea party.

When Danny lands on the roof, he opens his phone to see Cass is warning him to stay at home and not go outside. He smiles wryly since he is already outside and is beating up the rouges. Danny replies with a thumbs up and is about to continue flying when a shadow jumps out from behind him.

Danny: Uh, hello? How are you?

???: *Stares*

Danny: I'm no trouble. Just on the lookout just in case there is a rouge nearby. I see some guy beat up Scarecrow and The Riddler on my way here. They are not so scary when they don't have anything to use you know.

???: Where?

Danny: Errr, I think it is right over there. I was coming from that direction so you would probably see them if you go this way.

???: Thank you.

The shadow then vanishes and Danny is left standing there. The shadow really reminded him of Cass for some reason. Looking up online, apparently that one is called Black Bat.

Danny: Huh, they are out early today then. I guess they can work during the day.

Danny then turns invisible and returns back to the Bowery because most of the notorious rogues have been captured and Danny isn't worried about the rest.

Part 2

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《 Chapter 1: Alpine the Traitor. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Breaking into a stranger’s apartment wasn’t on your weekend agenda, but neither was meeting the grumpy-yet-irresistible guy who owns the couch—and the cat—that you somehow claimed as your own. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. I'm starting to feel sorry for this fanfic just sitting at the bottom of my files.🥲 Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @khaer for the divider.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

Bucky had just finished hauling up the last of his bags from the car—bags that totally did not contain guns and knives—when he remembered his phone. Cursing under his breath, he jogged back down to grab it, leaving the door ajar. He barely noticed you—leaning heavily against the hallway wall, guiding yourself as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. 

You squinted at the numbers on his door, murmuring, “Close enough,” and stumbled inside, fully convinced you’d found your friend’s place.

Inside, you called out, “Sarah?” and squinted around the room. No answer. Instead, a small, white cat trotted up, eyeing you with a mix of caution and curiosity.

“Oh,” you cooed, crouching down with all the coordination of a newborn giraffe. “Sarah… Did you turn into a cat?” You narrowed your eyes, trying to decipher the situation. “Blink twice if you did.”

Alpine regarded you with a slow, deliberate blink—just one. But that was enough for you in your current state.

“Good enough,” you muttered, and, relieved to find some familiar ��face,” you scooped her up and flopped onto the couch, pulling her onto your chest, where she curled up in a perfect loaf position. Alpine settled comfortably, purring like a tiny motor. Within moments, you’d passed out, leaving Alpine to stand guard.

When Bucky returned, he slammed the door shut, grumbling about the freezing cold. He shrugged off his coat and turned toward the kitchen, not noticing anything unusual—until he caught sight of a figure—clearly not his—was sprawled on his couch, hair fanned out over their face, Alpine loafed comfortably on their chest like this was some kind of routine.

He froze mid-step, staring in confusion. “What… the fuck?” 

Today, of all days, he’d planned to finally try that yoga routine his therapist had been nudging him about. Some deep breathing, a little stretching—it was supposed to help calm him down, give him a “reset” for the week. He’d even managed to get Sam off his ass about it, promising he’d “channel his inner Zen” or whatever the hell Sam had been calling it. But no, apparently not. He couldn’t even have a boring day without someone or something interrupting it. Why was that too much to ask?

Approaching cautiously, with a slight kick to your feet, he muttered, “Hey. Hey.”

Bucky then crouched down, pushing your hair back to get a look at your face. 

“Are you serious right now?” he muttered, folding his arms, staring at his cat as if this were somehow her fault.

Alpine responded with another blink, clearly unimpressed by Bucky’s lack of decorum. She even seemed to settle more firmly into her loaf position on top of you, as if claiming this random drunk intruder as her new, favored territory.

Bucky huffed, waving a hand at Alpine. “So you’re just… okay with this?”

Another blink. Obviously Bucky.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Unbelievable. I’m out here, feeding you, scooping your litter box, and the first stranger who walks in, you act like we’re running some kind of Airbnb for drunks?”

Alpine gave him a barely noticeable shrug and started grooming a paw as if she couldn’t be less bothered then once she’s satisfied she began kneading your wool jacket over your chest.

You mumbled something incoherent, and Alpine lifted her head, giving Bucky an irritated blink, as though he’d just disrupted her personal masseuse session. You need to be quiet.

“Oh, she’s real cozy, huh?” he muttered at Alpine, who merely blinked at him, still looking protective. Bucky scoffed, not quite believing the attitude his own cat was giving him. 

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be a guard cat,” he grumbled under his breath. “I leave for two minutes…”

Bucky tapped your shoulder with growing impatience. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You wanna explain why you’re passed out on my couch?”

You groaned, one eye cracking open just barely. The light was harsh, and everything was blurry. You squinted up at him, your drunk mind trying to process the face hovering over you, looking both rugged and annoyed.

“Sarah?” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “You… You look taller.”

Bucky snorted. “Do I look like a Sarah to you?”

You blinked, vision focusing on his piercing blue eyes and grumpy expression as he glared at you like an unsolvable puzzle. You turned to Alpine, who remained loafed on your chest, staring up at Bucky with the same serenity. You whispered to the cat with drunken seriousness, “Sarah, is this your boyfriend?”

Alpine let out a soft, approving purr, which only made Bucky’s scowl deepen.

“Oh, great, now I’ve been promoted to boyfriend status?” he muttered, looking at Alpine.

Turning back to Bucky, you hiccuped and gave him a pointed look. 

“Listen, Sarah…” you said, gesturing clumsily to Alpine, “your boyfriend has a really grumpy face. Like, so grumpy. He should smile more.”

Bucky fought back a laugh, his irritation softening slightly. “Listen, whoever you are, this isn’t your friend’s place. You broke into my apartment. Drunk. And now my cat apparently likes you. You need to leave.”

You thought hard, eyes crossing slightly as you tried to remember where you were going. 

“I was… Sarah’s… Or, uh… close enough,” you mumbled with a shrug. “Your cat’s nice, though. Real polite.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky deadpanned. “She’s a real gem. Five-star host, obviously.”

Deciding he’d had enough, Bucky reached down to lift Alpine off your chest, carefully sliding his hands under her. But as soon as he started to pull her away, Alpine let out a loud, drawn-out, angry growl—a sound that was surprisingly menacing for such a small cat, vibrating through the room with an unmistakable warning. Alpine's eyes snapped open, and with surprising speed, she swatted his hand—claws barely out, but enough to make her point.

“Hey!” he hissed, jerking his hand back, staring down at the cat in shock. Alpine blinked up at him, her expression one of supreme, unbothered defiance, as if to say, Move me again, and you’ll lose more than just a little dignity.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Wow. Really?” He shook his head, folding his arms, clearly offended. “You’re seriously gonna take her side? My own cat, my loyal companion, defending some random drunk who stumbled in here like it’s her couch?”

Alpine blinked once, slow and smug, then proceeded to loaf herself more securely on your chest, her purr rumbling louder as if she were demonstrating just how much she preferred this arrangement.

Bucky muttered under his breath, 

“Unbelievable.” He took a step back, eyeing Alpine like she’d betrayed him. “All the kibble I’ve fed you, and this is what I get? You’re practically giving her a welcome package. Should I grab her some slippers and a robe too?”

He leaned down, whispering conspiratorially to Alpine. “You do realize she’s drunk, right? Probably smells like tequila.” Alpine’s response was a pointed yawn, entirely uninterested in Bucky’s objections.

Bucky sighed, casting one more disgruntled look at Alpine. 

“Alright, fine. Guess I’ll just let Miss New Best Friend crash here. Enjoy your girls’ night,” he added with an exaggerated huff, trudging toward the kitchen, throwing his hands up as he muttered, “Unbelievable. Me? Pushed over by a cat.”

× × × ×

You blinked awake as something soft flicked against your nose. Groaning, you swatted at it, only to realize it was a fluffy white tail waving in front of your face. The tail flicked again, tickling your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see a cat—definitely not Sarah’s cat—perched on the back of the couch, watching you with a bemused expression. 

Sitting up slowly, you rubbed your eyes, glancing around the unfamiliar apartment, your stomach sinking as your surroundings started to come into focus. This was… not Sarah’s place. You caught the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, and that clinched it—Sarah hated coffee. She was this tiny blonde British girl who would only ever be caught sipping tea.

You slowly turned, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on a figure leaning casually against the kitchen counter. He was tall, rugged, handsome, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. His white t-shirt clung to his frame in a way that hinted at the strength underneath, and his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, making him look both comfortable and effortlessly put together.

“Good morning,” he said, raising his mug slightly in greeting.

You stared at him, your heart racing, immediately bracing for the worst. Your mind raced through the most terrifying scenarios—where am I? Who is he? And how exactly had I ended up on a stranger’s couch?

The man’s smirk widened, clearly seeing the panic flash across your face. He raised a hand, shaking his head. 

“Relax,” he said, a chuckle slipping into his voice. “Whatever you’re thinking, none of that happened. You broke into my apartment drunk, thinking it was your friend’s place.”

You swallowed, piecing it together, though your cheeks were still burning.

He took another sip, clearly amused. “I should’ve called the cops,” he added, eyeing you with a raised brow. “But my cat kinda likes you, so… we’re good.”

Your eyes flicked to Alpine, who was still perched on the couch, blinking at you like she was saying, Nice meeting you, bestie.

“I… I should go. I am so, so sorry! And thank you,” you blurted, scrambling to your feet, cheeks flaming. You tried to make a quick exit, but in your panic, you tripped over your own foot, your arms flailing as you tried to keep from crashing to the floor.

Bucky moved fast, grabbing you by the shoulders to steady you. “Still asleep?” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and concern as he looked down at you.

“Oh, yeah… kind of,” you mumbled, cheeks still red as you immediately pulled away, trying—and failing—to fix the cowlicks in your hair. Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly holding back a laugh, which just made you more determined to escape. Without another word, you darted out the door, his words about “forgetting something” barely reaching your ears as his doors clicked closed.

You practically crashed into the apartment across the hall, banging on the door until it opened. Sarah’s familiar face, complete with wide, panicked eyes, greeted you. 

“Oh my god, Where were you?!” she shrieked. “I was worried sick! I almost reported you as a missing person!”

“Oh, crap,” you said, cheeks somehow getting even redder. “My bag!”

Meanwhile, back in his apartment, Bucky was shaking his head with a smirk, looking down at Alpine, who had just strutted over to rub herself against his legs as if she hadn’t just completely turned on him.

“Oh, now you’re giving me love?” he muttered, scratching her head as she purred. “Unbelievable. All it took was one random drunk person breaking in, and you were ready to switch sides.”

Just then, he heard a tentative knock at the door again. Bucky opened it to see you standing there, looking like you wished the floor would swallow you whole.

“My bag,” you mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

“Your bag,” he said at the same time, fighting a grin.

He strolled over to the coffee table, picking up the bag and handing it over. “Try not to break into any more random apartments, yeah?” he teased.

You clutched your bag, stammering out a mortified. 

“Thanks,” then bolted down the hall like your life depended on it, leaving Bucky chuckling in the doorway as he watched you practically trip over your own feet again in your getaway.

× × × ×

You sat on Sarah’s couch, head throbbing, as she handed you a couple of painkillers and a glass of water. 

“Did you and Rhys fight again?” she asked, her voice edged with impatience. “Girl, just break up with him already. He might have an uncanny resemblance to freakin Alexander Skarsgård, but the man’s a walking red flag. Who goes clubbing when they have a girlfriend?”

