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joelsgreys · 1 year

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words left unspoken l a safe haven drabble

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: You accidentally fall asleep in Joel’s arms; on the walk back to reality, he almost says those three words.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. mostly angst. reader has some post sex feelings she has to work through. Joel carries reader. soft, soft Joel. we all love some soft Joel, right?

Word Count: 2.7k

“Peach, baby—hey, you’ve gotta wake up now.”

Joel’s deep voice breaks into your slumber.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze as he tries rousing you from sleep without startling you. It’s only been an hour or so since you’d fallen asleep in his arms—Joel had been keeping close track of the time to make sure that he’d be able to get you back home well before sunrise.

“Hm?” you mumble out sleepily as you nuzzle your face into his warm, bare chest. You can feel his heart beating, steady and strong against your cheekbone—his heartbeat was what had soothed you to sleep in the first place. You have one arm draped over his stomach, and the other is curled uncomfortably between your naked bodies, completely numb.

“C’mon, sweet girl.” Joel lifts his other hand to touch the side of your face, his index finger trailing a soft line from your temple down to your jawline. Although he had done his best to savor every last second of you being fast asleep in his arms, somehow it had still gone by way too goddamn fast. “S’time to wake up, darlin’. We’ve gotta get goin’ pretty soon before people start gettin’ up for their mornin’ duties.”

Finally, your eyes flutter open.

You lift your head off of his chest, feeling dazed and confused. “Joel?” Your eyes meet his in a silver stream of moonlight. “What are—where are we?”

He chuckles and plucks a piece of hay out of your hair, showing it to you. “This ring any bells?”

You take it from his hands and your eyes widen as you pinch it between your fingers.

Letting out a loud gasp, you quickly sit up on the blanket and look around almost frantically as it all starts coming back to you. You and Joel were still together in the barn. “I fell asleep?”

“Sure did,” he replies, sounding thoroughly amused. “Asked you if you were gettin’ sleepy, you said no, then passed out ten seconds later.”

“How long was I out for?” you ask him, your entire body flooding with sheer panic. “Do you know what time it is right now? Fucking hell, where are all our clothes—”

You start to get up off of the blanket, the feeling of dread pooling deep in the pits of your stomach.

Joel sits up and one of his hands reaches for yours to stop you. His mere touch calms you down—not completely, but enough to keep you from spiraling.

“Relax, peach. I was keepin’ track of the time,” he promises you as he runs his thumb across the back of your hand. “You were only asleep for an hour.”

Frowning at him, you chide, “Joel, why the hell did you let me fall asleep in the first place?”

“‘Cause you were fuckin’ exhausted, that’s why,” Joel states. He offers you a small, crooked smile and adds teasingly, “I could tell ‘cause as soon as you knocked out, you started snorin’ up a fuckin’ storm, sweetheart.”

You stare at him, mortified. “I was snoring?”

He nods, chuckling. “Like a fuckin’ bear, baby. It was kinda terrifyin’ but also kinda cute.”

Flustered, you run a hand through your hair. “Joel, you shouldn’t have let me fall asleep,” you scold him again lightly. “That’s too risky! What if you would’ve accidentally fallen asleep too? Or lost track of time somehow? Then we would have been screwed. We could have been caught. The first thing the stable hands do in the morning is come into the barn to get hay for the horses—”

Joel squeezes your hand. “I was wide awake, darlin’. I swear it on my life.” He leans forward and softly catches your mouth with his in a reassuring kiss. “I wouldn’t let anythin’ like that happen.” Letting his lips linger against yours, he murmurs, “I wouldn’t let anythin’ bad happen to you, peach. Not if I can fuckin’ help it. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know that,” you utter, quietly.

“Good.” He pulls back a little bit further, his gaze catching yours in another beam of light. “Besides, it was kinda nice just layin’ here with you asleep in my arms. It was real nice, actually. Somethin’ I could really get used to if I had the chance.”

You detect a hint of sadness in his tone, and an emotional lump starts to quickly climb its way up your throat. Now that you had a chance to come down from the high and the post sex haze had worn off, there was an overwhelming feeling of guilt that lingered like a thick, dark cloud over your head—and it had nothing to do with the fact that you’d just had sex with a man who isn’t your husband. This guilt, it’s different because it has everything to do with Joel and the fact that this arrangement was incredibly unfair to him.

He deserves so much better than a relationship he's forced to hide. He deserves far more than the scraps of time that you gave him—Joel deserves a woman he could actually be in a proper relationship with, a woman he could complete his family with. A woman who can give him everything that you can’t.

He’s wasting his time—his life—with you.

“Peach?” Joel’s voice breaks into your train of thought. He peers at you with concern. “You alright?”

You manage to give him a small nod and force a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Joel.”

Although he isn’t entirely convinced by your answer, Joel doesn’t want to push you—so he lets it go for the time being.

He stands up and holds his other hand out to you in an offer to help you up off the blanket. “C’mon. We need to get dressed and get a move on. Sunrise is in a couple hours and we need to get you home.”

You nod again as he hoists you to your feet.

It takes a minute or two for the both of you to find your discarded clothes around the barn—how one of Joel’s boots had landed about six feet away from the other one was beyond either of you. You pick it up and hand it over to him in silence. He hands you your shirt that he’d found in exchange.

“Thank you,” your murmur, taking it from him. You turn around and slip your camisole back on, feeling a tightness deep inside of your chest. It’s unfathomable how you were supposed to just go back home to Luke after Joel had made you his own.

His kisses would linger on your lips forever and his touch was now permanently etched into your skin like a tattoo.

You don’t want to go home to Luke.

You want to be with Joel—you want to be the woman he deserves. But you fucking can’t and that feeling inside your chest grows even tighter, making it hard for you to breathe.

After you and Joel finish dressing, he walks over and picks up his blanket from the makeshift bed of hay. He quickly dusts it off and inspects it, being thorough as he makes sure it is free of any dried grass before draping it over your shoulders. Taking your hand tightly in his, he leads you out of the barn and the both of you begin the fifteen minute walk back to the residential side of the settlement.

“You’re real quiet all of a sudden,” he observes after a few minutes into the trek. You’ve both just reached Main Street—usually bustling with crowds, at this time of night it’s empty and silent. “You sure you’re alright?”

You chew the inside of your cheek anxiously as you debate whether or not to voice your concerns to him—what if he agrees?

What if he also realizes that he deserves better than you?

Selfishly, you don’t want that to be the case.

Selflessly, you will respect it if it is.

“Baby.” Joel halts in his tracks, stopping you too. He turns to face you, the familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing as he looks at you with worry. “Look, I know you well enough by now, darlin’. I know that you’ve got somethin’ on your mind. Talk to me, sweet girl.”

You hesitate.

“I just wish our night didn’t have to end like this—I wish none of our nights together ended like this. It has to be one of the worst feelings in the world to have to say goodbye to you and go back to—” You stop yourself from uttering his name. Shaking your head, you look up at Joel and frown. “It isn’t fair, Joel. None of this is fucking fair.”

“Oh believe me, I fuckin’ know it ain’t fair.” Joel chuckles in spite of himself. His laugh comes from his own bitterness over the fact that you now have to go back home and lay in bed with Luke. Joel drops your hand from his and he takes a step or two back to put some distance between the two of you. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shakes his head, his lips pressed into a tight line.

Your stomach sinks slightly. There it is. The beginning of the end.

The moment he realizes he does deserve better.

“Joel? What is it?”

“You should be comin’ home with me,” he states, his dark eyes fixed on the dirt road as he speaks. “You should be comin’ home with me. Not goin’ home to him. And I don’t just mean tonight. I’m talkin’ ‘bout every night.”

Disappointment laces his tone.

Warm tears brim your eyes and you try your hardest to blink them back. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel.”

His head snaps up and he frowns. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“Sorry for what, peach?”

“For this.” You make a gesture between the two of you with one of your hands. The other clutches his flannel blanket that is still draped around your shoulders. “I’m so fucking sorry that I dragged you into something like this.” “Timeout. What the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?” He approaches you, quickly closing up the very same gap of space he’d created himself. He gingerly cups your face between his hands. “I ain’t all too sure what’s goin’ in that pretty little head of yours, sweet girl, but I need you to know that you sure as hell didn’t drag me into anythin’ at all.”

You scoff, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “Joel, you’re having an affair with me. You’re having an affair with a married woman. You’re sneaking around in the middle of night, risking your neck for just a couple of hours with me.”

“And that’s my fuckin’ choice,” he reminds you.

You swallow harshly, inwardly cursing the way a stubborn tear slips out of the corner of your eye and rolls down the side of your face.

“Sweetheart, I’m here ‘cause I wanna be here,” Joel assures you, delicately wiping it away with his thumb. “I’m here ‘cause I lov—”

He stops abruptly, his eyes widening slightly.

They’re there, right on the tip of his tongue.

Those three words.

He’d been so close to uttering those three fucking words and for some reason, he lost the nerve at the very last second

“Baby—” He trails off, unsure of what to say or do next.

Joel leaves those three words unspoken, but you don’t let it take away from the moment. You know what he feels for you—you see it in his dark brown eyes when he looks at you, feel it in the way he touches you and kisses you. You’d felt it when he made you his.

You know exactly what Joel Miller feels for you. And you feel the same for him. It only makes the whole ordeal even fucking harder.

After a minute or two, Joel speaks again. “I’m choosin’ this,” he reassures you again. “Alright?”

“But why? Why choose this when you can have an actual relationship with somebody else?”

“‘Cause I don’t want somebody else, that’s why.”

“But Joel—”

Joel’s hands hold your face firmly, but he’s still gentle.

“I don’t want somebody else,” he repeats. “I only want you, so I’m gonna keep on choosin’ this. Day in and day out, I’m gonna choose this because it’s worth it to me. You’re worth it to me.”

“But this isn’t fair to you,” you whisper, another tear sliding down the side of your face. Just like the first, he wipes this one away too. “Joel, you deserve someone you can be with. Someone who you can have a normal relationship with, not one that you have to hide. Think about Ellie—”

“Ellie fuckin’ adores you,” Joel reminds you. “More than you probably even know. Hell, all the kid ever does is talk ‘bout how fuckin’ great you are. Makes me think she likes you better than she likes me.”

Under different and less tense circumstances, you would have laughed at his statement.

“And I adore her too. But she deserves to have a real family, Joel.” You hear your own voice break slightly as an image of her face appears in your mind. You’d never imagined that you would be able to care for anyone this much ever again, not after losing your father. And now here you are, realizing that both Joel and Ellie mean the absolute world to you and you want what is best for them. “You two deserve so much more than what I can give you. Don’t you see that?”

He sighs. “Ellie knows ‘bout us, peach.” Upon seeing the shocked expression on your face, he adds, “Don’t ask me how, I just know that she does. She’s too goddamn smart for her own good and I know that she’s just waitin’ for the right moment to confront me ‘bout it. Or you. So consider this your warnin’ because it’s comin’,” he remarks. “I also know that if it ain’t you in our lives, she ain’t gonna have it.”

Joel drops his hands from your face and seeks yours. He finds them and laces your fingers together.

“She doesn’t want anyone else around and neither do I, alright? I’m never gonna want anyone else,” he declares. “Even if this is how things have to be for the rest of my natural born fuckin’ life. I just don’t care.”

“But—”

Joel rolls his eyes and crashes his mouth against yours, silencing you. His tongue brushes along the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart and he deepens the embrace. He has the burning desire to drag you right back into the barn, has every urge to rip your clothes off, and fuck each and every last single one of your doubts away. He would gladly spend hours upon hours showing you that he means it when he says you are the only woman he wants, devote every minute of every night you have together to prove to you that his heart belongs to you and only you.

He pulls back after a minute, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath and you catch yours.