You groaned, eyes still shut, leaning your head back against the couch, the memory of last night’s fight replaying in painful detail. It had started as a small gathering with friends. You’d dressed up, hoping for a nice evening out with Rhys, just the two of you, maybe a dance or two. But halfway through the night, he’d disappeared, leaving you wandering through a packed club. When you finally found him at the bar, he was leaning in close to some girl, laughing in that charming way he had, as if he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him.

When you confronted him, his expression softened instantly, and he tilted his head, giving you that familiar, reassuring smile. 

Rhys cut an imposing figure, his broad shoulders and lean, muscled frame commanding attention even in the crowd. His hair, a shade of sandy blonde that fell just to his shoulders, framed his sharp jawline, giving him an untamed look. He had the kind of intense blue eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of light, their color only deepening as he’d looked down at you.

"Hey, don’t look at me like that. We were just chatting," he’d said gently, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. Don’t you trust me?”

The words, so soft and warm, had made you hesitate. Even as your frustration lingered, the way he looked at you, the way his hand rested gently on your shoulder, all felt carefully designed to melt away any resistance. 

“Come on,” he’d murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You know you mean the world to me. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

He’d turned back to the bar then, smiling as he resumed his conversation, leaving you feeling like maybe you had overreacted, like maybe your frustration had been misplaced. And yet, as you watched him easily slip back into the crowd, that familiar sting of doubt remained. Eventually, you’d ordered a drink, then another, drowning your frustration until the room started to blur, and you’d finally stumbled out, too tipsy and weary to care about anything but leaving… only to end up on Bucky’s couch instead.

“It’s not that easy. I love him, my parents love him…” You trailed off, knowing she’d heard this all before. Your parents and his parents were practically inseparable—best friends for years, even business partners in some way. Rhys De Armande’s family ran a chain of luxury hotels, and you were set to inherit your family’s shopping mall empire. “You know how it is. Everyone expects us to work out.”

Sarah made a frustrated gesture, squeezing the air in front of her like she was trying to strangle it. She dropped her hands the second you opened your eyes, but the exasperation in her face was hard to miss.

“Well, clearly, he doesn’t love you back,” she said flatly, crossing her arms.

You winced, the truth landing harder than you’d expected. 

“Ouch,” you muttered, looking down, unsure if the ache in your chest or your pounding headache was worse.

You sighed, swallowing the painkillers and rubbing your temples. “Can you cut me some slack, please? I just embarrassed myself in front of your hot neighbor.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, her frustration giving way to curiosity. “My hot neighbor?” she asked, smirking. “Oh, this I have to hear. What did you do?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I thought his apartment was yours… so I kind of broke in, passed out on his couch, and, oh yeah—made friends with his cat.”

Sarah burst out laughing, her exasperation melting into full-on amusement. “So, let me get this straight… you broke into Bucky’s apartment, passed out, and had a bonding session with Alpine?”

Your ears perked up at the name. Bucky. That name was way too cute for a guy who looked like that. You peeked out from behind your hands, curiosity piqued. “Bucky? Are you guys… close?”

Sarah smirked, clearly seeing through you. “Why? Are you interested?”

“What? No!” You quickly protested, cheeks heating up. “Just curious. You know, making conversation…”

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Right. Well, he’s single if you want to ‘make conversation’ with him too.”

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and smacking Sarah with it. “Stop it! I’m not interested!” you protested, but your cheeks were still burning.

Sarah just laughed, holding her hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! Whatever.”

Before you could throw another retort her way, your phone rang, buzzing loudly from the table. You grabbed it, and the second you answered, your dad’s voice boomed through the speaker, nearly blowing out your eardrum.

“Where are you?!” he barked. “The meeting started fifteen minutes ago! Do you have any idea how unprofessional this looks?”

You winced, holding the phone slightly away from your ear as you muttered, “Sorry, Dad… rough morning.”

“Well, get here now,” he snapped. “You’re soon going to be the CEO here in New York. Start acting like it.”

The call ended abruptly, You let out a long sigh, muttering, “Crap.” Then you turned to Sarah. “I have to go.”

She eyed you up and down, barely hiding her amusement. “What, like that?” she asked, gesturing to your tousled hair, wrinkled clothes, and less-than-polished look.

Grabbing your bag and hopping as you attempted to shove one foot into a high heel, you shot her a determined look. 

“I’ll make it work.”

You bolted out the door, heels clicking down the hallway as you frantically tried to compose yourself. Just as you reached the elevator and started jabbing the down button repeatedly, you saw him—the hot neighbor himself—coming out of his apartment, Alpine perched comfortably on his shoulders like some kind of royal cat.

“Come on, come on!” you muttered at the elevator, jabbing the button with increasing impatience, as if sheer willpower could make it descend faster. You could already hear your father’s voice echoing in your mind, and he would never let you live this down. Not a chance. It didn’t matter that this was the first time you’d been late for anything in your entire life. Nope—he’d latch onto this one time like it was a pattern, probably bringing it up every chance he got, even at family dinners. “Remember that time you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time?” you imagined him saying. “Such a fine example of leadership.”

You groaned to yourself, muttering under your breath about stubborn elevators and high-strung fathers.

Just then, Bucky strolled up beside you, eyeing your frantic button-mashing with lowkey amusement. 

“You know,” he said casually, voice smooth and annoyingly calm, “that’s not going to make it come any faster.”

You barely spared him a glance, shooting back with a quick retort. “Well, it makes me feel better, so kindly mind your business, Bucky.”

He tilted his head, smirking as he watched you fidget, clearly entertained by your frustration. 

“Mind my business?” he replied, eyebrow raised. “Hard to mind my business when someone broke into my apartment and decided my couch was a free bed.”

You pressed your lips together at the reminder, but he wasn’t done. He nodded toward the button you were still jabbing. “And at this rate, you’re gonna break it.”

You gave him a sharp look, though you couldn’t keep a smirk from tugging at the corner of your mouth, still pressing the button. 

“Fine, if I break it, I’ll pay for it.”

Just then, the elevator doors slid open, and Bucky stepped aside, gesturing for you to go in first with a slight, amused bow. You rolled your eyes but stepped inside, pressing the ground floor button as he followed you in, Alpine still lounging contentedly on his shoulders.

Both of you watched the digital numbers light up above the door as the elevator started its descent, the silence thick in the small space. Every second felt drawn out, and you found yourself fidgeting slightly—until Bucky’s voice broke the quiet.

“Hang on,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at you, “I never actually told you my name.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning a bored expression as you responded with dry sarcasm. “Right. I just happened to guess it was Bucky.” You looked back at the numbers, pretending you weren’t the least bit fazed.

He chuckled, clearly entertained. “Good guess,” he replied, his tone teasing. “Or maybe Sarah’s been talking about me.”

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and you bolted out like you were escaping a hostage situation, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as you made a beeline for the lobby exit.

Behind you, Bucky strolled out casually, watching your hurried pace. “In a rush to break into someone else’s apartment?” he called after you.

You spun around, walking backward as you shot him a parting smirk. “Only if they’ve got a cat that likes me better than them.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, hands slipping into his pockets as he stopped just a few feet away. “Good luck with that. Alpine has high standards.”

“Clearly,” you quipped, nodding toward him with a playful glint in your eye. “She chose me.”

With a final grin, you turned and hurried out the door, leaving Bucky chuckling to himself in the lobby.

× × × ×

You burst through the lobby doors of your family’s corporate building, the adrenaline still pumping as you navigated the familiar halls. Just outside the large meeting room, two of your loyal assistants, Maddie and Rachel, were waiting, eyes widening when they saw the state you were in.

“Oh, boy, you’re cutting it close,” Maddie whispered, quickly reaching up to smooth down your slightly disheveled hair while Rachel adjusted the collar of your blouse. Their hands worked in quick, practiced movements, fixing stray strands, smoothing wrinkles, and making sure you looked like the composed heir they all expected.

“Lincoln’s inside, waiting to give you the rundown,” Rachel muttered under her breath, straightening the hem of your blazer. “And, fair warning—your dad’s pissed.”

“Of course he is,” you muttered, barely holding back a sigh.

Lincoln, your efficient and ever-loyal secretary, materialized at your side, tablet in hand. He gave you a quick once-over, his eyes critical but sympathetic. 

“Your father has been asking for you every five minutes,” he said, voice low as he handed you a prepared file. “You know how he is about timeliness, especially with these quarterly planning meetings. He’s expecting a full report on the upcoming seasonal marketing strategies and wants to discuss new potential store locations.”

You took a deep breath, pulling yourself together as best as you could, letting the details sink in. Your role here wasn’t just about looking the part; you were expected to lead the department, spearhead initiatives, and show the board that you were more than just your family’s name. Today’s meeting would cover everything from quarterly revenue projections to upcoming promotional events designed to boost foot traffic and online sales—a lot to cover, and all under your father’s sharp eye.

Lincoln leaned in, voice calm and steady. “Just stick to the report we prepped last week, and mention the new partnerships. Show them you’re already thinking ahead to next quarter.”

You gave him a quick nod, grateful for the support. “Thanks, Lincoln.”

He patted your arm reassuringly, then gestured to the door with a slight smile. “Now go in there and remind them why you’re going to be the new boss for the biggest branch in New York.”

With one last steadying breath, you opened the door, stepping confidently into the large conference room, your father’s expectant gaze immediately landing on you as you took your seat at the head of the table, ready to tackle the day.

× × × ×

As the meeting wrapped up, you exhaled in relief, seeing nods of approval and satisfied smiles around the table. Despite your rushed start, you’d managed to present the quarterly strategy with confidence, outlining new initiatives that had the board talking excitedly about the future. More than one member voiced their high hopes for you officially stepping in as CEO, and the weight of their approval felt both thrilling and daunting.

One by one, the board members filed out, each giving you a nod or a polite word of encouragement. Soon, it was just you and your father, Richard, who lingered behind, his expression carefully unreadable as he adjusted his cufflinks and regarded you with that familiar, assessing gaze.

After a pause, he finally spoke, his tone mild but pointed. “How old are you?”

You straightened slightly, eyes meeting his. “Twenty-six.”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding as if in thought. 

“Twenty-six,” he repeated. “And yet, you’re acting like a teenager sneaking in after curfew.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the weight of his disappointment was clear. “You’re going to be the CEO of this company, Y/N. The board expects more from you—and so do I.”

You held your ground, forcing yourself to stay calm under his scrutiny. “I understand, Dad, and I’m sorry for being late. But I delivered the report, and the board was impressed.”

He inclined his head slightly. “This time, yes. But if you want to lead this company, you need to take this seriously, every single day. There won’t always be room for excuses.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing back the urge to say something defensive. “Understood.”

Richard sighed, his expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t just want you to be capable, Y/N. I want you to be the best. You’re representing the family, our legacy.” He glanced at the empty room, then back at you. “Don’t let anything get in the way of that.”

You gave a small nod, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “I won’t.”

With that, he gave a brisk nod, signaling that the conversation was over, and strode out, leaving you standing in the quiet room, feeling both motivated and under pressure to prove yourself all over again.

As the door closed behind your father, you let out a long breath, allowing yourself a brief moment to unwind. But before you could gather your thoughts, the door opened again, and in filed your loyal team—Maddie, Rachel, and Lincoln—all of them looking at you with a mixture of pride and relief.

“Good job, boss,” Maddie said with a grin, giving you a thumbs-up. “You handled that like a pro.”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. “Seriously, you were amazing. You had the whole room nodding along.”

Lincoln, ever the composed one, offered a rare smile of approval. 

“Smooth presentation, just what they wanted to hear.” Then, without missing a beat, he pulled out his tablet, ready to spell out your schedule for the rest of the day. “Alright, here’s what you have lined up…”

He scrolled for a moment, then continued, “You have a quick check-in with the marketing team at noon to review the upcoming promotional rollouts. After that, lunch with a representative from Luxx Retail—an initial discussion on the new partnership. Then, at three, a meeting with the creative team to discuss branding updates for next quarter. And finally, a call with our international partners at five.”

You blinked, taking in the jam-packed lineup. “Wow… it’s going to be one of those days, huh?”

Lincoln smirked, tucking the tablet under his arm. “Welcome to CEO life.”

Maddie and Rachel chuckled, Maddie reaching over to give your shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back. You nailed the hard part; the rest is just the victory lap.”

You smiled, feeling a little more ready to tackle the day ahead with their support. “Thanks, guys. Let’s make it happen.”

× × × × 

Bucky adjusted his stance, loading another round as he and Steve stood side by side at the shooting range. The low hum of the ventilation system and the muffled sound of distant shots created a steady background noise, setting the tone for another session. Steve glanced over, eyebrow raised as he watched Bucky with a hint of curiosity.

“So, you’re telling me some random drunk girl broke into your apartment last night and just… passed out on your couch?” Steve asked, trying to keep a straight face but failing.

Bucky rolled his eyes, lining up his aim as he replied, “Yep. Walked right in, curled up on my couch, and Alpine decided she was her new best friend.” He took a shot, the loud bang reverberating through the range. “I left for two minutes to grab my phone from the car, and there she was when I came back.”

Steve couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he reloaded his own gun, shaking his head. “And let me guess, Alpine was all for it?”

“Of course,” Bucky muttered, setting up for another shot. “The little traitor acted like she’d known her for years. The girl even thought Alpine was her friend ‘Sarah,’ or something like that.” He paused, lowering his gun and glancing at Steve, still in mild disbelief. 

Steve laughed, raising his weapon and aiming down the range. “Man, only you would have a meet-cute that involves a breaking and entering.”

Bucky snorted, firing off another round. “Yeah, if you call that a meet-cute. Girl’s got sass, I’ll give her that. Told me off for ‘minding her business.’”

Steve lowered his gun, giving Bucky a pointed look. “And you didn’t call the cops?”

Bucky shrugged. “Didn’t have the heart to. Plus, Alpine seemed pretty happy with her there.” He paused, smirking slightly. “Besides, it was kind of… entertaining.”

Steve shook his head, grinning as he took another shot. “Only you, Buck. Only you.”

After a few more rounds, the air around them settled, and Bucky took a breath, lowering his gun and glancing over at Steve with a thoughtful expression.

“So,” he started, reloading his weapon more slowly this time, “are they asking you to go back? Back to duty, I mean. Avengers stuff.”

Steve paused, his own gun lowered as he considered Bucky’s question. 

“Yeah,” he admitted after a moment, nodding. “Got a call last week. They’re pushing for me to come back, but I haven’t given them an answer yet.” He glanced over at Bucky. “What about you?”

Bucky shrugged, his expression neutral, though there was a hint of something else in his eyes. 

“They’ve reached out a few times, nothing urgent. Mostly checking in.” He looked down, absently running a finger along the barrel of his gun. “Guess I’m still on the roster if they need me.”

Steve studied him, picking up on the unspoken hesitation. “You miss it?”

Bucky exhaled, glancing down the range before answering. “Some days, yeah. But… sometimes, it’s nice not to have everything be about missions and orders. Almost feels like I could have something close to normal.” He smirked a bit, adding, “Well, if my version of normal includes strange women breaking into my apartment, anyway.”

Steve chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll see where things go. But for what it’s worth, you’ve earned a break, Buck. Normal or not.”

Bucky nodded, and they both lined up to fire another round, the familiar weight of duty lingering between them.

[hellishjoel]

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?) 

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.   “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.  He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist. 

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

[hydrobunny]

i remember it all too well

tags: angst, post breakup, flashbacks, journalist reader, angst angst angst, it's all too well come on now

a/n: happy belated birthday sae itoshi

your world pauses the day sae itoshi is spotted with a new girlfriend.

the photos are blurry, paparazzi shots taken from at least one building over. it doesn't matter. you would know the curve of his arm around a waist in a thousand different lives.

you have to admit she fits him. even as your hands shake, you can't deny that they look happy- something the two of you weren’t so good at.

it doesn’t stop you from harboring too-many amounts of memories all the same.

you met him before he had joined the world of the superstars, but after he had already been something greater. (you think that if you had met him before everything, you two would’ve fared better.)

by the time you two had locked eyes, he was already changed. something inside of him had shifted, turning away from everyday life and facing immortal legacies instead. you had falsely believed you held a place in it.

you should’ve known better, right from the very first words he spoke to you.

“you’re not supposed to be here.”

you pause, looking up from your phone to face the voice.

cold eyes glare down at you, beautiful in color. the boy - because he can only be around your age, barely leaving the teenage years at most - they belong to is just as annoyingly beautiful. you think you should recognize him.

“excuse me?” you ask, offense rising. “i know where i’m supposed to be.”

his eyes only narrow. “is this another shitty tactic? i said i was done with interviews.”

“good for you, dude.” you roll your eyes, pushing past his shoulder. “why anyone would ever want to interview you, i have no idea.”

as you leave, you can feel his gaze on your back.

you blink, shaking yourself out of whatever that was. it's not good to linger on the past. (your therapist had told you that.)

still, she has also told you that one couldn't grow without recognizing what exactly they had to grow from.

perhaps that's why you find yourself rummaging in your bedside drawer for a deeply buried box, the ends of your fingers numb.

when you open it, you’re met with nothing but a handful of flimsy keepsakes. from fraying bracelets to notes to polaroids. all of them are snapshots of a relationship no longer yours, artifacts of what used to be your heart.

in each flashback, sae itoshi lingers.

the next time you met him, you had learned that he was supposedly a household name. (never in your household, though.)

the great hope of japan’s future -despite what he himself had to say about the country.

you’re a little embarrassed by what happened. still, you refuse to take all the blame.

“sae itoshi,” you blurt out. “you’re here.”

those stunning eyes flicker to you, and he actually pauses. recognition actually stops him.

“you’re the one who was lost,” he says, mildly. “not pretending to not know me this time?

you flush. “in my defense, i didn’t know you. i don't do the sports section.”

he raises an eyebrow. “then why am i still seeing you?”

before you can respond, your boss comes rushing through the hallway, sweat beading on his brow.

“itoshi-san!” he blusters, barely sparing you a glance. “we’re so glad you’re here! is the intern bothering you? your interview is in the next room over, so if you just want to follow me- we're so grateful you decided to give us your exclusive.”

something twitches on sae’s face. “intern?”

offense rears its head in your chest. “what-”

“i’ve changed my mind,” sae interrupts mildly. he turns to you, taking hold of one of the many pens lying on your desk.

ask you and your boss watch in bewilderment, he leans down and scrawls something on your notepad.

“she’ll get the exclusive,” he says, straightening back up. “when she isn't an intern anymore.”

and he turns and walks out of the building, leaving nothing but a string of numbers on a sticky note.

the same sticky note rips between your fingers. once you start, you can't stop yourself, until all you're left with is a pile of bright yellow scraps.

you move onto the next item. a wiry black wristband; one half of a forever missing set.

you had been dating sae itoshi for exactly one month. all of your friends still thought it was as some long-standing elaborate joke. at certain times, you couldn't believe it yourself either.

despite it all, despite every little memory you can pore over for hours at a time, you can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things changed.

it’s a strange truth, one you’ve struggled to come to terms with- but it's a truth. if someone were to ask you when your relationship with sae soured, you wouldn't be able to say.

perhaps it wasn't a singular moment. maybe it was a long time in the making, like how a banana slowly browns- until one day, it’s rotted.

either way, one form of heartbreak or another, the truth was this:

you and sae itoshi had ended.

[stevie-petey]

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.  “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.  It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything. 

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

-

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue Camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this English essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

-

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[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Spirit

Imagine you never truly escaped your yandere...

You couldn't remember how long you had been locked in that psycho's basement. Chained to the wall day in and day out. Having him insist on changing your clothes himself and hand feeding you all your meals. Having to deal with his jealousy and rage. It was a nightmare.

So of course when you got a chance you had to take it. You couldn't let this opportunity slip through your grasp. So you secretly managed to pick the lock on your shackles and waited for him to let his guard down. Using that moment of defencelessness to pry the kitchen knife out of his hand anf plunging it into his chest. Stabbing him again and again and again, until you saw the life leave his eyes.

You finally ran out of the house, still covered in your admirer's blood screaming for help. Running all the way to the police station. Though as you told them your story, you could get over the feeling of eyes staring into the back of your head.

The trial went by, you got away with the murder being an act of self-defence, and you tried to get back to your life. You tried to get over the past. Going to a therapist, getting on meds, getting back in contact with your friends and family. It was hard but you wanted to get back to your life. Make up for the months stolen from you. Though no matter how hard you tried, you could never shake the sinking feeling that you were being watch. Just like before...

You tried to force the thought away. The fucker was dead, you saw it with your own two eyes, you caused it with your own two hands. You were just paranoid. But everything was so strange anymore. It felt like history was repeating.

Things in your room would change location, doors you swore you had closed would open on their own, and you still felt those eyes staring at you. It was just like last time...

That's when you started calling the police and the hospital and the morgue. All for confirmation. And they all said the same, he was dead and buried. So why couldn't that calm you? Why did it feel like a lie? Why were you convinced he was still there? That he was still watching you.

...

Then that night came. Being woken up by the sound of the phone ringing. It was an unknown number. You tried to ignore it. Rejecting the call and curling up back in bed, only for the phone to ring again. Checking the number, it was the exact same as before. Ignoring the call again, you didn't even get the time to roll over before the phone rang yet again. You finally answered, ready to demand an explanation from whoever was on the other side. Only for your voice to die in your throat.

"It's me, Darling~..."

Your blood ran cold. It was him. How was he calling you? He was supposed to be dead...

"Oh, how I've missed you. I've been so lonely without you..."

You killed him. You watched him die. How was he doing this? He was supposed to be gone...

"But that all changes tonight..."

How could this happen? What did you do to deserve this? You thought...

"Because I'm finally taking you with me..."

You thought you were finally free...

[phoenixblaze1412]

Ok this might sound dumb but listen

What if dottore was the one who got isekaied into our world? Like, he was working on something and boom he's in our world

How would he react to our modern technology and lifestyle and literally everything ( maybe the reader could give him a small tour/help? )

Dottore didn't expect his experiment to explode. He was sure no one tampered with his projects and did every procedure successfully.

So why is he currently face to face with you, an insomniac college student who was holding a belt and clothing hanger as if you were about to hit him?

Communication is key, after all. And that is what Dottore did, communicated with you.

He was surprised that you know all about him, from his past and his current connection with the fatui.

Dottore is a man who prefers knowing the truth by seeing it with his own eyes. Since you were blabbering on about how he is a fictional character from a currently famous on-going video game called Genshin Impact, Dottore thought you were a lunatic.

Oh how you savored his shocked expression when you showed him said game and even moved around the map as the traveler.

That got him curious. How is he in your world? Would he even get back to his?

Dottore decided to worry about those questions later, right now he is currently fascinated by technologies in your house.

"What is that tiny box in your hand? How are you accessing it without pressing any buttons? Give it to me."

You had to buy two new phones since Dottore broke your current one. He took it in the middle of the night and disassembled it just to see what's inside.