“Listen to me, peach. I’ll fuckin’ say it untill I’m blue in the fuckin’ face—I don’t want anybody else but you. It doesn’t matter to me that we’ve gotta run around in secret. I want you and I’ll take you any way that I can get you. I don’t care if I get two minutes with you or two hours. As long as I get to see you, my sweet girl. That’s all that fuckin’ matters to me. Alright?”

You release the breath you’d been holding.

“Joel?”

“What is it, baby?”

“How much longer until sunrise?”

“‘Bout an hour or so.” Joel cocks an eyebrow at you, curiously. “Why do you ask?”

Biting your lower lip, you nod over towards the barn in the distance.

“Seriously?” he stares at you in complete disbelief at what you’re suggesting, but you notice the way that the corners of his mouth start to turn upwards into a grin. “Let me get this straight. We just had sex for the first time an hour ago and now you want a fuckin’ quickie? That it?”

You shrug and step away from him.

“Well, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Just as you start off in the original direction you two had been heading in, Joel reaches out for you and catches your hand, yanking you back towards him.

“Fuckin’ naughty girl.” Joel lets out a loud, strained grunt as he hoists you over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You giggle as he starts back towards the barn.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller series #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo #fic: ash #fic: a safe haven

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 27 - "I don't know if they will accept this."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Started writing this yesterday and finished it during lunch break today. So I decided to take a break tomorrow and post this early :D

Danny nervously poked his scrambled eggs as he sunk just a little lower in his chair. His eyes flicked back and forth between all of his new siblings that were currently in a heated discussion not noticing his slow withdrawal from the discussion and acting like he really didn't want to get noticed by them.

"Have you seen Mister Freeze's new sidekick? The white haired one that's probably a Meta with ice powers?"

"You mean Wraith?"

"Wait, I thought the kid was Ivy's sidekick? He helped blow up a facility last week!"

"No, no, no, no! Isn't he with Scarecrow?! I am sure he accidentally screwed up with the Fear Gas ten days ago so no one go harmed! But Scarecrow screamed at him that being new to the job wasn't an excuse."

"Didn't he help Catwoman steal two artifacts a couple days ago? One of them wasn't cat themed though I am pretty sure he was with her that time…"

"Wasn't he also the kid that was with Joker the last time he broke out? You know the white haired kid that was forced to assist him and tripped him right into his own trap and made the whole arrest a lot easier and quicker than usually?"

"It's like the kid switches who's sidekick he is every week…"

"Maybe he is interning with villains before breaking off to do his own thing? We better keep an eye on him."

Danny sank just a little bit lower in his chair and avoided looking at Alfred. Of course Danny knew about his new family's night time jobs, well day time in Duke's case, but when they had asked him if he wanted to take part in it he had declined. They didn't know about his second form, they only thought of him as a Meta with ghost powers that just escaped a horrible situation and now wanted a quiet and somewhat normal life. So they had accepted his decline in going into hero work, especially Alfred and Bruce appeared to be most relieved and happy about that decision at first.

But what Danny hadn't told them was that he might have declined going back into hero work, that didn't mean he would stay completely out of that side of his new family's life. The half ghost hadn't planned on it but it had all started with him accidentally coming across Poison Ivy. She reminded him of Sam in her values, so before his brain was able to catch up Danny asked if she wanted help blowing a facility that was pumping toxic waste into the water. Years of helping Sam with organizing activist protests did that to his brain.

One thing led to another and somehow Danny found himself more often than he liked in his phantom form acting as a sidekick or assistant to the rogues this family was fighting. In a way Danny felt like he was now more of an anti-hero than a hero, still fulfilling his obsession of protecting by finding creative ways to foil the rogues' plans if they get too dangerous or murderous but not really doing the whole righteous hero stick either.

Plus by working with Mister Freeze and Scarecrow at times he also gets to fully live out the mad scientist side of his brain. With them especially he gets to create whatever his weird wired brain could come up with, though, he did 'accidentally' leave behind USBs or papers with his inventions for Tim to find at the crime scenes.

What his new brother did with them was none of his business. If the Bats and Birds suddenly had new equipment in their arsenal that looked eerily similar to his inventions than that was that.

The problem was… his new family probably wouldn't like or accept that kind of turn of events. They were righteous and defenders of justice with moral codes and standards, Danny wasn't sure he could fulfill at the moment. Watching his new siblings arguing back and forth about Wraith, his new anti-hero alias Selina, Harley and Ivy had come up with, made his stomach sink every morning. In fact Danny was getting more and more scared with the passing days that his new family would kick him out the moment they learned about it just like his former parents had done.

He wished he had Jazz's contact to talk this over with her, but because of his situation Bruce found it better to wait a little longer before he could safely reach out to her. Maybe he could ask if Harley could talk with him instead.

A cup of tea was placed before him and Danny's head snapped up (when had he started to look down?) to find Alfred smiling calmly at him. "Master Daniel, I believe a nice cup of tea will help calm down your nerves."

"Thanks." Danny mumbled his hands cupping the cup and letting the warmth of it seep over his hands into his arms to comfort his nerves. He took a sip, eyes going wide for a moment before he looked over to Alfred who was currently taking away Tim's third cup of unfinished coffee while the other was distracted with the ongoing discussion. The old man gave him a knowing smile and Danny couldn't help the small grateful one that formed on its own, though he also couldn't help the slight feeling that Alfred knew what was frazzling Danny's nerves so much.

"Jason, maybe you can get into contact with Wraith?"

"Why the fuck should I?"

"You have a different reputation than us as Red Hood. He might be more willing to talk with you, to figure out his motives and such."

Danny choked on his tea, hurriedly placing the cup back on the table before pounding his own chest in a desperate attempt to get any tea that went down the airpipe out.

"Danny! Are you okay?" Dick was instantly on him, worried older brother vibes and all that.

He wheezed before breathing in relief once he stopped coughing, giving the oldest a barely hearable "I'm fine."

"<tt> Try not to die stupidly like this, Fenton." Damian clicked his tongue and Danny gave him a toothy grin.

"I am already half dead." He heard Jason snort. While the family thought Danny was just a Meta with ghost-like powers. Danny had explained his accident to them and how he died and revived with powers through it when they asked him why he was insisting through jokes that he was half dead. Jason and Dick were the only ones who really enjoyed his death related jokes and puns, the others were more worried about his mental state.

"Leave the death jokes to Todd, Fenton."

"Oh come on, don't ghost me like that! My jokes are just as much to die for then his are!"

"Fenton."

Danny just laughed, while the previous discussion made him fear for the future, he still loved the family he had gotten added into by sheer luck. He had come to quickly love them all and felt like his own weirdness fit perfectly into theirs. It truly made him hope that he could stay with them for a long time and maybe even add Jazz into the picture as well once his whole situation was more secured and Bruce would allow him to contact her and his friends.

Later that day Danny was in the library reading a book on Molecular Structure of the human biology and how it can mutate depending on external influence, as a preparation for his next endeavor as Wraith with Killer Croc, when he felt tapping on his shoulder.

Turning his head slightly Danny startled finding Cassandra in his personal space sitting next to him with a mirthful smile. She gave him a small wave as a greeting before sitting back a little, apparently satisfied with the fact that she sort of scared him there a little.

"Hey Cass." He smiled, putting one of the many bookmarks, Jason had distributed and stored away everywhere in an effort to stop his siblings from creating dog ears in books, on the page he was on before closing the book in his hands.

"You worry too much, relax." She signed with a reassuring smile once Danny had turned his full attention on her. Confused, the half ghost on the other hand tilted his head, puzzled about what Cass was going on about. He did feel rather relaxed right now.

"You being Wraith." Wide eyed Danny hurried to cover Cassandra's hands, like one would cover another's mouth if they blurred out a secret. His eyes hurriedly darted around in their surroundings but aside from the shelves filled with books Danny couldn't see nor sense anyone that might listen in on them.

Cass was shaking in silent laughter as Danny nervously turned back to look at her. "How…"

Slowly she freed her hands from his and patted them comfortingly before beginning to sign again, smiling knowingly. "I saw. Your body language is the same."

"I…" How was he going to explain this? He had gotten found out, was Cass going to tell him to leave now? Was this the end of his new found family life? It came sooner than he anticipated. Blankly he stared at his hands that uselessly lay in his lap on the book cover, one hand slowly moving to nervously trace unseen patterns on the books spine.

Danny did not see how Cass frowned at that action, all mirth gone from her smiles. She did not like her brother was drawing into himself, doubt and fear started to radiate from his body language and Cassander didn't like that even more. She moved a little closer, so that she would have an easier time to reach Danny and poked his cheek mercilessly until her little brother looked back up at her.

"No need to explain." She actually spoke instead of sign just to show Danny how serious she was. "It's fine. Funny even. Like Selina."

"But…" A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed, trying to find the right words. Cass waited patiently for him. "Mom and Dad… my former parents… they didn't accept me as a ghost hero…"

Cassandra nodded but didn't sign nor say anything, seeing that there was more her newest little brother wanted to say but still trying to find the right words for. It was something she could relate to. Unable to find the right words, hadn't she been through that before too. She lay a comforting hand down on Danny's shoulder, once more waiting patiently.

"I… I don't know if they will accept this… this turn of events. Especially in this family. You all are taking the Hero route and I…" Danny swallowed once more. "I can stop, I can change. I just don't… I don't want to lose another family…"

Before Danny knew what was happening he was enveloped in a warm hug, he blinked several times before realizing that Cass was hugging him tightly. He was held like this for a while before she drew back from him, poking him once more to make him look at her once more.

"No need. Don't stop." She spoke her voice, soft and smoothing while smiling at him brightly.

"But…" She shook her head, silencing whatever Danny wanted to say before giving him a mischievous smile, her hands letting go of his shoulder so sign her next words. "You are not hurting anyone, you keep them from killing, from being too dangerous to civilians, not really breaking any big laws. You help us in your own law breaking way. Like Jason does."

"I am not as good as him…" Danny mumbled still unsure but Cass only smiled fondly ruffling her little brother's hair.

"You started to smile more since you became Wraith." She flat out told him, causing Danny to look up at her stunned and she laughed silently. "Keep going. If you go too far, I will be there to pull you back."

"You're like Jazz…" Danny mumbled, finally with a little smile on his face and Cass returned it with a satisfying one of her own before pulling him in for another hug, he returned this time.

That night, Orphan watched happily how her little brother laughed carefree and freer than he had in a month sitting on Killer Croc shoulders, testing out his newest invention while the rogue was trying to get him off, unsuccessfully so far. Her other brothers surrounded the two and tried to figure out what was going on since Wraith was supposed to be their rogues gallery sidekick and not challenge them like that.

She laughed even when suddenly out of nowhere a USB-Stick hit Red Robin in the face. Obviously she had caught Wraith flinging it in his direction, but she was not about to tell them that. Orphan would let them figure that out on their own, meanwhile she was going to enjoy watching her newest little brother smile and laugh while being the chaos gremlin she had seen in him from day one as he was messing with the rogues as well as vigilantes / heroes of Gotham.

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multifandomlover01 · 1 month

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Not Some Innocent Kid

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Based on @reidswhore post about “innocent” Spencer vs. not so innocent Spencer and fic semi-requested by @reiderrambles

Warnings: 18+ MDNI fairly neutral dynamic but sub!reader and soft!dom Spencer if you wanted to label it, Derek talking about his “conquests”, teasing Spencer about being inexperienced, loss of virginity mention, mention of reader “not being a screamer”, orgasm denial mentioned, overstimulating mentioned, neck nibbling/kissing, orgasm denial depicted, reader screaming, condom mentioned, no birth control mentioned, affectionate sex, lots of terms of endearment used, slightly insecure Spencer, praise kink, slightly OOC Derek, slightly OOC Spencer

Summary: While Derek is talking about a woman he recently slept with, he makes a comment about her and then about Spencer (and his inexperience with women and pleasure), causing Spencer to get lost in a daydream that directly contradicted what Derek just said (Spencer is very capable of bringing a woman pleasure)

WC: ~1.2k

Disclaimer: not the most polished or finished it could be but…here we are lol screw dialogue tags…who needs them? (Me…I need them)

Gif not necessarily indicative of timeline placement…but it’s an estimate

Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up, Derek.