You had taught the doctor on how to use a phone. Giving him your number so that if he needed to contact you when you're not around, he could either message or call you. Luckily you didn't have to teach him more about the camera.

Ever since Dottore became your housemate, he became your personal caretaker as well. Whenever you would be staying up all night with your college studies, the doctor had to drag you off to bed and sleep. He would tie you on your bed if you gave him attitude. If you obeyed, he would cuddle you until morning.

The two of you made an agreement that while Dottore is currently living within your house, he should also get a job. He does need the money to buy the materials he needed to create a portal back to his world, after all. And those materials are definitely not cheap.

Finding a job that matches with Dottore's skills are easy, keeping the job is a hard one.

Dottore isn't allowed to be a veterinarian, he just mutated a person's sick cat into a horrifying creature that it had to be killed. Your silly doctor was giddily telling you how the experiment worked successfully, the cat's owner wasn't too happy with him.

He is not allowed to be a therapist. The doctor would just tell the patient, "it's your problem, not mine."

As a doctor in Teyvat, Dottore currently cannot be a doctor in Earth. With his ideals and immoral ethics, he would either kill the patient or transform it into a test subject. He doesn't even have any sympathy for the patient's relative who were in distress due to their loved one dying, Dottore would simply ignore them.

You were very stressed and burnt out with finding a suitable job for your silly doctor without having to worry other people about his... personality.

You could only stare in shock. Dottore got a job and it hasn't fired him within a day yet? Did god just helped you- wait no, Dottore would flick you in the forehead if you ever talk about any gods or archons.

Dottore as a mortician, the one who hired him didn't even care about his crazy personality. All the boss asked was if Dottore can handle night shifts and doesn't have a weak stomach, the doctor immediately got the job.

You were happy that Dottore was able to get a job that pays his services well. But you couldn't stand it when he would scare the hell out of you.

One time, you went to the morgue to visit him and see how he is doing, only to see the entire building quiet with the lights flickering. Walking off to where you know Dottore would be, you headed in the room where all the dead bodies where situated. You could feel your stomach drop as you stared at the bodies that were pulled out of their cells.

You have watched too many horror movies with Dottore that if you see one of the corpses suddenly moving, you're bolting out and leaving the doctor behind.

You suddenly felt something heavy being laid onto your back as you turned your head to come face to face with a dead man's corpse.

"Boo!"

Your screams can be heard throughout the establishment, following it was Dottore's loud cackles.

Dottore doesn't like going out of the house much. He would only do so if needed, for example, if he needed to buy some more materials and equipments for his experiments.

Even if he does go out to buy things, you are required to go along with him. He needed the extra pair of hands to carry the items he can't. Not only that, but you're the only one he can trust. You're the one who can give him some opinions about the things he would plan to buy. Even if you two would argue about some childish things, he secretly likes it. Especially if he could see your pouting face.

All in all, having Dottore in our world would be a different experience. Just make sure he doesn't bring home any corpses from the morgue for him to use as test subjects.

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance P3

Modern! Titus x Reader

S: His first conversation has inspired him to try and build greater connections with the people he already speaks to. His therapist is overjoyed with this development advising him that in due time he will see his anxiety dwindle as exposure is the best type of therapy. Titus is motivated and encouraged even, to pursue further socializing with you. Hopefully, this could be the start of a new connection.

W: PTSD episodes, Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Reader is a broke Artist, Titus works as an Analyst for a company, Ableist comments (From Titus and to Titus)

Previous / Next

He didn’t know why he continued to do this to himself. Guilliman had told him to buy a notepad or set reminders on his phone but Titus refused to do so. It got to the point that Guilliman bought him his very own notepad with differently formatted pages so that he could use it for whatever he needed. He once again forgot to take the notepad or write anything down in it as he was browsing the grocery store shelves searching for something he knew he needed but forgot.

His forgetfulness only grew worse with the more he remembered the conversation he had with you a few days back. He couldn’t stop himself from reliving it as it was a weird source of comfort. You didn’t frown at him or make a displeased face. You looked at im, really looked at him, and didn’t think any different about his appearance. Even his doctor at times made faces when talking about his injuries. It made it hard to live in his body at times. But you made it tolerable, at least for the moment.

He mindlessly grabbed whatever was in front of him, not even bothering to read the label or check the price as he continued to relish in the memory before being snapped out of it by his phone buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket, hoping to see a call from his doctor or Chairon but he was instead met with his boss's name. He frowned at the still-ringing phone but still answered the call reluctantly.

“Hello, Mr. Guilliman.” Titus greeted.

“For the love of everything, Demetrian. Stop calling me 'Mr. Guilliman'. I’m not just your boss, I’m your friend. Reframe from such a habit.” The younger man shouted. It never ceased to surprise Titus just how odd Guilliman was. Their age difference made this even more odd considering that Guilliman was also his superior at the office. It felt awkward to have his boss be younger than him but he guessed he couldn't complain too much as he himself was once a young Lieutenant and Captain who led men and women off all ages. Age didn't matter too much in the military if you had the ability to prove yourself capable of the work being assigned to you.

He assumed this is why Guilliman didn't stay longer in the military and didn't resign his contract. His might and his brain weren't worth being wasted in combat when it could be used for more analytical and important tasks such as leadership in the bureaucratic system they lived in. In a way, Titus was glad the younger man had left. Guilliman looked more relaxed working in an office than working in a tent in the middle of nowhere.

“I will do my best to refrain from addressing you in that way.” Titus complied.

“Good. Now, I have a question for you if you aren’t too busy.” Titus could practically hear the grin that was spreading across his boss's face.

“I’m not.” Titus began to walk down the aisle and into a new one as he spoke on the phone. He readjusted his phone so he could hold it with his other hand instead of the same hand that carried his basket full of groceries.

“I have an event that I want you to attend. I’m having some of my best employees come with me to help push and talk numbers with some big players in the industry that Father is interested in doing business with. This will be over the span of a week but won't be until a few months from now.” Guilliman explained.

“Ok?”

“I wanted to ask if you had anyone or any responsibilities that might interfere with this event.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Guilliman teased.

“I’m positive.”

“That’s a shame, I was hoping you’d say yes so I could get you an extra ticket for a potential plus one.” Guilliman added. Titus stopped in his tracks, processing what his superior had just said. Plus one? The only person he could think of that Guilliman might be insinuating is you and it made him feel unease.

Titus had mentioned you in passing during their lunch break. They had been speaking on the phone and decided to have lunch together to catch up on what the other was doing outside of work. He had been talking about how he had met someone at the supermarket who had caught his attention because of how they shopped. He didn’t know how to explain to Guilliman that you reminded him of his mother and how she would take great care in reading and observing costs and food contents when buying food. He didn’t know how to explain that he liked that you dressed the way you did, uncaring if some may criticize you for looking poorly in the middle of the day. He thought it was unique and quirky that you gave such a lacking amount of care to what those around you thought of you. It almost helped him feel less judged when he shopped.

Since then, Guilliman had tried getting him to talk more about you or about any of his few friends outside of himself. Guilliman found it interesting to see just how much Titus needed routines and positive reassurances to know he was doing good. This was in stark contrast to the Captain he had known who didn't seek praise and would scream his lungs out at privates and soldiers during drills and combat. A larger-than-life man who lived to serve was now reduced to an anxious mess who needed reinforcement. It was a fall from grace that Guilliman dared not talk about since he knew that his comments would do more damage than good.

All that Guiliman knew was that predictability and transparency helped Titus and that had remained the same even now. Guilliman wasn't complaining, Titus had been more talkative, more communicative, more present. He had found some strength to come into the office for small project events or meetings that could have been done remotely or even on an email debrief. He was seeing great developments in work and he wanted to nurture these new habits since it slowly brought out the man Titus once was.

"I dont know them well enough for that, Roboute." Titus explained.

"The event is 4 months away, ok. Im just saying that if by any chance there is someone in your life that you wish to bring along I'm more than happy to have them come. The more the merrier." Guilliman added. Guilliman said his goodbyes before hanging up without giving Titus time to respond back. Titus, annoyed, put his phone back into his pocket, not paying attention to the path ahead of him as he did.

"Ouch!" Titus snapped his head towards the noise in front of him. He looked down where he felt something crash into him only to find you sitting on the floor, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry." He apologized. He put his basket down on the floor before grabbing you by the arm and helping you to your feet.

"No, it's ok. It's on me. I wasn't paying attention." You apologized back. You patted your clothes hoping to clean them from any dirt you might have picked up in your fall.

"Thanks for picking me up, Titus." You smiled up at him, hoping that he didn't misinterpret your apology for sarcasm. Titus looked nervous as he watched you. He looked like he was inspecting you for injuries, not that you would have any, but just to make sure.

"No problem, Y/n."

"So what brings you back to the store, Titus? Anything new you're trying?" You asked wanting to be polite.

"I was told by my dietician to try adding more sugars into my diet. I'm... trying to see what is tolerable enough for me to eat." For someone of his stature, you would have assumed he would be louder but he was soft spoken. Clear and precise, calm but soft. It reminded you of the older gentleman living next door to you who would ask you to help him bring his case of water up if you had the time.

"Do you not like sweet?" You asked.

"I've developed a dislike for overly sweet things so I tend to avoid sugar in general." He explained. In reality, his anxiety made sugar act almost like a trigger. Either he could taste it and it was overwhelming or he'd consume it and it made his anxiety spike. He avoided sugary drinks, sweet treats, and even basic foods that have sweetner in it. The ice cream he had bought was the only thing he could tolerate as it wasn't too sweet and the cold numbed the taste.

"Fruit tends to be the easiest way to get sugar into a diet. It's hard not to enjoy them since there's variety." You explained. This seemed to ease Titus a little. His once furrowed brows eased just a little at the suggestion.

"I will try that." The conversation died from there. While you thought there was nothing more to say, Titus was buzzing with questions of his own. Another conversation with you meant more exposure which meant that his therapist would be proud of his progress and he himself will be proud of his progress.

"What about you?" He asked. He looked at your empty basket before returning his gaze to you.

"Me? Oh, I was seeing what I could get for $20. I don't really have the budget right now to experiment with food."

"What can you possibly get with $20?" He questioned. You thought his question was brash but you chalked it up to shock.

"You'd be surprised. It mainly works if you bargain or use coupons. For the most part, I get the ramen packets or rice." You shrugged.

"So you mainly eat...."

"Poorly? Yeah. When your broke you have to eat whatever, so might as well eat something that's not gross."

"Doesn't it leave you in a nutritional deficit?" Titus was trying to wrap his head around how anyone could possibly live off of this diet. Even the MRE's he would get in his service was better than the food you planned on buying. It sounded horrible and his face must have shown it because you laughed before explaining yourself.

"It does, but again, I dont have the money to buy anything other than the things I really need." You smiled up at him again, the corner of your eyes pinching against your cheeks.

"It was nice talking to you, Titus. Hopefully, next time we see each other you can tell me what fruits you liked." You winked at him teasingly.

"Of course. I will make sure to do so." He nodded. You couldn't help it, but you chuckled at him. He was amusing, to say the least. There was no way he was an actual person. He was too formal, too forward, too honest. You kinda felt bad for being able to know so much about this man when you haven't said enough about yourself.

As you walked away Titus sighed. This had been the longest conversation he had with you. This was good! He wondered if he had said too much or not enough. Maybe it was invasive to ask the questions had asked. It was all said and done but he couldn’t help but worry. He shook his head, he wasn’t going to allow doubt to consume him. Not now, not when he had just gained such a positive thing.