Spencer thought this but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Derek was going on and on about how great he was in bed and took every opportunity to tease Spencer about how virginal he seemed. But Spencer was far from a virgin. Not long after he’d turned 24, he’d lost his virginity to his equally as quiet and reserved team member. No one would have suspected, least of all the two of them, that the dam would break that night for them and they’d be insatiable for each other.

They couldn’t stop. Every private moment was spent together mostly naked with their hands and lips all over each other.

“Yeah, I had her screaming my name. Bet you don’t know what that’s like, do you, kid? Well…your time will come.” Derek teased him.

Spencer suppressed a smirk as he thought of the most recent intimate encounter with his friend with benefits…or lover…or partner (he wasn’t quite sure what they were if he was being honest).

“You like that, baby? You like it when I don’t show you mercy? When I use you like a little toy?” Spencer husked into your ear as his hips snapped into you from behind as he had you on your hands and knees on the bed while he supported you with an arm around your middle and his hand on your hip. He had found sexual encounters with you to be rather liberating. You trusted him completely and he cared about you a lot. He’d never hurt you. But this dynamic really allowed him to exercise a degree of control over and with another person that he didn’t really have anywhere else in his life. The degree of control he had over his mother was not voluntary although he took that just as seriously as he took this.

“Y-yes.” You whimpered.

“Say my name, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it.” The hand on your hip snaked around to rub at your already sensitive clit.

“S-Spencer.” You say breathily.

He gives your clit a little slap.

“Louder, hon. Let me get my first noise complaint from old Mrs. Davis across the hall. She’s always going on about how respectful and quiet I am. Just like Derek goes on about how much of a kid I still am. I’m sick of it. Aren’t I good enough, darling? Can’t I make you scream and cum for me?”

He rubs your clit faster as he snaps his hips faster.

“I dunno…I’m not-”

“A screamer. I know, angel. But maybe we can change that, huh? I’ve made you cum before. I’ll do it again. I’ll do it better. I’ll make you feel so good.” Despite him being slightly dominant right now, he was almost pleading with you to meet him half way.

“I-I’ll try.”

“I know you will, sweetie, I know you will. You’re so good for me.” He buries his face in your neck to press kisses to it, hoping to add to the sensations you were feeling.

He picks up the pace of his hips and his fingers, rubbing your clit in circles.

“I wanna try something, honey. Will you let me try something?” He murmurs against your ear, having kissed his way up to it..

“Y-yeah…what do you wanna try?”

“Can I deny you your orgasm? Can you be my good girl and cum when I tell you to? Not before? Maybe that’ll make it feel better. I know it’s different for every woman but I’ve read that it can make it feel better.” He says, again seeming a bit desperate now, willing to do anything to enhance this experience for himself and for his partner.

“I…I can try. You can try to overstimulate me if you’d like.” You offered, also trying to pitch ideas that could help the experience.

“One thing at a time, love. One thing at a time.”

“Ok…One thing…orgasm denial.”

“One thing…orgasm denial.” He agrees. “If that doesn’t work…then we can try overstimulation.”

“Ok…that sounds good.”

“Yeah? Good.”

Once you two were in agreement, effort was put back into achieving pleasure. Spencer continued to snap his hips against yours (for a skinny guy who didn’t work out, he sure had a good amount of stamina). His fingers continued to work at your clit. Your warm and soft walls suck his cock in like it’s afraid to let it leave the sanctuary.

“Remember, love, you’re not allowed to cum until I say you can. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” He rasps in your ear.

“Y-yeah…I can do that. I can try.”

“Good girl. Tell me when you’re close so I can delay it just a bit. It won’t be long, I promise.”

With the way his cock is hitting just the right spot inside you, the way his fingers are working your clit, and the way he’s nibbling your neck lightly all combine to help you get close to the edge.

“Spence…I-I’m close, baby.” You pant lightly.

“Hmm…yeah? Don’t cum yet, ok?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Ok…I won’t. I won’t until you tell me to.”

“That’s my good girl. It won’t be too torturous, I promise.” He increases the pace of his fingers on your clit and his thrusts are deep and calculated but not feral. They are a nice even pace that’s not too overwhelmingly fast.

Your whines and whimpers increase as your legs shake. “S-Spencer…I…I can’t…”

“You can. You will, love. You can do it. I believe in you. Just a little longer, ok? Not too much longer.” He lovingly rubs his nose against your neck as he picks up his thrust pace just a bit, going just as deep as he continues to rub your clit at an increased pace.

“Spence…please.” Your voice raises in pitch.

“Few more seconds, hon. Just a few more seconds.”

You could almost cry with how much pleasure you’re feeling.

“Sp-“ you go to say again, your voice slightly increasing in volume.

“Now.” He commands.

Your body obeys him without you having to do anything. It just…lets go.

“Oh my god, Spencer, fuck!” You shout, a lot louder than intended. You cling to him as you shake.

“That’s what I’m doing, sweetness.” You can’t see his smirk but you can feel it against your neck as he continues to work you through your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before he’s emptying his load into the condom. He pants against your neck as he peppers it with kisses.

“Do you know…what you…just did for me, darling?” He slowly pulls out of you.

“Screamed louder than I should’ve?” You chuckle softly.

“Besides that.”

“Besides that?”

“Mhm…besides that.”

“N-no…what?”

“Look at the condom, hon.”

“‘M too…tired.”

He chuckles. “It’s soaked, love. I think you squirted over it a bit.”

“Wha-? Really?”

“Mhm. You did such a great job for me, love.”

“Kid…hey, Reid!” Derek waves in front of Spencer’s face.

“You still with us? You looked a little spaced out.” JJ states, chuckling slightly.

“I’m fine. I just zoned out after Morgan related his fifth conquest in a week to us.”

“Do you have something you’d like to talk about, then?” Derek scoffs.

“No.” Spencer says simply, shaking his head.

“You will one day, kid. You will one day.”

“‘M not a kid.” Spencer mutters. You and he share a quick glance and a small smirk.

“Oh? You’re not? You got any spicy stories to tell?”

“Maybe one day…when I think you can handle it.”

“Ooh…ok, ok.”

#Spencer Reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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itsgxsly · 7 months

Text

-F1 DRIVERS AS BOOK TROPES

Max Verstappen as “from hate to love”

You loved your job. It was your dream since you were little to be able to work in the world of Formula 1. So when, after many years studying and doing minor jobs, the Red Bull team offered you a position as a press officer with them, you didn't doubt your response. You were going to work for one of the best teams on the grid with a good salary. Basically you were going to live among cars and tires traveling from country to country. It sounded like a true paradise.

Although thanks to Max Verstappen it had almost become hell.

You didn't even understand what you had done to him to make him hate you so much. During your first days working with him everything had gone well between the two of you, you could even have a decent conversation. But after a few months of working with him, his attitude had completely changed, to the point that the only thing he directed at you were bad looks and unpleasant words. At that time, his way of treating you had hurt you, because you would say that you had developed a little crush on the Dutch driver.

At first you had tried to understand him, the world of F1 was tiring at times and could affect the drivers, but when the only reaction you received from Max when trying to be nice were bad answers, you too reached your limit. You didn't remember when your breaking moment had been, but now you knew that you tried to hate Red Bull's golden boy the same way he hated you. You put that stupid crush aside and stuck to doing your job, also putting aside any attempt to get close to him.

Max had noticed how you had begun to distance yourself in some way, no longer trying to greet him in the mornings in the paddock or trying to encourage him so that he wouldn't hate going to interviews and press conferences so much.

He was an asshole and he knew it was his fault.

Max hated you. But he didn't hate you because he didn't like you or because you did something to him. In reality it was quite the opposite. Max hated you because he wasn't able to understand how you could attract him so much. He didn't know if they were those smiles so bright that they almost made him fall to his knees and that now he never saw anymore. Or as always you were attentive to what he needed even though that wasn't even your job.

To be honest with himself, Max hated the fact that he didn't really hate you at all. And he had screwed up.

Plus, to top it off, Max had screwed up even more today. It seemed like every time he thought about trying to change something with you it made him do some horrible gesture that the Dutchman scolded himself for later.

He didn't want to drop his troubles and his bad mood on you. In anyone's eyes his career hadn't been the least bit bad. For God's sake, he had come second.

But that definitely didn't work for his father, so when Max, who was already disappointed for not having won, saw his father's face when he got out of the car, not even the congratulations of his team or the double podium could change how his sour mood. And you were the one who had to suffer it first hand.

When you approached him about to lead him to the post-race interviews, you already knew you were going to be a tough sell today.

“Max” you said his name as you followed him. He was already late for interviews and you know he doesn't hate leading to a fine that he wouldn't make the team happy.

"Max!" Your scream stopped him and he turned sharply to you.

"What?" His voice sounded sharper than you had ever heard before.

"You have to go to the interviews" you were exhausted from repeating the same phrase that he already knew by heart.

"Screw the fucking interviews." With that he turned and followed the path to his pilot's room. You followed him without thinking twice.

“Hey, listen to me. I know you're not having the best day of your life, but you have to go through the interviews. If only to give reporters dirty looks. Do it and that's all for today."

"Yeah. And I'll just have to listen to how they repeat my father's face over and over again for having lost the race,” he complained, plopping down on the couch in his room while he ran his hand over his forehead.

“Come on Max, you can't even call it losing. You came second. It's a good result ”you claimed him without fully understanding the reason for his mood. You thought you knew more or less here the issue was going, but if he didn't speak you weren't going to get involved.

"Yeah, my father clearly doesn't think so" he looked at you letting out a sarcastic smile before covering his face with his hands again.

You let out a defeated sigh. In the years that you knew Max you had been able to see that his father's opinion was very valuable to him and, in your opinion, Jos Verstappen was a real idiot who did not know how to value his son.

Seeing Max's defeated figure, something that you considered empathy entered your body, so you walked over to sit next to the Dutchman, leaving a small space between you. Max uncovered his face and looked at you when he noticed your closeness. You let him be the one to decide if he wanted you to leave or not, and after he hesitated for a moment, he seemed to decide on the last option.

Slowly, Max brought his body closer to yours, closing the little space that was left, and hugged you. At first it was a little tense and uncomfortable, especially because of your surprise, but then you let yourself relax and hugged the boy a little tighter, letting him rest his head in the space between your shoulder and your neck.

“Thank you” was Max who spoke. His voice sounded weird from having his face hidden in your shoulder.

“Wow. I think it's the first time in all these years I've heard you say that.” Even though it was a joke, there was a bit of pain in your tone.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no right to treat you badly all these time” Max apologized. He didn't know if it was because of the vulnerability of the moment or because he was too lost in the smell of your perfume, but maybe now was his time to fix things.

"Do not worry, everything is fine. But I would appreciate it if you stop being a headache every time you have interviews" you reproached him.

Max laughed and his laughter tickled your skin. You realized then that you hadn't separated yet, but you were comfortable and it didn't seem like Max had any intention of separating from you either. You would have to have a long talk with Christian about why his driver hadn't appeared at any conference.

You remained silent for a while longer until Max spoke again.

“Can I take you on a date? You know, to make up for how I've behaved this time…” his voice sounded more doubtful as he finished the sentence.

“If you promise me that you are going to attend all your appointments without complaining, and that you are going to tell Christian that it is your fault that neither of us are doing our job right now, I might think about it.”

"Deal"

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #f1 fandom #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33

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sebastianstanisahotmf · 7 months

Text

Office sex

Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

A/N hey guys I'm re-posting all my fics. Also comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated xoxo

18+ MINORS FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH (I WARNED YOU)

Summary bucky comes to visit you at work and you get it on

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APP/SITE THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR

Warnings fluff and Unprotected sex (use protection because you're not fictional)

It was just one of those days. Not only had you overslept but you were late for work and your boss had decided to give you extra paperwork to fill in (as if you didn’t already have enough). You spent every second until your lunch brake completing your work and decided to come back to it after eating your lunch. You reached into your bag and that’s when you realised you had forgotten your lunch. Great. Luckily your boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t on a mission so you could call him. You picked up your phone and clicked on his contact.

“Hey doll aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he questioned sounding worried.

“Don’t worry. I am. I just forgot to pick my lunch up this morning so please could you bring it in for me?”

Bucky chuckled, “anything for you doll.”

“hey its not funny.” You tried to sound angry but you couldn’t ever be angry at Bucky.

“whatever you say doll” Bucky replied with a smile on his face. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“Thank you babe, you’re a life saver. ”

You put the phone down and took a deep breath. Your day had been very stressful and forgetting your lunch had just made it worse.

Whilst you were waiting for Bucky your boss came into your office with a scowl on her face.

“Miss L/N why aren’t you doing your

work?” she questioned bitterly.

You were startled and just stared at her for a second before replying. “I’m on my lunch break but I’ll carry on after.”

“it doesn’t even look like you’ve done any work.” She said while shaking her head.

“I have I put all my completed work in that pile over there” you pointed trying to stop your hand from shaking.

“well it doesn’t look like you’ve done much at all. I expect the rest of the work to be done by the end of the day or I will have to issue you with a written warning. This business can’t afford to lose customers and money because of lazy people like you. Do you understand me?” she said sharply.

“y-y-yes I understand. It will all be on your desk by the end of the day.” You stuttered trying to stop yourself from crying.

“good” your boss said as she stormed out of the room.

Luckily a few seconds later Bucky had texted you to say that he’s outside. You quickly picked up your jacket and practically ran out of your office.

Bucky’s smile fell as he saw the look on your face.

“what happened doll?” he asked, worried.

“it’s nothing really. My boss just told me off like I was a child and called me lazy for not doing enough work and I’m sure everyone heard.” That’s when it happened. The floodgates had opened and how you were sobbing into Bucky’s chest.

“Oh doll. I’m so sorry” he said wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault” you replied.

“come on, let’s get you inside so you can eat and calm down.” Bucky grabbed your hand and walked you to your office.

He sat down in the spare seat you had and put your lunch on your desk.

“Thanks Buck”

Bucky smiled, “you’re welcome doll. And anyways you can’t say I’m the only unorganised one in this relationship now”

You smiled back “it’s one time. And besides you would forget your head of it wasn’t screwed on”

You and Bucky talked while you ate your lunch.

After a while, you asked Bucky to check the time. You still had 25 minutes of your lunch break left.

Bucky looked at you with a mischievous grin on his face.

“why are you giving me that look ” you asked.

“I think we should make the most of the last 25 minutes of your lunch break” Bucky replied.

“James Buchanan Barnes I am not having sex with you while I’m at work.” You replied knowing its not the first time you have had sex at work.

“you act like we’ve never done it before” Bucky said with a grin on his face.

“I swear if we get caught I’m blaming you.” You replied smiling back.

Only now had you noticed the wetness that had formed between your legs. Soaking through your panties.

You walk over to Bucky and sit in his lap. He grabs your ass while leaning in to kiss you. It was like fireworks were going off in your stomach every time you kissed Bucky. His soft lips and talented tongue.

You started to grind down on his hard member which elicited a moan from the both of you. You pulled away from the kiss and started to unbutton Bucky’s trousers. You pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and started to stroke it up and down while also twisting your hand when you got to the sensitive head.

Just as you were about to kneel on the ground Bucky stopped you.

“as much as I like to fuck your throat doll. I love fucking your pussy more.” He said as he picked you up and placed you on your desk.

He started to kiss you and make his way down your neck making sure to leave marks that show his love for you. He made his way back to your lips as he started to unbutton your trousers and stroke your pussy through your panties. He grabbed your panties and trousers and stared to pull them down your legs.

Once they were off he pounced on you. His lips met yours in a battle for dominance that he always won. He circled a finger around your entrance and just as he was about to push it in you stopped him.

He gave you a concerned look. “sorry doll did I got too far. We can stop if you want to.” He said stroking your outer thigh with his metal hand.

“You didn’t go too far babe. I just need your fat cock in my pussy right now. I’m wet enough I promise. I just need you Bucky” you said looking him in the eyes.

Bucky chuckled. “you sure do know how to sweet talk me doll.”

He lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed in. His lips were back on yours in a matter of seconds to muffle the moans you both let out. As he started to thrust into you. His hand reached down to play it your clit.

As soon as his hand reached your bundle of nerves, you let out a moan that could only be described as pornographic. Bucky smiled and carried on his ministrations on your clit.

“you feel so good around my cock baby” Bucky said breathlessly. “so good. So so good”

You grabbed Bucky’s face and brought it to yours. You started kissing him fiercely as if it was the last time you were ever going to get the chance to.

“Baby I’m so close” you moaned breaking the kiss.

“is there anything else you need baby” Bucky asked his baby blue eyes almost black with lust.

“I need your metal hand on my clit. Please baby. Please!” you moaned.

“you can have anything you want if you beg that nicely.” Bucky said while grunting. He replaced his normal hand with his metal one. And kissed you once again only this time it was more teeth and tongue than the last ones. This kiss was pure passion.

Then it happened. Your legs started to shake and you let out a moan (luckily it was muffled by the kiss) and then you came.

The pulsing of your pussy was the last push for Bucky before he stilled inside you and pumped his seed into your awaiting body while collapsing on top of you. You stayed there for a few minutes before you realised you had to get back to work.

You let out a chuckle and said “we have got to stop doing this. One day were gonna get caught.”

“but that’s the fun of it doll” Bucky replied.

He removed his soft cock from inside you and tucked it back into his boxers before doing his trousers up as well.

You stood up on wobbly legs and pulled your panties and trousers up. Bucky let out a moan knowing you were going to sit in your office for the rest of the day with his seed dripping out of you.

“well I should get back to work” you said while sorting your hair out.

“ok doll I’ll see you later” he gave you a kiss on your lips and then one on your cheek before he left.

@buckys-wintersoldier @nicoline1998enilocin

#Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes #Bucky barnes x reader fluff #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Fluff #Smut #Mcu #Marvel #James bucky barnes #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes fluff #James bucky barnes x reader #James bucky barnes x reader fluff #James bucky barnes smut #James bucky barnes x reader smut #James bucky barnes fluff #reader instert

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moni-logues · 11 months

Text

Kintsugi 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.1k

Content: none! there is no content lmaooo nah there is just none that needs to be warned for, I don't think, so enjoy freely!!!!!

A/N: I know, I know, it's taken an age but here we are!! And I'm honestly kind of nervous to see how people react!!!! huge thank you to my betas @blog-name-idk @amethystwritesbts and @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

Chapter Four – Someone Old, Someone New

The message came in shortly after lunch.

Mei.97: hey girl! Long time no see!!! I’m going to be in Seoul this week, pleeeeaaasse tell me you’re free for dinner tomorrow?!!? It’s been too long!!! Xxx

You had to read the message twice to be sure you were reading it right. You hadn’t heard from Mei—an old university friend—since your first ‘breakdown’. You wondered what on earth she could want. But you weren’t in any position to be turning down an outreached hand.

You: sure! It would be great to see you!

A few months ago, that would have been a huge lie. Now, it was only a little one. You weren’t looking forward to having to smooth over the details of your breakdown, or your break-up, but you had been close as students and it would be easier with her—she moved back to Busan after graduating, so you could put a little bit of the blame for your losing contact on that, too. You knew you weren’t quite there yet, but you felt like you were healing, you were making progress; you sometimes even felt, on occasion, pretty good about life. And you wanted to share that.

The first thing you heard upon walking into the bar you had suggested was the loud screech of your name. Then Mei was running over. You had barely even noticed her before she was wrapping her long arms around you in a huge hug. Her hair was as long and silky as it had ever been; she was still wearing the same perfume she always used to wear, and too much of it, as she always had; she looked almost exactly the same, except a little richer, a little chicer, like someone who had truly settled into themselves. She outshone the whole restaurant and looked as if she didn’t notice, as she always used to. The real world didn’t seem to have dimmed any of her at all. You were pleased with yourself that this didn’t make you completely sick with envy.

“Girl, oh my god, it is so good to see you! You look amazing! I can’t believe it; you’ve barely changed! Love the hair, though,” she announced to basically the whole bar.

You’d forgotten that she was possibly the only person in the world who was louder and talked more than you did. You’d forgotten how much you liked her. You had no need to be nervous, you realised, because it would never occur to her to judge someone; she just wasn’t that sort of person because she wouldn’t even have the time for it. She was more than just a rolling stone: this rolling stone had an engine and jet fuel.

“I ordered a bottle of wine because I wasn’t sure if you were still into the same drinks and I figured, wine is a safe option, right? You want some?” she asked but she was already pouring into your glass. “Tell me everything, babe. It has been so long. What is up?”

You took a deep breath. Where to start?

You marvelled at how painless the night had been. It was fun. Somehow, despite all the discussion you’d had about your life since university, your life now, it wasn’t painful. Not really. Mei was single, too, and courting every man in Busan before her parents tightened the screws on her to settle down. She was enjoying working for the family business (if a corporation can be called merely a ‘business’). She was earning a salary that made you wince and made her promise dinner was on her. You were doing reasonably well in your career, too, actually. You were earning enough to live in Seoul on your own. Things weren’t perfect, but Mei was such a positive and enthusiastic steam-roller that she made you feel like you were thriving, not wilting. She was exactly what you needed.

You were just wishing that she didn’t have to leave Seoul, that she could move and stay forever when she took her ice-cream spoon from her mouth and looked sheepishly at her empty bowl.

“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I had a teeny ulterior motive for asking you to dinner.”

Your stomach lurched.

“Oh?”

“You remember my cousin Sungbin? He came to visit that time at uni?”

“The one we had to carry back to your room?”

“You mean the one we had to find someone else to carry back to my room?”

“Yes!” You laughed. “Yes, I remember! How could I forget?”

He was a sweet, tall drink of water who accepted every shot and drink foisted on him by his cousin and her friends until he passed out in the bar. You and Mei had dragged him through the streets of Hongdae asking every passerby if they could help you get him home. You didn’t remember who actually helped or much of the rest of the night, but that arduous 100-meter drag was almost as painful as your hangover had been the following day.

“What about him?”

“Ok, so my uncle is retiring, right? He’s still going to be on the board but he’s retiring from his actual position so, of course, Sungbin, oldest son, he’s got to step up. He's moving to the big city, girl! Taking up a position at the HQ here. My ulterior motive is me asking you a huge favour.”

“What’s the favour?”

“He doesn’t know anyone here, right? Never lived here before. Would you maybe like, take him out for drinks or lunch or something – super casual, no big deal! – just so he’s got a friendly face? Give him some recommendations for stuff, I don’t know, just so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed and on his own?”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it. Of course, you would. Of course, you would be happy to take Sungbin out, show him around, help him if he needed. You felt flattered that Mei would even ask you, that she thought you would be up to the job. That she thought of you at all, to be honest. Had you not just been thinking that you needed new friends? And now one was landing straight in your lap.

It all felt a little too good to be true. It was too easy. Things had been too easy recently; this was just too much good, surely? You weren’t used to this. It felt wrong. Made you anxious. And, usually, that anxiety made you make things worse all on your own. But your therapist had told you to stop looking for the bad, to trust the good, appreciate its presence. You could do that. Right? You could do that.

“Yeah, sure! Of course, I can take him out.”

Mei dramatically fell to the table in relief and held tight to both your arms.