When he made it back home he made sure to go about his usual routine with as much urgency as he could. He double checked his locks, took a shower, put away his groceries, and grabbed his laptop from his desk to bring it over to his bed. He laid there, silently waiting for a call to come in. The ticking of his clock unnerved him as he waited. No matter how many times he had done this it still never stopped being stressful. The waiting, the anticipation ate at him as he counted down the seconds.

*bzzzz* *bzzzzzzz*

Titus clicked on the green answer button that appeared on his laptops screen before readjusting the camera and himself.

“Demetrian, what a pleasure it is to see you once more.” An older man with glasses that looked almost comically round, greeted Titus. He smiled, teeth showing as he waved at the man.

“Dr Galeo, it is good to speak with you again.” Titus greeted back.

“You’re looking well. I hope you’ve been following instructions given to you by your physician?”

“I have. There’s no need to be concern.”

“Good, good. I’m that case, let’s talk about your progress shall we? What have your most recent interactions with other people have been?” Galeo ask.

“Positive. I’ve been meaning to tell you abott it my interactions either Y/n, actually.”

“Do tell, Titus.” Proded Galeo.

It was as if the flood gates had open. Titus talked and talked and talked about you and the conversation you had had with each toner. Every moment, every word, every movement you had made was described in detail as he spoke to his therapist. Be couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, he just needed to talk to someone about his new friend. Galeo didn’t mind his team kings, if anything, this was the whole reason why he enjoyed his weekly check in with Titus.

When Titus had first started therapy he was closed up. He refused to speak or even write down his thoughts or feelings. It was frustrating as it didn’t seem that the man would open up any time soon and Galeo would have to fire him as a client. So when Galeo proposed Titus begin making small interactions with people in his gym, this seemed to spark a reaction. Titus didn’t take recommendations but orders and a life of service made this even more important for how Galeo was going to treat him. So he began giving Titus orders. Do this, do that, you must complete this. This worked even if it felt like it was degrading to do but it gave Galeo space to work with. Titus began reporting back that he would speak to the kind woman in the front desk at his gym if only to say “hello” and “goodbye”. This began to slowly evolve into him speaking to the new security guard at the gym that had approached Titus asking what his workout routine was. Story after story of the security guard became frequent but what threw Galeo off guard was the story about the person Titus had met at the supermarket.

“They spoke to me, again.” Titus said. His voice was in awe, almost as if he couldn’t believe that a basic human interaction could possibly be directed at him. Galeo knew Titus was deeply insecure but to see him genuinely surprised that something so small such as a greeting or acknowledgment would be directed at him made something in Galeo mourn for his patient.

“And they said that they wanted to hear if I liked anything new that I tried.” Titus finished. Galeo smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“That’s wonderful Titus. You and your friend seem to be making progress."

"They even gave me their name. Y/n."

"See, and here you were worried about rejection. You're making good progress. This is something to celebrate." Galeo encouraged.

"It feels childish to celebrate something so normal but I truly feel like I've progressed in my treatment, Galeo."

"And I see that progress, Titus. In due time, you will see all of these efforts pay off." Galeo comforted him, hoping that his words held some value to the man.

They spent the rest of their session making idle conversation on things Titus could improve on. Galeo hoped that more social interaction could help Titus see that the world wasn't against him. They ended their session with Galeo tasking Titus with trying to extend this connection with you outside of the supermarket. friendship is good for his health and Titus, unfortunately, has lacked those platonic relationships ever since he left the military. Titus agreed with him and even stated that there had been a few people who had reached out to him but he hasn't had the courage to reach back out of discomfort. Galeo reassures him that all in due time, there's no need to rush but there needs to be an attempt to try. With that, Titus ended the call and began preparing an early dinner for himself. He ate his meal in silence as he thought about the events of today. Would you want to be friends with him? Would you feel comfortable spending time with him outside of the occasional bumping into each other in the supermarket? He made sure to clean his dishes and then take a shower before heading to bed. He lay in his bed contemplating the plans for the next day. He had it off, there was nothing for him to do. Maybe he would be kind to himself and explore the city he lived in.

[serendipitouslife90]

A/N: It has been 12 years since I have written anything. I keep dreaming of writing again one day. I barely have time for myself, so it never happens. Today I really wanted to break the ice. Just wrote a little drabble that has been on my mind and writing it in midnight middle of my sleep.

P.S. Don't have time to do any form of proofreading. Just typing in my phone.

Warnings: None.

What took you so long?

48 hours ago, if anyone had told Bucky that this would be his future, he would have awkwardly laughed it off. His life always seems to take the most dramatic and surreal turns.

.

.

(2 days earlier)

When Bucky had first talked to you, he was instantly smitten. When he had become friends with you, his crush only became worse. He started imagining and fantasizing the perfect life with you.

The relationship, however, is a far cry from his fantasies. He, filled with shame and regret, wanted to breakup but no one could fool you. You saw right through him. You figured out, quite quickly into the relationship that even the slightest of touches causes his anxiety to spike up. Bucky didn't want to burden you with his problems.

That's the day you assured him, in kind words that he needn't feel pressurized to meet any for of societal timelines in a relationship. You started meeting up with a therapist to get the right resources to be his pillar of support. You were working diligently, with his consent, on his issues. He was grateful. He fell in love with you so deeply that it scared him.

Recently, a tiny thought started reverberating in his brain.

"What if, one day, you realize that he truly doesn't deserve this? He is not worth it. It has been more than a year. What has he offered you? He could barely kiss you on the cheek."

The mere thought of separation just created a visceral reaction in him: his palm sweating, his stomach twisting and he just wanted to puke.

"What's the matter Bucky? I can feel your eyes on me," you said, eyes still on your phone, with a smile on your face. That beautiful smile and the voice laced with love is enough for Bucky to stop that mini meltdown in his head.

"It's just ... " Bucky sighed, his broad shoulders slumping forward.

You kept your phone down and looked at his dejected posture. You went near him and held out your hands. He grabbed it almost immediately and you patiently waited, giving him time to articulate his thoughts.

"It's just... It has been more than a year now and I still get clammed up to even kiss ya." He mumbled grumpily but you know the sweat in his palms indicated that this has been eating him for sometime now.

"Bucky... Why are you so hard on yourself?" You said, rubbing your thumb across his palm. "You have progressed so much. Give yourself some credit." A playful smirk appeared on your face when you continued, "Besides, I don't care if you don't even give a kiss at the altar. You are stuck with me."

Bucky's brain just short-circuited. His jaw slacked a bit.

"What?-" You asked, clearly oblivious to what you just said

" You... would marry me?" Bucky interrupted with shiny eyes, his face filled with awe.

"Is that a proposal, James? You winked.

His face blushed a rosy pink. Pure joy danced in his eyes as you lovingly replied,

"Because if it is, I am saying yes, in a heart beat. Let's go to the courthouse right now."

A sheepish smile appeared in his face.

He couldn't stop thinking about you being his wife. He had this goofy grin the whole day, making every other Avenger curious.

......

........

(Present)

Your lighthearted words really did a number on your boyfriend, or must you say fiancé now.

This morning Bucky came to you with absolute conviction and said, "Are you sure you wanna marry me? I am going to hold you to your promise. I am taking you to the courthouse today."

"What took you so long?" You winked.

A/N: Holy shit! It is 5AM already. Gotta catch up on some sleep. Will be posting on AO3 later today. A little conversation with a fellow writer on AO3, LitaKino inspired me to write again.

P.S. And yeah, I am a bit outdated. "What took you so long?" is from the pilot of Dharma and Greg.

[justmeinadaze]

Smutty request here....massage therapist(s) Eddie and/or Steve 🥴

Got me feeling all the things

Happy Ending (Steddie X You)

A/N: So this intimidated me a bit because I don't a whole lot about massages and that field. But I ran with what I know and put a spin on it. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Masseuses Steddie and you and all that implies (I regret nothing), mentions of stress from the read and a broken heart, she is aware that they provide more than just massages, DP (I said what I said), they are gentle with her for the most part but their is slight allusions to Dom/Sub dynamics (spanking, some bratty behavior, and stern tones), I think that's it.

Word Count: 6244

“Trust me, Y/N, these two will change your life.”

“They’re masseuses. It’s a massage, Deb.”

“Yes and no.” You stare at your friend as you sarcastically blink in her direction making her laugh so hard she almost spits out her drink. “Yes, they massage your body but they also do…other things…to help you relax.”

“Nope. No thank you. I’m good.”

“Y/N! Wait, come on.” She reaches for you hand as you start to get up from the lunch table you two were eating at. “Listen… you remember how hard things were for me a few months ago? I was working 80-hour weeks trying to get that promotion, my mom was scolding me because I’m still not married, and then add in being broke as hell.” Your friend sighed as you placed your palm over her hand.  

“Someone suggested them and I thought ‘Hey, what do I have to lose?’ When I met them, they were so kind and gentle. I swear for a second, I forgot I was even worried about anything. And that was before the…ahem…happy ending.” You blush as you both giggle. Debbie suddenly leans in closer to you, lowering her voice. 

“They both do the massaging part but you can decide who makes your ending a happy one. Personally, I chose the tall, pretty one. Not that the other one wasn’t cute…he’s just not my type, you know?”

“You can only have one?”

Your friend gasps as she playfully hits your arm. “You whore!”

“What?! I’m just asking! More so out of curiosity.”, you shrug. “I guess not everyone is into that kind of…kink but…I mean if you’re hiring them knowing what they do…wouldn’t you want to take the opportunity?”

“Goddamn, I will never understand why Tony cheated on you.” Your eyes meet hers as she softly smiles. “You’re sweet, funny, fucking gorgeous, and apparently really open minded when it comes to ménage à trois.”

You return her smile with one of your own as you lean back in your chair. “Yeah, well, if you ever find that out will you let me know?”

****

You sigh as you enter your big, empty apartment. Tony, your ex-fiancé, was supposed to come by while you were out today with your friend to get the last of his things. Now half of your home was quite literally gone. 

As you hugged your arms around yourself you noticed a note on the kitchen counter. 

“Y/N,

I think I got everything but if I forgot something can you save it and let me know? 

This was incredibly hard for me. I love you so much, baby. Can’t we just—”

You crumple the letter without bothering to read the rest. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. You heard it all before you caught him with her that night and after you threw him out.

After grabbing a beer from the fridge, you held the card Debbie gave you for the masseuses, tracing your fingers over the number.

“Ugh! Fuck it.”, you exhale as you reach for the phone.

It rings a few times but right as you begin to rethink what you’re doing; music suddenly blares through the line. 

“Yeah! Hello?”

“Um, hi. I’m looking for the Munson-Harrington massage people…thing.”

The man on the other end chuckles as he lowers the heavy metal in the background. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard us called that before. Massage people thing… Yeah, you got one of them here. How can I help you, sweetheart?”

“I, um, my friend recommended I utilize your services.”

“Do you always talk this dirty or are we special?”

“I don’t know. Are you always this much of asshole or am I just that special.”, you growl.

The music on the other end abruptly stops and you hear movement on the other end. 

“You sound like your absolutely special. Are you a little nervous?”

You sigh as you lean against the kitchen the wall. “Yeah. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not even regular…massages. Deb, my friend, said you guys changed her life. My life kind of sucks right now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to and you definitely don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. My friend and I just want to help you relax. Pretty sounding girl like you deserves a clear head.”

“Hm. I bet you say that to everyone who calls.”

“You’re right. I did tell the telemarketer before you that he sounded gorgeous.”

That made you genuinely laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie. I’m the Munson in the name. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You slide down to the floor as you take another swig of the drink in your hand. “Is the Harrington part of your company there?”

“Yes ma’am, he is. Would you like to say hello?”