“You are an angel! Thank you! Here’s the bad part, though: any chance you can do it tomorrow? I’m leaving in the morning and he’s going to be on his own for the first time since moving-”

“Oh, he’s already here?”

“Yeah! That’s why I’m here, girly! I helped him move! Any chance you’re free tomorrow?”

You didn’t know how to say yes without letting her know that you were the sort of person who had no plans at the weekend but you didn’t want to say no because you were the sort of person who had no plans, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment. You did not look into the fact that she was asking you this last-minute, assuming you would have no plans already. You shrugged.

“Yeah, I can do drinks or something tomorrow night?”

“Babe, you are my favourite person in this whole world. I’m going to give you his number; just text him. He doesn’t know anyone here so he literally has nothing better to do and I’ve already told him I’d put you guys in touch.”

From anyone else, that might have prickled a little; the assumptions might have rubbed you the wrong way, but Mei was relentlessly optimistic, having never had any real hardship in her life (she would admit to this, too), so she had never had any reason to believe that things wouldn’t go the way she expected. Far from wanting to burst her bubble, you wanted to protect her naivety. Because you wished you could have it, too.

As you walked and subwayed and walked home, you thought about Mei and her life, and your life, and how different things could be. You wondered who you would be if you weren’t so broken, if your head could just have got its shit together—rather, if your head had never gone to shit in the first place. Would you have been like Mei? Would life have found another way to break you? Were things destined or was everyone, including the universe, just making things up as they went along?

Could you ever be like Mei? Was anyone like her? Did she have secret pain?

It wasn’t lost on you, the possibility that she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as she seemed. The shock and surprise of everyone you knew when you ended up in hospital was almost the worst part. If you never heard someone say ‘I had no idea!’ again, it would be too soon. You thought about it a lot, how normal you were (or weren’t). You couldn’t believe that everyone else went through life not thinking the things you thought, that everyone else was somehow just able to get on with things without the sometimes-debilitating urge to sink into the floor forever.

You shook your head, because you knew you weren’t supposed to be thinking like this. You’d had a really fun time with an old friend and you were going to have a really fun time tomorrow with a new friend. That was all. There was no need to ruin it by overthinking and second-guessing.

You tapped a finger nervously on the bar as you sat on your stool. You used to come here a lot, or at least semi-frequently, but you hadn’t ventured into this part of the city since you moved out of the apartment you had shared with your ex. He got the apartment, so he got the neighbourhood, too.

You couldn’t really miss it, not on its own, because your life had changed dramatically after the break-up: you moved somewhere else, lost most of your friends, and stopped going out. This was really the only ‘out’ that you knew. And, crucially, it was close enough to Sungbin to become his neighbourhood, too. So here you were, tapping at the bar, staring at the door, trying not to gulp your drink and be drunk before he even arrived.

It was bright and hot and humid. It had rained solidly for three days and the water still hung in the air, clung to your skin, even as the sun tried its best to burn it away. You pressed your palm against your cold glass and tried to will yourself cooler without success. You already felt sticky with sweat and you didn’t know if that was entirely down to the weather, or if your nerves were also to blame.

You knew you didn’t have to be so nervous. What was the worst that could happen? Taehyung had, very patiently, talked you through it: all possible outcomes, all likely scenarios, best- and worst-case situations; he had reminded you that you were an adult human being who knew how to speak to other people. You did. You did know. But it had been a very long time since you had been in this situation. It wasn’t a date. Obviously, it wasn’t a date, but it was the closest you had got to one for many years; you were meeting a man, in a bar, alone. You didn’t know each other; you were hoping he would like you.

You took another gulp of your drink and repeated Taehyung’s words back to yourself. You reminded yourself of how good things were, ran through your gratitude list, tried to persuade yourself not to psych yourself out before the date (it was not a date! NOT. A. DATE.) had even begun.

You had turned from the door, realising how awkward it might be for you to have to stare at each other as he walked towards you and were now just glancing over your shoulder every single time you heard the door open. To stop it being awkward. You had done well to pace yourself and it was as you lifted your glass to your lips for another sip that you heard someone call your name. You turned and came face to face with a man you knew could not be Sungbin.

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly as you continued to drink. “I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Mei’s cousin, Sungbin.”

You gasped as you drank and it all came out in a choke and a splutter and you were blushing and fumbling to put your glass down, find a napkin, rewind time by ten seconds. The napkin came from his hand and you took your time drying your face and hands to try to will your blushes away. You were so embarrassed you could barely look at him.

And there was so much of him to look at. This was not tiny, tall drink of water Sungbin from your university days. He was huge. He must have grown at least six inches taller, not to mention wider. His biceps were the size of thighs and his thighs were almost bursting out of his skinny jeans. You didn’t know where to look.

“You can’t be Sungbin!” you cried. “You’ve got to be the guy that ate him!”

He laughed and tugged at his hair a little self-consciously.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve grown a bit.”

“A bit! You’re... You’re a hulk!”

You were off your stool and gripping his bicep before he’d even finished the sentence—your fingertips didn’t even come close to touching. You were gawking, gaping, ogling this poor man without an attempt to hide it. You gestured broadly to his entire body with your other hand and only when you looked back up did you notice the blush on his face, the awkward way he averted his gaze. You stood back and gasped again, this time without choking.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “Oh my god, that was so rude of me. I’m so sorry! What a dickhead! This is a terrible first impression for me to be making!”

“Technically, not a first impression; we have met before.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory then; I was, uh, a little worse for wear, I think.”

“A little?! We were worse for wear; you were... the worst for wear! I’m amazed you survived.”

“The joys of youth. Not sure I’d survive doing it now, just in case you had any ideas.”

“Mei and I could barely get you home then, there is no way on God’s green earth I’d be able to carry you home by myself now! I wouldn’t risk it.”

“So, we’re agreed then: both getting home in one piece?”

You lifted your glass.

“I’ll drink to that!”

You moved from one bar to the next, almost retracing steps you used to take in what felt like your former life. Sungbin paid great attention to where you were going and what else was around, cataloguing his new area, making notes for his new life. Your nerves were long gone, as were his, and you were enjoying a night out with a relative stranger as if you were a real person who did things like this: a real person who made new friends, who went out at the weekend, who had a proper life again. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really happening, that this was all really going well. Your problems felt miles away, lightyears. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal. Whole. Fixed. You made a mental note to tell your therapist.

You were on a roof terrace, carpeted with fake grass, decorated with fake flowers. Everything was clean and bright and the sun was still high in the summer sky. It was still a little too warm and a little too sticky, your glasses sweating as well as your bodies, but the lightest of breezes lifted the ends of your hair every now and then, and you couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable feeling than the soft rush of wind across your hot skin. You took seats under a white, wooden pergola where the sunlight was dappled through the fronds twisted along the frame.

This heat usually enervated you, made you lethargic and sloth-like. That night, though, sitting under fake foliage, you felt solar-powered. There was a summer spring in your step. You felt, dare you believe it, like you were glowing. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A brand new thing. A better thing. Being here, an old place, with Sungbin, a new friend, could have felt awkward, uncomfortable, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—you had expected it to—but no. You felt bigger and brighter, not smaller and duller. You were conscious of the possibility of your old life encroaching on your new one, the possibility of running into someone you used to know, but you decided to push those thoughts away. Compartmentalise them. Ignore them. You didn’t need them.

Sungbin was talking about his ex. It was an awkward break-up; they’d not been together long enough for her to move to Seoul with him, or for him to even ask her to, but it had been long enough that it felt significant, felt like throwing something away when they ended things. But he was young and he wasn’t worried. You didn’t say it out loud but you thought to yourself that a man like him surely would never have to worry: looking like he did, having the position he had, being a sweet, polite kind of guy; women would be queueing up for even a chance with him.

“I don’t really miss her that much, because there’s so much going on here that I haven’t really even had the time to. That, if nothing else, tells me it was the right decision for us.”

The words reached your ears but didn’t go in. You could feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and sweat begin to prick in your palms. Your eyes had flicked over the crowd in front of you, people walking in and out, to and from the bar, looking for tables, looking for friends. They had skimmed over the faces of strangers until they hit upon someone familiar. The face had immediately disappeared back into the crowd, but you were sure it was him. It had to be. Why else would your whole body have gone into panic mode? Why else would your legs be like jelly? Why else would your fingers feel numb? A quiet ringing grew louder in your ears and you kept looking for him again, waiting for that dark head above a white shirt to break through the crowd again. You had to be sure it was him.

“Are you ok?”

You wanted to stand. You had to stand and get a better view. You wished it weren’t so busy. Why did it have to be a Saturday night? Why were all these people out?

“Are you ok?”

A touch on your arm drew you back and your head span to Sungbin. He looked confused, concerned.

“I think I saw my ex,” you told him, your voice hoarse.

“Ah. A bad break-up?”

Your eyes had already gone back to the crowd, scanning and searching.

FUCK.

It was him. It really was him. It had to be. It couldn’t be.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” you answered vaguely.

You were still staring at him and then his eyes flicked to yours and you flinched so hard you almost knocked over your glass. You turned away, turned back; he looked as surprised as you were. He looked unsure. He looked like he was walking over to you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you said under your breath, looking at the table, trying to work out how on earth you were going to handle this. You wondered, if you thought hard enough, if you would be able to make yourself disappear. You wondered if you could just run: leg it out of the bar as fast as you could and not look back. You felt dizzy. You felt sick. You felt... drunk. Too drunk. Of all the places and all the times you might have imagined seeing him again, this wasn’t one. This would probably be the very last place you’d have chosen to run into him.

Sungbin’s hand was back on your arm, less tentative now. He scooted his chair closer to yours. His hand slid down your wrist and he tangled his fingers in yours. You could only look at him; you didn’t have the mental capacity to even form the question in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” came his reply. “I got you.”

Then he winked.

“Hi.”

You looked up and there he was. San. Just as he always had been. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, you could kid yourself there was an extra line or two on his face. But it was him, no denying.

“Hi,” you squeaked back.

You were trying to think of all the things you wanted to say to him, trying to think of all the things you could say to him, that would be appropriate to say to him here, in this bar, whilst holding the hand of another man.

“Hi, I’m Sungbin.”

He was confident. He stuck out his free hand and gave San a generous smile.

“Oh, uh, San.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” San turned his face back to you. “How have you been?”

You looked at Sungbin for help: this relative stranger, this potential new friend pretending to be your new boyfriend in front of your old boyfriend, this man who seemed to have much better control of this situation than you did. You could barely think at all. It was a desperate ringing, alarm bells, sirens wailing, a maelstrom of panic. Sungbin smiled at you. You had no idea how long you looked at him before answering, had no sense of time anymore.

“Yeah, fine,” you said, eventually tearing your gaze from Sungbin to stare into San and the sun behind him. Sungbin gave your hand a squeeze. “Good, actually. You?”

“Yeah, same old same old, you know how things are. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.” Sungbin stepping in to save you again. “I live in the area so I’m always dragging her over this way.”

You stammered for a second, trying to take in San’s surprise and Sungbin’s sweet, encouraging smile.

“Y-yeah, he does,” you confirmed. “I don’t- I don’t mind, though, really.”

“Mm, you always liked this bar. I remember.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed the way San’s eyes flicked to your hands, clasped together on the table, not just once but again and again. You wished you could peer inside his head, know what he was thinking.

You were hardly thinking at all. Your brain was trying so hard to be quick that it had overloaded itself, stalled, got stuck. You couldn’t get over the fact of him, there, in front of you. It had been months. Seasons had changed since you saw him last. You had changed. Could he see that? Did you want him to? Did you want him to miss you? Did you want him to be bothered by Sungbin—gentle giant, Sungbin, holding your hand so casually, talking about you as if you really were together? You tried not to imagine what San was doing there, who he was with. You didn’t know if you would care. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was dating. He was a catch, you knew that.

There were too many things happening at once, too many things to process. You felt like you were spinning out of control. What if San knew Sungbin wasn’t your boyfriend? What if he knew this was all pretend? What if he asked more about it? What if everything unravelled before your very eyes and the ground didn’t show mercy and swallow you whole?

“Are you still living around here?” San asked you. “I would’ve expected to see you around more.”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m over the river. I just-…"

You couldn’t commit yourself to the lie, had to let yourself trail off just looking at Sungbin, desperate for a sign you were doing ok, you were playing this the right way. He grinned at you.

“Like I said, my fault.”

He shrugged with a light chuckle and San faintly followed suit, mouth moving but no sound actually coming out.

“Right, well,” he began in the tell-tale way that said he was backing out of this conversation. “I’d better get back to my table. It was uh, nice meeting you, Sungbin. Good to see you, too-” his eyes rested on you, needled into you like he was searching for something specific in your face. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean, me for you, you know what I mean.”

A genuine smile. And a nod. Then he was retreating back into the sea of people, disappearing and leaving no trace. No trace but the hammering of your heart. No trace but the sweat pooling in your palms and sticking your dress to your back. No trace but the sudden exhaustion of the relief you felt being out of his presence. Sungbin squeezed your hand again.

“Bad break-up?”

You rested your forehead on the fingers of your free hand and shook your head.

“It was for me. It was the right decision but yeah, it was bad for me. I haven’t... I haven’t seen him since I moved the last of my shit out from our apartment – what used to be our apartment.”

Sungbin nodded knowingly and placed his hand on top of yours just for a second. Then he let you go completely.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I realise I didn’t really give you a chance to disagree; I’m sorry about that. I-”

You shook your head and waved your hand.

“It’s absolutely fine,” you reassured him. “It was good, actually.”

You were deeply grateful for his quick-thinking, presumptuous though it may have been. You wanted to splash your face with cold water, give yourself a shock, try to bring yourself back into the room. You didn’t want to look like you were still completely hung up on your ex; you didn’t want to look like a mess; you just needed a second to take a breath.

“That was... not expected,” you went on, more for your benefit than for his. “I have thought so many times about what I would say and what I would do if I saw him again but I guess I never really believed it would happen and then suddenly, he was fucking right in front of me and I just felt like dying!”

Sungbin laughed, as you knew he would, because it was a joke. It was a joke. But you didn’t not feel like dying for at least a second there.

“When did you break up?”

“Oh, months ago now. Kind of feels like I should be over it, I guess. I mean, I am, really. I just-...”

“You were caught off-guard. I get it; it’s rough seeing them again.”

It was rough. And you believed that he did get it. And he smiled at you so sincerely that you could have cried. It surprised you, that people could be nice to you; that people could like you, even; that people could see you and still smile at you. You looked at each other a little longer, Sungbin’s quiet calm radiating through you, your heartrate slowing and your spinning head coming to a stop.

“Thank you,” you said as you picked up your glass to take a sip to cover awkwardness that only you felt. “That was quick thinking and um, yeah, I think it helped. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sungbin shrugged.

“You’re doing me a big favour tonight; it was the least I could do. Happy to be your fake boyfriend whenever you need!”

He laughed and then you laughed and it felt good. You drained the last of your drink and Sungbin suggested you go somewhere else for your next one. You agreed. You didn’t look for San on your way out, just kept your eyes on Sungbin’s back as he led you, your hand in his (just in case), back through the bar and out onto the street.

“You don’t have to literally walk me to my door,” Sungbin said as you stepped into the lift with him. “I maintain that it should be me walking you home.”

You shrugged.

“That argument might hold water if you had even half a clue of how to get to my apartment. But you don’t. Besides, I was taking you out tonight; it only follows that I walk you back, too. Why break tradition?”

Sungbin bit back a grin.

“How long before I live that down?”

“Oh, at least five more years.”

“Well, if you’re going to make me suffer that, don’t you think we should do this correctly? Now, how did it go again?”

He moved behind you and draped himself over your shoulders, slowly leaning his weight onto you. You cried out and could do nothing but collapse underneath him.

“NO! I couldn’t carry you then; now you’re just trying to kill me!”

You knelt on the floor of the lift with your hands outstretched above you, as if they would in any way hold him off. He straightened and pulled you up by them.

“Fine,” he conceded as he stepped out at his floor. “But next time, you’re going to have to let me walk you home. Deal?”

You shrugged. You nodded. You didn’t take that as a promise.

“About your ex,” Sungbin started, standing in front of his door.

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly are you at with that?”

That had you on the backfoot. You didn’t know how to answer the question for yourself, let alone for him. Your first thought was that you probably would have to ask your therapist; did she think you were over it? Would she think you had closure? You blinked and opened your mouth as if somehow an answer would fall out of it without your having to compile it first.

“I just mean,” he continued, “are you dating? Would it be alright if I asked you out?”

“Oh, uh, I-”

Would it be alright? Wouldn’t it be? You had told yourself you were off dating. You weren’t ready for it; you had been emphatic when you’d said as much to Yoongi only a few weeks ago. Was that still true? You had spent so much time that day reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date, but... what if it had been? San aside, it had gone well, hadn’t it? You had had fun; Sungbin seemed like he had, too. He was the one who pretended to be your boyfriend first. Maybe... Maybe it would be ok? Maybe you were ready? There was only one way to really find out.

“Yeah, I guess that would be fine.”

He smiled.

“Good. I’ll do that then.”

He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles; everything inside you fluttered. Then he winked and dropped your hand to enter his door code.

“Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded, mute. He smiled at you again.

“It was really nice to see you again.” And when he said your name, it sounded new.

You didn’t leave immediately. Couldn’t. You stood outside his apartment, in shock, processing, looking at his closed front door, to the left, to the right, looking for an answer to what just happened. Sungbin did not just ask you out. But he did say he would. He was going to ask you out.

And you had already kind of said yes.

To a date.

You fumbled in your bag for your phone and had it to your ear before you realised you absolutely had to leave, lest Sungbin hear you speaking. You scuttled back down the hallway and into the lift while Taehyung’s phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. And then again. And then you sent him a text.

You: TEDDY!!! PICK UPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You tried calling for a fourth time and for a fourth time, you heard the automated voice of his voicemail service.

You threw your phone back into your bag, defeated, but jittery with nerves and adrenaline. You could barely remember how this felt. In fact, with San you had seen it coming. You had engineered it. You had been flirting for weeks; you practically demanded he ask you out. Then he did. This had come out of the blue. Blindsided you. For the second time that evening. You were so shocked by Sungbin’s question that you had, momentarily, forgotten about running into San.

What a fucking night. One that you had almost no idea how or where to start processing. Everything was-… you threw your hands in the air, by yourself, in the lift, shaking your head, completely bewildered. Taehyung was your go-to person for this. He was your sounding board. You picked up your phone to call him just one more time.

Your phone rang as you were changing into your pyjamas and you picked it up with your vest only half pulled down over your chest.

“Teddy! Finally!”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt or injured or maimed in any way?”

“No.”

“Then stop calling!”

“Hey! I need to talk to you!”

“Well, it’s going to have to wait, princess; I’m busy.”

“Not even for five minutes?”

“No.”

“But I saw San!”

There was a pause as Taehyung digested the information.

“Are you ok?” he asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

You heard a rustling in the background, another voice.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning your voice down to a loud stage whisper. “Are you with someone?”

“... Yes.”

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, please tell me it’s the barista. Is it the barista? It is, right?!”

“... Yes.”

You squealed and fell onto your sofa to kick your feet in the air.

“WE HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!” you screamed down the phone.

“Yes, but tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine, tomorrow. Oh my god. I am SO excited, Teddybear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going now.”

“Bye, Teddy!”

“Good night, babe; love you.”

“Love you!”

It was entirely possible that you weren’t going to be able to sleep at all now.

You squealed as you opened your door and let Taehyung into your apartment. He handed over an ice-cold, sweating cup of coffee and flopped onto your sofa.

“Tell me literally everything,” you demanded.

He merely shrugged.

“Don’t be fucking coy, you piece of shit! I want to know everything! It’s THE BARISTA.”

The barista worked at a coffee shop not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The barista was a fine, delicate-boned, ethereal beauty, probably the prettiest person you had ever seen in real life. Even Taehyung—unflappable, cool, calm and collected Taehyung—had been flustered the first time the barista had flashed him his pearly whites. And, last night, something had finally happened between them.

“There’s really not that much to tell,” Taehyung countered. “I asked him out and he said yes.”

You hit him hard with a cushion.

“I said I want to know everything! And you can’t just say it like it was that simple; you’ve been daydreaming about that guy for months!”

“Firstly, I was sussing out his situation. I understand tact and diplomacy and how to not say every stupid thing that’s in my head at any given moment-”

“Uncalled for, but go on.”

“-So I had to bide my time.-”

“Also, you’re a massive chicken and he made you go knock-kneed and goo-goo-eyed.”

“-Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or would you prefer to just make up your own version?”

You cackled.

“You know I’d love to make up my own story, but no, sorry, I’ll stop interrup-”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babygir-”

“Ok, now who’s interrupting?!”

“I’m the one trying to tell you a story!”

“Ok! Ok! Fine, spin your yarn and give me the entire confection, please.”

“I’m seeing him again tonight. Truth be told, I’d be with him right now if someone hadn’t already laid claim to my time.”

“Teddy!”

You felt bad for tearing him away from his One True Love, you did. But he’d already seen his success with the barista (Hyunjin to those in the know) and could go running right back to him as soon as he was done here. All you had was a too-warm apartment to stew in until whatever hour or day Sungbin would choose to actually, officially do the asking.

“Come on, then,” Taehyung said, with a shrug, and nudged you with his foot. “How the fuck did you see San again?”

Shit, that too.

“Right, well, you know I was out with Sungbin last night—and, by the way, do NOT let me forget to show you his instagram. Oh my god. There are no words. And there’s also something else I need to tell you about him after this. But, yes, San, ok.”

It felt like trying to describe a blur. You still didn’t know how you felt about it. The whole night felt surreal to you now, like a dream. It was frustrating to have met him but not really met him, to have seen him and not been able to talk. Everything that you had been working through—trying to work through—felt bundled up inside you and you wanted him to know. You didn’t need him to think you were dating again, you didn’t need to ‘win’; you needed him to know that you understood. That maybe there would always be some kind of thing between you—history, old intimacies like ink stains in your skin—but it didn’t mean that that past would hold you back forever. You wanted him to see that you understood that.

But you came to those conclusions this morning, after a deep sleep, after another man had made implicit promises to ask you out. And, once he’d actually asked you, would anything you had to say to San matter anymore? Did it really matter now?

“I don’t know how I feel about it because... I had this blind panic, y’know? But I don’t know why I panicked because San is a good person and I understand why he broke up with me and I don’t blame him for that and there really shouldn’t have been any reason for it to be awkward, right?”

“I mean, another man pretending to be your boyfriend might make it a little awkward.”

“Maybe... But that’s not Sungbin’s fault; he was trying to help. I thought I’d be cool seeing him again, because I’ve thought so much about things I want to say to him or would say if I could, but when he was actually in front of me, it was like I couldn’t think at all. I don’t know what that means.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You were surprised.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be over him? Should he have that effect on me even now?”

“I don’t think ‘should’ is a helpful word here, sugarplum. There is no should or shouldn’t about feelings; isn’t that therapy 101?”

“I just don’t know... I guess I thought that seeing him again would make everything crystal clear, written in stone. Sure. But... Well—ok, the other thing is that Sungbin kind of asked me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, he asked me if it would be alright if he asked me out. And I said yes. So he said he would. But he hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

“And you want to know if you should go out with him or not?”

“I guess?”

You shrugged. You wanted to go out with Sungbin. You knew you wanted to because you could picture his smiling face and bulging biceps and you saw clearly, outside of the moment, how quickly and easily he stepped in to support you, no questions asked and no favours owed. He wanted to date you. You knew you wanted to date him. But-

“I don’t want it to be a mistake,” you said.