“If that’s ok. I don’t want to impose or anything.”

“HARRINGTON! There’s a pretty girl on the phone who would like to speak with you.”

You listen to Eddie pass the phone as he tells the other boy your name. 

“Y/N? Hey, I’m Steve. I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

“Are you an asshole like your friend?”

“I can be when I need to. Eddie! What did you do to this girl?”

“Nothing! She started it by calling and being adorable.”

“Oh my god.”, you giggle. “You guys are good.”

“And we haven’t even touched you yet.” Your breathing stuttered at his comment. He said it with so much confidence as if he already knew his hands (and services) would blow you away. “Are you still with me, honey?”

“Yeah, um, Eddie said that…we could go slow and if I didn’t want…the…”

“He’s right. We want you to be comfortable. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Y/N. If you just want a massage that’s fine. If you just want to talk that’s fine to.”

You exhale heavily into the phone before finally making up your mind. 

“Okay. I’m free on Friday.”

############

“Shit, shit, shit!” You continue to curse as you run down your apartment building hallway. “I am so sorry I’m late! Work kept me late and—”

You froze you saw them sitting outside your door, quickly rising when your eyes meet theirs. 

“Hey, no problem.” One of the boy’s grins as he extends his hand for you to shake. “I’m Steve. This is Eddie.”

“The asshole.”, he teases as his gigantic palm encapsulates your own. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off them; they weren’t what you were expecting at all. You assumed Steve was the “tall, pretty one” your friend had mentioned but to you they were both handsome. Eddie had that kind of metalhead look you’d seen walking the streets of your town with his leather jacket and long hair. His Metallica shirt rested perfectly above his belt that was holding up his blue jeans. 

Steve looked like the everyday 80’s guy you saw in most romance movies at the theater but his smile radiated a confidence that made you feel safe. His muscle-bound arms in his polo caused a little sigh to escape your lips as your eyes traced the rest of his figure. 

“Do we…have to do a chant or something?”

You glanced at Eddie completely confused until he gestured towards the front door. 

“Oh, fuck, right. I’m sorry. My head is just…” You clumsily turn your key in the lock and allow them entry into your home. 

“Wow. This place is really nice.”

“Uh, thank you. My fiancé, well ex-fiancé, and I wanted a bigger place closer to the city since we both worked over here. Do you…would you guys like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. We appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles in your direction making your knees a bit weak. “You can have something though if you want.”

“Thanks? I mean with it being my apartment and all.”

“Ah, there’s that sass I was waiting for.” Eddie flashes you a tooth filled grin.

After pouring yourself the strongest drink you could find, you watched them set up near your living room. Your eyes continued to rake over them as they exchanged small talk with each other, allowing you some space to get more comfortable with their presence.

The phone ringing startled you as you turned to give it your attention. Before you could pick it up it routed to the voicemail and Tony’s voice flowed through. 

“Y/N? Babe, are you there? Please, I just want to talk.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to his excuses. You hated being alone and this gigantic apartment was just another reminder that he wasn’t by your side anymore. You missed Tony terribly but no one in the world had ever hurt you as badly as he had. “…I swear to God, she meant nothing to me. I’m just a fucking idiot.”

Feeling a sudden warmth, you opened your eyes to meet Eddie’s as he towered over you. You glanced at Steve whose own face reflected the same sympathy as his friend. 

“…I felt so fucking lonely, Y/N. You were always at work and I felt like you never had time for me. Baby, I know what it’s like to sit in that apartment all by yourself, hurting. Please just talk to me—”

“Hey. Just so you’re aware you are a fucking idiot. She’s not sitting here alone crying her eyes out over some asshole who broke her heart. Y/N has moved on and you should to. Stop calling.”

After hanging up the phone, the metalhead turned to face you again. “I hope that was ok.”

Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his waist, clinging to him as you sighed into his chest. His arms gradually came down to hold you to him as his cheek rested on your head. 

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I’m not going to lie, Stevie, we may want to reconsider taking a payment in a hug because this is quite comfortable.”

They both laugh as you pull away and smile at them. 

“We’re ready whenever you are, honey.”, Steve grins as he points towards their makeshift table.

#########

Your eyes remain glued in front of you as you listen to Eddie move about the apartment. 

“Y/N.”, Steve whispers from behind you as his breath warms your ear. “Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk if you want or we can even leave. No hard feelings. We understand how uncomfortable this situation can be especially since you don’t know us but that makes it a little bit freeing to.”

“Can, um, can I ask you for a favor?” You softly smile when you turn to look at him and he nods. “Can you…take off my clothes? I-I-I don’t think I…”, you ask, stuttering through your nerves. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I can. Did you want to keep anything on?”

“Is that an option?”, you giggle. 

“Sweetheart, you hold all the power here.” Eddie slides up beside his friend, now jacketless with no shoes. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone let alone naked in front of someone. Tony wasn’t lying about that. I’ve always been busy with work and—”

Steve gently places his index finger over your lips. “Nothing that asshole says matters. I don’t care if you were on the moon, he had no right to cheat on you.” His finger glides down from your mouth to your blouse as he begins undoing the buttons while the other man shifts behind you and unclips your skirt. 

Both garments fall effortlessly to the floor as Steve continues watching your face for any signs of hesitation or discomfort. 

“We’re going to do this one at a time, ok? I’m going to take off your bra and then Eddie’s going to remove your panties.”

Once he gets your approval, he leans over your shoulder and begins unhooking your bra from your body. You don’t know if it’s because he’s being so sweet or if it’s because his strong cologne wafts into your nostrils but something inside of you causes you to turn and softly kiss his cheek. 

Steve pulls back slightly, looking through your eyes till a small smile flickers across his lips. He and his friend had been doing this for a while but not one of them had been as tender at you had just been. He knew there was something different about you when he spoke to you on the phone and he knew Eddie felt it to when the metalhead completely turned off his music to talk to you. 

He hoped he wasn’t misreading things and took a leap of faith as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead before tossing your bra near the rest of your clothes.

Strong hands on your waist turned you so you were now facing Eddie as he sunk down on his heels, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and delicately tugged them down your legs. The pads of his digits traced along your skin causing a little shiver to run up your spine. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

His grin grows as he stands up and looks down at you. “I did have a date with that telemarketer I told you about. Turns out he WAS really good looking.”

Steve smiled behind you when you laughed, gently guiding you towards their table, and helping you up as you lay on your stomach. Folding your arms above you, you rest your head on them like a pillow. The metalhead digs in a bag before kneeling in front of you again till his face was level with your own. 

“Which do you like better?” He holds up bottles to your nose and you point to one that smells like vanilla. 

“What are those?”

“Oil. Steve’s the smell guy and knows how to utilize them better than I do.” He stands up and passes the bottle you chose to his friend. 

“Honey, we’re going to touch you now, alright? It might feel a little weird at first because of the oil but if at any point you get uncomfortable and want to stop or take a break just let us know.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes, unsure of what to prepare for but when a set of hands begins rubbing into you back, you can’t help but let out a soft, low moan. “Shit. I’m—”

“Princess, this is your house. Make all the noise you want to and please don’t be embarrassed.”

“You can also talk to us if you want to. Maybe about things you’re stressed about.”

A second set of hands find your calves and a strong exhale leave your lips. “Honestly, you heard my main bit of stress.”

“Fucker Magee?”, Eddie asks. 

“Yeah.”, you giggle. “Everyone in my life thinks I’m overreacting and I should forgive him.”

“Um, we may not know the whole story but the man you were going to marry cheated on you. I think you’re reacting properly.” Steve’s hands trailed along your spine and back down to your hips. 

“I went to visit him at work and they were fucking in his office. Some pretty, young, big breasted coworker.” 

“What a bitch.” You smiled as Eddie laughed at his own comment, his palms massaging along your thighs and back down to your feet. “For how long?”

“A few months. We…we were supposed to get married next month.”

Fingers came up to firmly knead into your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve watched your lips form into a thin line before you pressed your face into your arms. As soon as you felt your emotions were in check, you turned your head back to the side. 

“That feels good actually.”

“Did you think the massage business part was just for show?”, Steve laughed.

“I mean… I don’t know. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Said the girl who called me an asshole.”

“To be fair, you were being one.” It feels almost on purpose when Eddie’s fingers slide up between your thighs just barely near your core before sliding back down your legs.

“You’re not wrong, sweetheart.”

Steve’s own hands glide up your sides, grazing the sides of your breasts before looping back around to your shoulder blades.  

“I hope I’m not being too forward but you have a beautiful body.”

“No, you’re not being too…thank you. Um, you-you can go a little higher if you want.”

“Who are you talking to, honey? Me or Ed?”

“Eddie… You can go higher to. If you want to…”

The hands on your back lifted off you as Steve came around to kneel in front of you on his heels. “How about we take it slow, huh? One thing at a time.” His palm petted your head as he moved the hair back from your face. You let out a little gasp when you felt the metalhead’s fingers slide between your folds. “Are you okay?”

You nodded as you bit your bottom lip, lifting one of your legs up the table to allow him more accesses. This man felt like a master with his fingers as he rubbed circles slowly into your clit.

“Pl-please.”, you whine. 

“Please what, Y/N? What do you need?

“Can…can I turn around? On my back.”

“Of course, pretty girl. Whatever you want.”

They patient waited for you to roll over before Eddie placed his thumb back on your nub. You watched with heavy, lust driven eyes as he stuck two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva, and sliding them into your sex. 

“Oh wow, princess. You’re tight.” He exhaled, trying to hide the little moan that wanted to be heard. 

Steve stood back up to his full height, coming around to stand behind your head as he reached down and ran his hands over your tits, massaging them gently but firmly. 

“F-fuck.”, you whimpered. As your back arched, you could help but notice the bulge in his pants. When you tried to touch it with your palm, he jumped back like you startled him. 

“Hey. Um, you…you don’t have to do that, honey. We’re here for you.”

“You don’t want me to feel you?”

Your voice sounded so small; Steve felt his cock twitch. “I…I do…I just…you don’t have to.”

Grabbing his shirt, you yanked his lips to yours. The combination of man and mint on his tongue had you clenching tighter around the other boy’s fingers making him groan, this time much louder than before. 

“I want to.” You slid further up the table, allowing your head to hang a bit over the edge, licking your lips as the man pulls down his shorts just enough for his dick to spring free. “Jesus. I’ve never had anyone as big as you are before.”

He smirks as he subtly chuckles. “You can’t say things like that or else I’m going to cum before you even touch me.”

Your tiny hand reaches for him as he steps closer, mewling when your tongue runs along his tip. You don’t see it but the men give each other a cursory glance. This is a little out of bounds for them in the sense of they rarely ever have the women they massage service them in this way and on the off chance a client does it’s usually during the second part when they are alone with one of them in the bedroom. 

Steve continues to be gentle with you as he runs his fingers through your hair when you wrap your lips around his hard, now throbbing length. Eddie thrusts his fingers into you at a faster pace and your moans vibrate through to the boy in your mouth. 

“Goddamn, Y/N. Your mouth feels so good. Your ex is a fucking idiot.”

They both take note of your reaction, your head bobbing faster as your pussy clenches again. 

“He really is, sweetheart. Makes me want to call him back and curse that fucker out.”

Tugging your head back, you continue to pump him with your fist as your hips began to grind up into the metalhead’s hand.

“Fuck, I’m…”

“That’s it, beautiful girl. Just let go. It’s okay.” Eddie pressed the heel of his palm against your clit as he moves his fingers move at a quicker pace. The sound of your slick fills the room and after a few moments your body trembles as you cum. “Good girl. Coming like that. Geez, I’m so fucking hard right now.”