“That’s natural. No one likes making mistakes.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want it to be a mistake for Sungbin.”

“Why would it be?”

You looked at him, trying to say, without saying, what you meant. Because it had been for San—you had been. He was better off without you and maybe Sungbin would be, too. He was young and rich and free; he had just moved to the biggest city in the country; he had the world at his feet. Were you really going to let him limit himself, stop himself at your door?

Taehyung looked cross for a moment, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn, then he took a sip of his coffee (mostly iced water at this point) and, when he turned back to you, his gaze was softer.

“Baby,” he cooed and he held his arms out to you. Despite the heat in your poorly air-conditioned apartment, you climbed into his lap and let him stroke your hair. “There’s only one way to know for sure if something’s a mistake and that’s to do it. Sungbin clearly wants to. If you also want to, then you’re just going to have to dive in. The water’s great.”

You nodded and let him hold you, so grateful to him and all his tact and diplomacy and gentleness. He wasn’t always—or often—gentle with you, because usually that’s not what you needed and he knew it. Just like he knew that today, that was what you needed.

“I do have one question, though,” he said and his hesitance made your stomach drop.

“Ok.”

“Where does Yoongi fit in with all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know; I thought you guys were-”

“-Friends! Just friends! Have I not said it a million times?! We’re just friends! We’ve always just been friends!”

“But you did have sex-”

“ONE TIME!”

You pushed away from him to better display your indignation and displeasure. Taehyung had a bee in his bonnet about Yoongi—had done since you’d first mentioned him—even though he didn’t know the guy, didn’t know anything.

“Ok, ok!” He held his hands up in defeat. “I just sort of figured you guys were heading in that direction.”

“Why?”

“You seem to like him a lot.”

“I do. Because we’re friends. I like you a lot, too, and we’re not going to shack up.”

“Yes, love, but I’m gay and you are not a man.”

You pushed him.

“You know what I mean!”

“I take your point. If you want to date Sungbin and feel good about it, then you have my blessing-”

“I don’t need your blessing, Teddy; I can do what I like!”

He fixed his eyes on you and simply waited you out.

“Ok, fine!” you cried, exasperated, after probably not more than five seconds. “Thank you, yes, I did want your approval.”

“And you have it, my sweet. As long as you’re happy and not being a complete idiot, I’m on board.”

“I mean... Thanks, I guess?”

"Don’t mention it.”

“Babe!” you cried as soon as Yoongi step foot inside the classroom the following Thursday. You beckoned him closer, telling him to hurry, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as he was within reach. “I have so much to tell you.”

He looked surprised, blinked, and then shrugged with a slight nod of his head. You didn’t pause for thought as you unloaded both your bags and your gossip onto the counter. You were sieving flour as you told him about your dinner with Mei; beating eggs into the mixture when you told him about drinks with Sungbin; and watching Yoongi almost drop the entire thing as he placed it in the oven when you mentioned San.

“What was that like?” he asked with genuine, but guarded, curiosity.

“A blur. Kind of a panicked mess but also fine. I sort of want a do-over but mostly for my pride, y’know? It was bumping into an ex, not actually meeting up with them so I think that made it better. But also worse because I had no time to prepare but there was also no opportunity to get into the difficult stuff which meant we didn’t have to get into it.”

“Do you still want to do that? Talk to him?”

“There’s a lot I want to say to him, but they are things I want to say more than things I think he would need or want to hear. If we met, it would be for my benefit and I don’t know if he deserves to be pulled in for that. Do you know what I mean?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.

“And that was before Sungbin asked me out, too, so maybe I would be saying something different if that hadn’t happened.”

“He asked you out?”

Yoongi was turning towards his counter, looking at his sugar in his pan, turning on the hob, his head inclined just slightly towards you to indicate that he was listening. He needlessly pushed a hand through his hair which, far from tucking it behind his ear, made it fall in front of his face. You were, likewise, distracted by your sugar syrup and altogether too excited to take note of much else.

“Yes!” you cried in answer. “So, on the Saturday he asked if he could and, obviously, I said yes. Then it took him until Wednesday to actually do the damn thing, but yes, he asked me out and I said yes and we’re going out tomorrow for our first actual date.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? I had no idea it was coming—the bit where he asked if he could ask me out, I mean. We ran into my ex at drinks! And he asked me out?! And I was... I was discombobulated, you might say; I stood at his door for five minutes just in shock at what had happened. I was in disbelief. Especially because I wasn’t expecting it! At all. I mean, I was just doing Mei a favour! I didn’t think anything of it and now I can’t stop thinking about it! Or, well, him. I had forgotten how exciting this part is? It’s terrifying, yeah, completely horrifying, really, but I also just feel like I’m alive, y’know?”

You paused briefly, glancing at the oven timer and stirring your syrup.

“I just...” you started and then stopped, staring off into space to let the thought coalesce in your brain. “It’s so crazy that you can think one thing and then someone comes into your life and, suddenly, everything is so different. All it takes is one person to—ok, this is dramatic but you know me now so you’re going to have to let me be—change your whole life. A chance encounter? And suddenly I’m not the world’s loneliest, bitterest, most miserable single person alive? Suddenly, I have something to be excited about? To look forward to? I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I’m allowing it. I’m allowed to indulge in this because it’s been so long. I’ve been miserable for ages now. And I’m finally not. Don’t get me wrong when I say this, because therapy works, or at least it helps, it really does, but man, having a crush on someone is fucking electric, right? Years of counselling and it turns out nothing makes you feel the joy of being alive like when you really fucking like someone.”

Yoongi hummed.

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga x reader

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foxofninetales · 5 months

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Liu Sang Watcher’s Guide - Part 18

Man In the Rain. No, Not That Rain, the Other Rain

Link to part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Interlude | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 |

Season 2 Episode 16

15:00-21:05

i.e., I hope everyone enjoys dim lighting, whoo!

Wu Xie contemplates mortality. That this also involves contemplating a sleeping Liu Sang is the silver lining in a rather depressing cloud.

Look at these little sleeping beans, aren't they cute. Good thing nothing bad will ever happen to them.

Wu Xie sneaks out alone to continue his quest, as if every single person present isn't 100% expecting him to do that.

This is the closest I could get in still image of capturing the stupidly adorable little smile Liu Sang gives as he catches up with Wu Xie - part smugness at Wu Xie's inability to sneak past his hearing, part resigned amusement at Wu Xie himself.

As Liu Sang acknowledges that Wu Xie is in the final stages of his disease, and Wu Xie says he knows he won't be allowed to go alone, the elements oblige with thematically appropriate rainfall.

Wu Xie asks Liu Sang to get the others out safely and not follow him. He pats Liu Sang's shoulder as he leaves, which has approximately the same affect that it would have on a lonely rescue dog.

Liu Sang watches him walk off with the rest of the Iron Triangle and tries to figure out where he went wrong and started Having Emotions.

Bai Haotian wakes up and realizes Wu Xie is gone. Liu Sang looks guilty (and extremely pretty).

…that's right. Break it to her tactfully.

I'm sorry, how am I supposed to pay attention to plot when he's sitting here being this pretty?!?!

23:52-24:34

Liu Sang and the others watch from a distance as Boss Jiao discovers their recently-vacated hideout, right before Hei Xiazi leads Boss Jiao's men away to try to give the others time to escape.

28:26-32:25

It… does not work. Everything is terrible and everyone is bound and on their knees and Hei Xiazi and Liu Sang stare at each other and intently say each others' names. The author would say that this awoke something in her but let's face it, that happened several episodes ago.

If Liu Sang had a dime for every time he is tied up and sees his team-mates taken out in front of him, he would have TWENTY CENTS TOO MUCH. (Good thing they were only SUPERFICIAL WOUNDS and everyone involved is COMPLETELY OKAY at the end of the series.)

At least this time he has a little more leverage, and bargains his cooperation to help find Thunder City for Xiao Bai's life.

The one silver lining is that we get treated to his 'ooooh parceling that new trauma away for later because for right now screw you' expression.

The author just wants to hug everybody, and it's only gonna get worse from here!

Next time: Blood is like drama-mouthwash, right?

Gifset posts from this episode: Man in the Rain by @ohsehuns

*Please feel free to use any of the screencaptures from these LSWG posts for your own purposes - crediting is appreciated but optional.

#dmbj #the lost tomb reboot #liu sang #liu sang watcher's guide

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kpopjust4u · 1 year

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Kinkmas - Day 21: Thigh Riding W/ Wonho

Post Date: 21st December 2022 Content: Smut - Wonho x Reader WC: 1.1K TW?: Thigh Riding/ SoftDom!Wonho/ Clothed

Summary: Oh how you looked so god in your Christmas party dress, making Wonho slowly lose his mind as you use his thigh to not ruin such a pretty outfit.

Masterlist Kinkmas Masterlist Prompt list

“Baby, are you almost ready?” Wonho calls through the house, unknowing whether or not you were in the bedroom or the bathroom. He’s dressed up in a nice shirt and trousers, top two buttons undone as he clasps at the cuffs of his shirt, waiting for you.

“I’m almost ready!” You call back to him as you’re now rushing to get your heels on, not wanting to break your leg so you rush but take your time at the same time.

You knew you should’ve started getting earlier than you have, but you just didn’t want to get out of the nice and warm PJs that you had on. It was cold outside and even though you partially helped your friend plan this party, you just didn’t want to go out in the snow.

Taking a little bit longer than what Wonho expects of you, he makes his way to meet you in the bedroom, finding you there just out of luck. In his mind, he was going to drag you out of the room so you could get to the party on time but seeing your outfit, his mind wanders somewhere else completely.

“Are you okay?” You giggle, noticing him staring at you with a slither of a smile, just smoothing out the red dress that you had put on, his eyes following your hands smooth down the sides of your hips.

Noticing the time on your phone, you rush to go grab your bag but the small scoff from behind you stops you in your tracks. Slowly turning around to face him, your hands drop to your sides noticing how his eyes follow your every movement.

Repeating yourself with a light tone, “Are you okay?”, he just grins at you. You can’t but help raise an eyebrow at him, watching how his hands clasped together and his tongue swiping across his lips like a hungry person would when looking at their food.

Strutting towards you, he sits on the bed, pulling you closer to him with his hands on your hips, “I think we’re going to be late to this party,” he growls whilst situating you onto his thigh.

With furrowed brows, you look at him with confusion. The confusion slowly fades when you feel his thigh tense up, the muscle pressing right up against your core and his grin grows into a smirk.

Wonho's hands never leave your sides as he nips at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before crashing against you. The kiss instantly gets heated as his hands move to cup your ass, grabbing at it tightly as he slowly gets you to roll your hips on his tensed thigh.

With faint moans leaving your lips, your nails dig into his muscly shoulders. There was no possible way of him letting you off his lap, too horny to give a shit about the party.

“Baby...” You whimper, biting your lip as he tenses his thigh again, making you roll your hips more, “I’m ready now.... Let’s- Let’s go”.

However, the more he flexes and releases to relax the muscle of his thigh to make you experience the difference in pleasure, the more you whimper and your face screws in satisfaction.

Tongue poking between his teeth, his eyebrows flash upwards whilst tilting his head to the side, “How could we possibly go now?”.

Tenses thigh.

Another whimper falls from your lips as you start to feel yourself soak through your underwear, your core burning with the desire to be touched but you’d feel guilty if you didn’t go to the party.

“But”.

Another flex.

“I promised”.

Flex.

“To be there,” You eventually got out through moments of moaning when you’re grinding on his tensing thigh, aching for him to do more but you knew he wasn’t going to touch you properly, yet.

A fake coo comes flying out of his mouth, hand rising to your cheek as he cups it, thumb resting on your chin, “That’s a shame baby, but we can’t go now, not with you looking too good. I’m not going to be able to behave all night”.