Abruptly, you sit up and grab the back of the man’s neck as you bring his lips to yours. After your release, your kisses were much hungrier and you reveled in the taste him as your hands shot down to fumble with his jeans. 

“Wait…are you sure…you don’t want Steve.”, he asks between kisses. “You’ve kinda…got him…all riled up.”

“Want both.”

Eddie froze as he pulled his head back. When you tried to chase his lips, his palms gripped either side of your face forcing you to focus. 

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“Want to.” You tried to lurch forward again but he was much stronger than you, holding you in place. 

“Y/N, princess, come down from cloud 9 and really think about what you’re asking for.”

You couldn’t control the annoyed exhale or tone as your eyes met his. “Am I not allowed? I can pay you more.”

“It’s not about the money. We—”, Steve began before you cut him off.

“Want me to be comfortable. I know! I know what I’m asking for. Now, do you want to fuck me or not!?”

Ringed fingers snaked into your hair and firmly pulled it back. Something changed in Eddie’s eyes; a look he saved for partners he had in his own bedroom. 

“Control the attitude, Y/N.”, he growled. “Listen to what he’s saying. It’s not about the money and it’s not about getting off. It’s not fun for anyone here if you wake up in the morning with regret. And while this little session here IS all about you, don’t forget we’re people to. We’ve been doing this for years and no one has ever asked to take us both one right after the other.”

“I’m not asking for that either. I want you both…at the same time.” They look at each other again, unsure of what to do or say. Your hand reaches out to turn his attention back to you as you lean your forehead on his. “Please, Eddie. I know what I’m asking for. I need it. I need you both. Please, please, please.” As you keep repeating your last word, you manage to fully unbutton his jeans, glide your hand through the waistband of his boxers, and rub your palm against his cock.

His jaw falls open as your lips trail down his neck.

“I mean…if she thinks she can handle it.” 

Eddie growled again with more vigor as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom with Steve in tow. After tossing you onto the bed, he tore off his shirt, and you marveled at his tattoos, crawling on your knees till you were in front of him again. His hands laced in your hair as your tongue descended down his chest, stopping just above his waistline to allow him to shuffle out of his pants. 

The bed dipped behind you, suddenly feeling strong palms grip your hips and lift them a bit higher into the air. Steve’s own tongue licked a long stripe through your folds causing your body to shudder pleasantly at the feeling. Eddie held the base of his cock, allowing the tip to brush against your lips. 

You opened your mouth for him and he wasted no time pushing through, groaning when your warm saliva began coating him. The metalhead was much thicker than his friend and at times you struggled to take him, gagging around his dick as he occasionally hit the back of your throat. 

The strong vibrations of your moans as Steve latched his mouth to your clit had Eddie’s own eyes rolling back as he held on to your hair tighter trying to control himself from just face fucking you till he came.

You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or not but both men were still massaging you with their palms, Steve especially. His hands rubbed and caressed firmly up your lower back, around to your stomach, and down to your thighs as his tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves. While one of Eddie’s hands remained in your hair, the other ran between your shoulder blades and around to your front to knead your breasts adding to your high. 

Your mouth came off the boy in front of you with a pop as drool dangled from your lips. 

“Yes, Steve. Please, you’re going to make me cum.”

You practically screamed as he pressed his mouth further into your core, sucking and licking until you felt the coil snap as you came. Your upper half fell flat against the mattress as you panted, smiling softly as your body continued to twitch. 

Eddie’s fingers left your hair and moved to your shoulders as he lifted you back up to your knees so he could see your face. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’m sure I want you both inside of me.”

His head tilts to the side at your answer, mostly because it was said correctly, or at least how he liked his questions answered. He wondered if there was a submissive side of you that enjoyed it a bit rougher like they did. Both men NEVER brought that into the bedroom with a client and most of the time none of the women they were with never asked. 

You weren’t asking either but he imagined, like they did, that was something personal for you so you saved it for the man you were dating or intimate with. 

Eddie shook the thoughts from his head as his hand laced around your neck and brought your lips to his again. 

“Seriously, your fiancé is so fucking stupid to let you go.”

You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you yanked him closer to you for a hug. He could get used to this. 

“Have you ever done this before?”, Steve asked.

“This exactly, no. Have I ever done anal before? A couple of times. You may need to go a bit slow at first especially since…um…I’ve never had a man, men, as big or thick like you guys.”

You giggle when the boy exhaled again, grabbing your waist, and falling on to the bed with you on top of him. “You have to stop saying things like that. You’re going to kill me!”  

“What, do you want me to lie? ‘Oh Daddy. Your cock is average size and will definitely not split me in half.’” Your giggle turned into a full-blown laugh until you notice he had a funny little look on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I was just—”

Steve leans up, cutting you off with a passionate kiss. “You’re an interesting woman. Eddie’s right. I seriously don’t understand why anyone would cheat on you. If you were mine, I don’t think I’d ever leave your side.”

“Aw…that’s creepy.”, you playfully smiled.

On impulse, he smacked your ass. They never did that first. Sometime a client would ask for a light spank but he just delivered you one he’s only given to bratty girls in his bedroom. He didn’t mean to but something about you made him comfortable.

“Shit. I…I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, dismissing his apology as you kissed him again. Eddie reached over your shoulder to hand his friend a condom and they both hastily tore into the wrapper before sliding it on. His eyes met yours as he leaned back against your mattress and his hands gripped your waist.

“Whenever you’re ready, honey.”

Nodding, you exhaled the nerves as you tipped forward, and slowly lowered your body to his. You both moaned when his tip breached your entrance and Steve craned his neck to watch himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. 

“Fuck, baby. That’s it. Take your time.”

You heard the metalhead’s heavy breathing behind you as he stroked his cock at the site before him. The sound caused you to clench and a broken mewl left you as you pushed yourself further onto him. 

“Oh my god. You’re so…I can’t…”

His palm glided up your sides to caress your cheek. “Yes, you can, Y/N. You’re doing so good taking me already. Do you want some help?”

When you nodded, he firmly took hold of the back your neck and lowered you till your face was hovering over his. His hips thrust up to meet yours and your mouth fell open. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. I’m going to do it again, ok?” When you nod again, he pumped into you a couple more times till you felt him bottom out. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Jesus, so fucking tight. You feel so good, pretty girl. It’s Eddie’s turn. Let him know when you’re ready.”

After a few moments and subtly thrusts from Steve, you turned towards his friend and gave him the okay.

Hands spread open your ass and you tightened around the other man again when you felt spit hit your asshole and Eddie’s fingers massaging it in. Your body tensed slightly when the tip of his cock rubbed between your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, if at any point you want to stop, I want you to say ‘Red’ for me, alright? Can you tell me what I just said?”

“If…if—fuck—if I want to stop…say ‘red’.”

“Atta girl.”, he praised as he quickly leaned forward to kiss your temple. 

Prepared, Steve’s palms held on to your face as Eddie began to push into your body. Your head started to droop but his grip was stronger than yours. “Y/N, look at me, honey.” When you did what he asked, his thumb extended out to run along your bottom lip. “You’re doing amazing. How do you feel?”

“F-full.” The metalhead licked the pads of his fingers, looping his arm under your body to slowly and softly massage circles into your clit. “Oh my god!”

You tried to collapse against Steve’s chest but he still wouldn’t allow it. 

“Holy shit. Y/N, stop moving.”, he scolded in a firm tone before he realized what headspace he was slipping into and reeling himself back into the present. “Baby, not yet. You…you say you’ve never had anyone as big as us. I-I don’t know about, Ed but I’VE never…had a woman as tight as you.” He flashed you a small smile. “I’m trying so fucking hard not to cum right now.”

Eddie’s hair bobbed behind you and the man knew he was nodding in agreement. 

“You can—mmm—you can talk to me…like you did. I-I-I don’t mind.”

His eyes scanned over your face as your eyes closed. “Hey, I said keep your eyes open, sweet girl.” You purposely ignored him, grinding your hips forward slightly for good defiant measure. Both men grunted at the action but it was Steve who held your face tighter. 

“Look at me, now.” This time you listened. “What did I say, Y/N? Don’t fucking move. You need to be patient, little girl. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, I understand.” At that moment, the metalhead’s hips finally connected against yours. “You…you both can…move. Please, I need you to move.”

The man underneath you released your face and circled his arms around you as he pressed you to his chest. When they both thrusted into you at the same time, the euphoria you felt was indescribable. It was like they knew exactly what you needed and where they needed to be. Each stroke was strong and precise, hitting every nerve inside of you, and setting your body ablaze. 

“Go-go ahead, princess. You wanted—goddamn—you wanted to move so bad. Take over.” Eddie’s hand came down hard on your behind and you hurriedly (and willingly) did as he commanded. Their grunts and groans drove you crazy, egging you on as you bounced and rolled your hips as fast as you could. The obscene sound of skin hitting skin echoed in your room mixed with your whimpers of pleasure. 

It was almost too overwhelming as the ball in your belly began to wind faster and faster. Steve’s grip moved to your hips as Eddie held on to your shoulders.

“Cum, baby. Let go and cum as hard as you fucking can.”, the man under you whispered into your ear. Your forehead fell into the mattress beside his head as they both pounded into you. Their rhythm changed as they slowed, punching the air from your lungs as white blurs your vision. You scream into the bed below you as they fuck you through it, Steve lifting his hand to run his fingers through your hair.

“That’s it. Good-good fucking girl. Taking us both so well.” Eddie tilted forward, placing sloppy, wet kisses against your back as he rolled his hips. He soon followed after you, grunting loudly as he spilled into the condom. Steve, unable to hold back any longer, came as well, smacking his hips against yours and using you to milk himself dry.

#########

Eddie’s eyes blink open as his watch beeps signaling midnight. His eyes take a quick scan of the area, realizing they were still in your apartment. He and Steve were tucked under your sheets but you weren’t between them. 

“Steven.” The metalhead reached over to shake his friend’s shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”

“Huh? Wha?”

“Oh my god, you idiot. Steve. WAKE. UP.” Between each word, he firmly punched his arm causing the other man to grumble in anger.

“What?! Why are you in my room?”

“Oh, you know. I thought I could just use a nice Harrington cuddle. WE AREN’T AT HOME!”, he hisses. 

Steve rubs his eyes before Eddie’s words sink in and he bolts up right. “Shit. We fell asleep.”

“You don’t say.”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson. Where is she?”

As he shrugs, they both jump out of bed. Steve finds his clothes on the floor but the other boy struggles to find his. 

“I know I took them off here.”

“You did.” They both jump at the sound of your voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I woke up before you and noticed your clothes had oil on them from when you picked me up so I washed them for you.”, you softly smiled as you handed Eddie his jeans and shirt.

“Um, thank you. You…you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem. I was hungry to I heated up some left-over pizza if you want some.”

Their eyes scanned over you as you leaned in the doorframe with a mug in your hand. You had changed into an oversized shirt with a metal band that Eddie definitely knew and some sleep shorts. Your hair was a little frayed but to both of them you looked like an angel. 

“I mean, you don’t have to. I don’t really know what the protocol is or how this works.”

“Well, to be fair, I’m not sure if you noticed but this whole thing was a bit off script for what we normally do.”, Steve grins as he nervously chuckles. He has no idea what they are supposed to do either.

You silently nodded before turning and heading back out to the kitchen as they follow behind. 

“How, uh, how are you feeling?”, Eddie asks. 

“Calm. Oddly relaxed. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve felt like this since before I got in engaged.” You hop up onto the counter before meeting their gaze. “Thank you.”

They smile as Steve heads for where their things were as Eddie grabs a slice of pizza. “I made some coffee to if you want some.”

“Did you put our table and all that way?”

“Oh, yeah. I cleaned it to. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to use a certain type of cleaner but I just used my 409. I folded it and placed it by the door with your bags. I, um, I wasn’t sure if when you woke up you’d…want to make a quick getaway.”

They exchanged a look as your head hung. 

“Why do you think we would want to do that?” When you shrug at Eddie’s question, he saunters casually over to you and lifts your chin with his fingers. “Let me rephrase. Is that what you want us to do?”

“Do you want us to leave?”, Steve reiterated. 

“Like I said, I don’t know…how this works…”

“That’s not what I asked, Y/N.”

“No…I don’t want you to leave.”

They both grin at your answer. “We don’t want to leave either.”

Eddie starts to giggle through his teeth as he jumps on the counter beside you. 

“What’s so funny, Munson?”, Steve asks as he comes to lean on the counter across from you both. 

The metalhead intertwines his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“Nothing. Just…this gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘happy ending’.”

[sumaneun-stars]

'One reason to stay'

Pairing. Jungwon x fem!reader

Genre. Best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, comfort

Warnings. Mentions of suicide, reader going through depression

Synopsis. You finally broke down- in front of your crush out of all people. Sigh.

You sat atop of a large rock which lay on the many other rocks- overlooking the sea. You admired the golden tinted water which moved back and forth in steady waves, slowly swallowing the radiant sun.

The scene switched to a dark misty forest. You wore a beige flowy dress, hair tied to a half ponytail with little green accessories decorating it. You ran to the source of light a few meters away to spot a small pond which was framed by algae covered white stone benches. Small creepers which bore light purple flowers entangled with the legs of the benches, with little green butterflies fluttering their wings around them.

You opened your eyes to disappointing, depressing reality. You found yourself sitting on the carpeted floor, your head resting on one of the couch cushions. Your eyes were drained out from the number of tears which flowed out not many moments ago. Your lips were dry and your skin was pale- with dark lines circling your worn out, sleepy eyes.

The world is not a nice place to live in. It was drowning you slowly- except it didn't let you die. Assignments and homework piled up on your shoulders- and exams dropped like a boulder on your head. You didn't mind falling off a cliff considering the fact that you're dying anyways. But there was one thing which made you not want to leave. 

One reason to make you stay.

You heard the faint sound of the door unlocking, thinking it was one of your friends because your phone was on silent for days.

"Y/n?" You heard a soft voice call.

You then saw the blurred figure run towards you. He knelt down to your level. "Y/n? What's wrong? Why are you so pale?" he asked- holding your face with his warm hands. You smiled at him, but your eyes told a different story. You looked down, trying to hide the redness of your face.

His eyebrows dropped, making his face show nothing but concern. 

"Hey, look at me," he said, his voice lower than a whisper. He raised your head up to meet your eyes. 

"I don't like it here" you mumbled through your pouting lips.

"Why?" He asked, caressing your hair in hopes to comfort you.

Your lips trembled and your eyes became teary. You dropped your head on his shoulder- and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You sobbed softly into his sweater as he carried you to the couch slowly. He sat on the ground, his hand still cupping your face wiping your hot tears.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked.

You shook your head, making him whisper a tiny 'okay'.

Jungwon was your best friend, at least you were for him. Ever since you first set your eyes on his contagious smile, in the midst of about 5 to 6 people in the classroom, you fell hard. You thought it was a mere crush, until he walked up and spoke to you, lighting up your dark and misty perspective of life. Except you weren't the only girl in his life, or else that's what you thought. Silly little you, of course he likes popular girls with bright smiles and pretty faces- you remind yourself everyday. But little did you know, he felt just the same butterflies as you did when you looked at him.

After a few minutes, he brought you back to his lap, letting you sob into his shirt.

“Y/n” he started. “Life is hard, I agree. But I swear you're the strongest person I've ever seen, this'll be a piece of cake, alright?” He ended with a smile. He looked confused, and looked like he was trying so hard, making you chuckle a little.

“What? I know I'm a horrible therapist, you don't need to say it out loud” he rolled his eyes.

“Noo” you replied, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. 

If only you could kiss those lips, it would solve all your problems even for a little while. A boulder off your shoulders, a plaster on your wounded heart, an umbrella from the blazing sun.

He shifted a bit, before pursing his lips and humming to himself in thought. He was in a dilemma, by the looks of it. He reached out to his bag lying beside him, a tiny smile forming in his lips. He took out a lollipop, orange flavored to be specific, your favorite. You gasped. 4 years of running towards the candy section to search for the orange flavored lollipops but it was always out of the market.

“They brought it back?” You exclaimed, making him instantly laugh at your change of expression.

“Mhm” he nodded his head.

“Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around him, expecting to stay like that for a while before he parted the hug. It upsetted you slightly, but of course, there should be a reason for it.

“Well…” he started, scratching the back of his neck. He looked- nervous. “I'm not good with words, so I wrote it down” he said as he dug his pockets, and finally took out an unevenly folded piece of paper with a smiley face drawn on the blank side of it.

You were about to unfold it, until he took your hands in his, closing the paper back again. He smiled giddily, before taking the strap of his bag and rushing out of the room. You were left in confusion, but was soon snapped back into reality when his face appeared once again.

“I'll walk slowly so you can catch up after reading it” he said before giving you a bright smile and leaving the room.

You unfolded the piece of paper, to be met with his usual messy, ant-sized handwriting. It had ink marks in the corners of the paper, clearly showing that it was accidentally drawn while he was spinning his pen.

‘Uhh well, hi! It's me, Jungwon. Let's get right to it, shall we? 

I can't really describe this, but I'll try. I used to think I knew happiness, and that smiling could only be formed intentionally, a command from my brain or heart- until I met you. Crazy, right? You didn't even smile that often at me, but I found myself giggling and smiling every time I saw you. Over time, I realized I couldn't spend a day without drifting away in thoughts about you. Daydreams and imaginary scenarios which were once starred by me and a really pretty celebrity, got replaced by me and you. You, you and you. Everything is about you. My world now revolves around you. I see you in clouds and sand, even in plain sight! Sometimes I think I'm crazy! Y/n, I'm obsessed with you. It's almost unhealthy. Every little thing you do makes my heart beat faster than the speed of light. The way your eyes turn into rainbows everytime it rains, the way you can't laugh without snorting, the way you walk like a penguin, the way you can't hold your laughter in a serious situation; they all make me feel lighter than a cloud. Y/n, I sorta, kinda, maybe, might, slightly, possibly be in love with you. No- I am in love with you. 

Hurry! I might be still waiting outside, it's freezing! Hug me if you accept my heart by the way ♡’

You found yourself crying once more, not in sadness, but pure joy. Without any hesitancy, you grabbed your coat and ran out of your apartment. You ran as fast as possible towards the bakery you two shared most memories with, to find him sitting on a bench, head down and back crouched.

He raised his head up to the sound of your footsteps and panting, a smile as bright as the sun forming on his face soaked with tears. He stood up, feeling slightly dizzy from the tears shed not long ago. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around him, tears of joy exploding into his chest. You looked up at his mixed expression.

“Were you crying?” You asked as you wiped the tears off his face, chuckling at his state.

“I was scared you wouldn't come,” he mumbled, before snuggling his head into the nape of your neck.

“But I did,” you said, your voice low.

He raised his head up, staring at you until you pressed your lips to his. His face was in pure shock, before he connected his lips with yours once again. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart explode into a thousand butterflies.

Funny, how a single person can lift a truck's worth of problems off another's shoulders. Your mind which was once filled with nothing but plans to leave behind your melancholic life, was paused by a single piece of paper. It was him all along, the answer to your never ending mystery of life. 

Him, the one and only reason to make you stay.

End.

A/n: Comfort for us depressed/delulu hoomans<3

[lowkeyrobin]

slimecicle x reader but write it around the writing trope thats your current favorite! :))

yall cannot be giving me freedom like this.... ; anyways doing a little country/twisters 2024 au / aquiatences to lovers thing cause idk my favorite writing trope lmaoooo ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy :) ; this is also super short cause idk writers block ; also idk why I did an au??? I started this at 4am so I apologize LMAO

SLIMECICLE ; ain't no love in oklahoma

summary ; from chasing twisters to falling for each other, charlie will always be your daredevil driver to your sarcastic weather scientist

warnings ; language, tornados/twisters, schlatt saying the f-slur, sex jokes/innuendos but nothing nasty

track ; ain't no love in oklahoma, luke combs

word count ; 900

masterlist

Getting to know Charlie, especially while chasing tornadoes, was definitely something. You'd been acquaintances, you being a scientist and him a storm chaser, for a while now.

You had a passion and a desire to study these twisters, becoming more and more frequent, growing more dangerous. He knew how to fucking drive, that's for sure.

"Faster!" You shout, leaning forward a bit to look up at the sky, your iPad in your lap.

"It doesn't get much faster than this!" He shouts back, the car going airborne for a split second over a bump.

You both grunt, being knocked back to the ground in the lifted truck. Schlatt and Ted sit behind you, with Ted recording on some fancy camera and Schlatt reading you numbers and statistics off of his phone while everything about the twister was being live recorded. You're all strapped in, of course, watching as the one twister divides into two.

"Holy shit!" You shout, looking at Charlie for a moment. "You see that too, right?!"

"Yeah!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Shit is only gonna get worse"

"Shit"

"I'm tired"

"Me too"

You nod as you four sit around the round table, the moonlight shining in through the window behind you. Schlatt loudly bangs his hands on the table before using the weight to push himself up on his feet.

"Goodnight fags" He speaks, before collecting his jacket and iPad to return to his room.

"Night" You raise a hand, waving him away.

Ted then follows, having been attempting to rub sleep away from his eyes for over an hour now.

"Don't fuck in the kitchen, you two!" He shouts over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes in response.

Charlie slowly looks over at you, trying to scan your expression. "So..."

"Hm?"

"You have a good time today, chasing twisters?"

You nod with a dorky smile, "Yeah, yeah, I did"

"What's all the tech stuff mean?" He asks, resting his chin on his hand, elbow perched on the table.

You shrug, "Statistics. High statistics, higher than usual. More sporadic and frantic, even"

He nods.

You stand up, wanting to eat before retreating to bed. Ted had made Mac and Cheese, but you never found time to get a bite. You grab the last bowl and scoop some into it, then put it in the microwave for 30 seconds to reheat.

As you stare at the counter slowly descending to zero, you feel a pair of hands wrap around your shoulders, slightly digging into your muscles.

"Y'know, you look like you need a massage"

You lightly sigh, shaking your head. "I'm fine. Tired and hungry, Charlie, tired and hungry"

"And stressed" He adds

You nod to that.

"I can make it go away"

"We're not banging in Ted's kitchen"

He blinks a few times, having to connect the dots. He didn't realize how he messed that wording up.

"Oh, no, I mean, I can give you an actual massage. My aunt is a massage therapist. I mean, we can make out if you want-"

"You better get your hands ready for a massage"

Down the hall, Ted and Schlatt are able to hear your grunts and groans from the living room.

"Ugh, harder"

Ted raises an eyebrow, looking at Schlatt.

"A little low- ugh"

Their jaws drop in disgust.

Schlatt quickly slams the door shut, alerting you and Charlie that they heard and were still awake. You and Charlie both look up, confused and oblivious. You roll over, having heard enough of your spine cracking and popping like Rice Krispie cereal.

"Thank you, really"

"Anything for you-"

"Don't even, cowboy"