Coming to a stop, his hands just hold you in place with no pressure to try and move you in the slightest. This gives you the perfect opportunity to choose whether or not you want to continue.

If his words didn’t affect you as much as they have, you would’ve teased him as you make a move towards the door but you just couldn’t lift yourself off him. You’re the one that has been teased, needing that extra friction for the release your body is now begging for.

On your own accord, you start to roll your hips on him, head nestling in the crook of his neck as his grip on you tightens again and he starts flexing his thigh again.

He alters the frequency of his flexes to keep you on your toes as they curl in your heels. breathing heavily with loud moans as you quicken your pace to try and reach that high.

"Fuck!" You mewl, the more you roll your hips, the more the muscle presses right up against your core in the most perfect way and when it goes, you find yourself trying to chase for it again.

Flex.

“Look at you baby, looks like we’ll have a lot of apologising to do later,” He scoffs onto your shoulder, nails digging into your ass, very happy with making you into a mess.

Keeping his thigh flexed for a little longer, you’re starting to find the pleasure spot again, your clothed core grinding against it in hopes for an early release but just as you were about to get somewhere, he lets loose.

“Baby!” You wail, biting down on his shoulder as you continue to work for it.

You must’ve made him feel guilty as he flexes once more and puts his energy into making sure it stays flexed.

Just for you to be able to reach your high which edges closer and closer, your body starts to hurt from how much work you’re putting in, not stopping until your orgasm hits you.

Within seconds, it goes from zero to a hundred, finding yourself shaking on his thigh as you soak through your panties onto his trousers.

You’re a panting mess as you come to a slow stop, head resting on his shoulder as your arms snake around them also, hugging him tightly.

He’s admiring you in this state, knowing there was no chance of you getting to that party now, unless you’re both okay with having extreme sexual tension between you. But you know, for one thing, you’re going to have to apologise, one way or another.

Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

Want to be added to my taglist? Let me know! <3

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop kinkmas #wonho fanfic #wonho scenarios #wonho imagines #lee hoseok #lee hoseok smut #wonho smut #wonho hard hours

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phantom-playdough · 1 year

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Macaque x GN!Reader: Comforting

EDITOR NOTE FOR TITLE

Changed the title cause I WANTED to use the quote: "You're worrying me..." But I completely FORGOT about that line, LOL

Didn't know what else to call it, but it is LITERALLY 2:00 am, so this is the best I could come up with.

===========================================

This is my first post on this Tumblr blog, and I thought it would be super fun to write something for Macaque cause I adore this boi. I also noticed that there is a distinct lack of hurt/comfort fanfics for him on every platform I am on. So I will do it myself.

TWs: Mentions of nightmares, a lot of trouble eating and sleeping, the reader struggling with self-care in general, angst(?) in the beginning and middle, but there will be sweet fluff and confessions at the end to make up for it! I will add to these warnings if need be.

==========================================

Macaque tried to let it slide at first. He really did. But it was almost 3pm and Y/n was still sleeping...! Normally, he would probably just assume they went to sleep late the night before or something. But the thing is... this has been happening for over a month now.

It worried Macaque because his first thought was that something was wrong with Y/n’s sleep.

As the clock ticked on, closer and closer to late afternoon, he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and went to wake Y/n up.

When Macaque opened the door, he realized he had not been in Y/n’s room in a while. It was rather messy, to say the least. Clothes were thrown on the chair and desk and were lying on the floor. There were small wrappers all over the dresser.

Even though Y/n was lying in bed, it was super messy. Some of the blankets and pillows were lying on the floor around the bed, and one of the plushies that previously was on the bed was somehow thrown to the other side of the room, in front of Macaque's feet at the bedroom door.

Macaque picked up the plushie and slowly approached the bed, placing it by Y/n's feet. When he looked at Y/n's face, Macaque noticed their face twist into a look of discomfort. Their eyes were screwed shut and they groaned like a zombie.

It didn't take a brain scientist or rocket surgeon to figure out what was happening to Y/n in their mind. Macaque wanted nothing more than to wake them up; he wanted to relieve them of whatever horrors they were dreaming about. But he bit his tongue and held back, knowing better than he probably should that being woken up during a nightmare can cause more harm than good.

The mental image of Y/n being woken up, crying or even screaming because Macaque was too selfish made his heart clench. He just decided to wait by his best friend's side, even though his heart raced so fast it almost made his ears ring.

Macaque gently grabbed Y/n's hand, swallowing his pride, and rubbed gentle circles onto their skin. He couldn't say how much time had passed as he watched Y/n, his heart breaking as he saw them grow antsier in their dream.

Finally, Y/n opened their eyes. They squinted at the sun shining through their bedroom window. They looked over at Macaque, seeing that he didn't even bother trying to hide the fear on his face. It was only then that they noticed Macaque's hand on their own as his grip tightened slightly. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it showed that he was very scared.

Y/n simply spoke in a hoarse voice, "Hey, Macaque." They then cleared their throat. "What are you doing in my room? Is something wrong?"

Macaque adverted his eyes, glancing around. He had a smirk on his face to try and hide his anxiety. "I, uh... I was actually kinda hoping you could tell me that."

Y/n shrugged. "Nothing new." They said as they slowly sat up. Before Macaque could question what they meant, Y/n turned to him and spoke with a slight blush. "Mind if I get dressed?"

Macaque blushed and cleared his throat. "Yeah, sure. Take your time. I'll go make you some lunch."

"Don't you mean breakfast?" Y/n asked, clearly unaware of the time.

"Breakfast doesn't happen past three, Y/n." Macaque said with a smirk. He then left the room. Y/n sighed as they checked the clock.

Sure enough, 3:15pm.

Y/n dug through the piles of clothes on their desk and chair. They finally landed on an outfit they had worn a few days this week. While they were aware they should do laundry, the thought was too depressing to commit to. The idea of all the clothes to sort through and self-loathing over not doing the laundry sooner made Y/n shiver in discomfort.

The aroma of eggs on the frying pan, mango juice, and waffles filled the air in the kitchen. Y/n felt their mouth water, their stomach growled so loudly that it alerted Macaque of their presence.

"Hungry?" Macaque asked with a chuckle. Y/n nodded sheepishly.

"I thought you said breakfast doesn't happen past three." Y/n pointed out with a sweet smile. Macaque found himself staring at that perfect smile for longer than he should've been. He snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the eggs.

"I don't remember saying that!" Macaque played dumb to see if he could get a reaction from Y/n. He did.

Y/n laughed lightly, before their expression turned soft. "Thanks, Macaroni." Y/n was the ONLY person that could call him that. Period.

There was a small silence that followed as Macaque focused on finishing the cooking.

Eventually, it was all done, and the pair started eating. Although, Y/n suddenly felt very full, despite only eating less than five bites. They pushed the food on their plate around, trying to motivate themself to eat. But for some strange reason, the smell of delicious food that made them want to eat a mountain suddenly made them never want to touch food again.

It was all so confusing, these feelings. Macaque noticed that Y/n lacked the sparkle in their eyes as they stared down at their plate. He heard another loud gurgle from Y/n's stomach, but they didn't make an effort to eat.

"Does it taste that bad?" Macaque chuckled as he asked to hide his disappointment.

"No! No, no, no! I-it tastes good, I swear!" Y/n yelled, their hands waving in front of them frantically. "I just have been having trouble eating lately! Sometimes I feel really hungry and everything, but I--"

Macaque grabbed Y/n's hands in an attempt to stop their loud rambling. It worked, thankfully. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm not mad." Macaque said a soft and sweet tone in his voice. "How about I save your food for you?" Macaque was reaching for Y/n's plate, but he still waited for them to say something, to not pressure them.

There were a couple seconds of small silence, but eventually, Y/n nodded once. Macaque frowned for a moment, but he smiled again as fast as he could to hide his fear deep inside. He took the plate and saved the food; the two were worried, even if for different reasons.

Y/n felt scared of the idea of telling Macaque was wrong because they didn't even know what was wrong!

Meanwhile, Macaque was trying to figure out just that. Things were so good only a month ago, but slowly, Y/n fell back. It worried him so much because Y/n and he had become so close over the time they had known each other.

Macaque hadn't expressed it much, but Y/n had helped him in ways he never thought possible! They helped him overcome his insecurities. They helped him grow more comfortable with touches that didn't involve fighting. Heck, they even helped him become friendly enough to do things like offer a stranger on the street a small smile!

Macaque didn't like the fact that he was unable to help Y/n at the moment. He felt that problems were meant to be solved. He wanted nothing more than to scoop Y/n up and pepper them with kisses. To give them comfort for whatever was troubling them. But he didn't want to scare them off.

The two of them had been friends for so long. Macaque didn't know he could feel this level of love for someone since...him. Even though Macaque knew Y/n long enough to know that he loved them, he didn't know if that was reciprocated.

But it was. Y/n was just as afraid of the idea of Macaque not feeling the same way, so they made their affection as subtle as possible so they wouldn't ruin the friendship. When they first met Macaque, he was so bruised deep inside. Y/n refused to call him broken the entire time they had known him. Because he was so much stronger inside than he ever thought.

But now, Y/n felt much more bruised than they had in a long time. It scared them.

Eventually, everything was cleaned up and put away. Y/n was still sitting at the table when Macaque walked over to them and offered them his hand.

Y/n gave him a confused look. But they trusted him and placed their hand in his. Macaque pulled them out of their chair and led them to the couch. He sat the two of them down and very gently wrapped an arm around Y/n's shoulder to pull them close to him. He leaned them back, and Y/n curled their legs up onto the couch and leaned on him.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, their faces beet red and hearts racing a million miles a second. But eventually, Macaque couldn't handle the silence anymore. He turned his head to look at Y/n, bringing a hand up to hold their face to meet his gaze.

"You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right...?" Macaque whispered the last word so softly that it made Y/n's stomach flip.

They nodded one time. But they knew that kind of response just wouldn't cut it. Y/n sighed and pulled their head away from Macaque's grip.

"I know I can tell you. But I don't even know what I know to tell you. For some reason, I have felt really out of it the past couple of weeks. I want to eat, but I can't. I need to sleep, but I get nightmares. I...I want to hug you, but I am scared."

Not even a second after that last sentence left Y/n's lips, Macaque grabbed them and hugged them as though they would disappear. "You don't have to be scared, Y/n. I...I don't usually do this. Expressing myself, I mean. But with you, it's different." Macaque laughed just a little bit. "I don't usually let people get as close to me as you. I trust you to call me Macaroni. I let you touch me. I...I let myself love you."

At that moment, Y/n smiled wider than they had probably all their life. They pulled away and looked Macaque in his gorgeous eyes. "I let myself love you too." Macaque smiled, and he looked from Y/n's eyes to their lips. Y/n got the hint pretty quickly, and the two of them slowly leaned in.

Macaque and Y/n were a hair away from kissing, but Macaque still mumbled over the thick silence, "Are you sure?" Y/n answered by closing the distance and kissing him. It was short, and they pulled away too soon for Macaque's liking. He pulled them back in but gave Y/n room to break away should they choose to.

They didn't.

Eventually, the pair parted for air. Macaque took Y/n's hands and held a look of love on his face that made Y/n feel like royalty. How many people got to see this side of him? Sadly, not enough.

"I'm willing to work with you on what's bothering you. I can't fix this overnight," Macaque said sadly but smiled as he continued. "But I mean, you helped me. I might as well try and return the favor."

Y/n smiled, kissed one of his ears, and whispered, "I'd like that."

#six eared macaque #monkie kid macaque #macaque x reader #macaque x y/n #referenced shadowpeach

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justkending · 10 months

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Found Memories. Chapter 2.

Finding Memories Sequel: (I advise you to read the 1st series for context).

Series Summary: Following the aftermath of Finding Memories, Bucky tries to complete goals he feels she would have discovered for herself as a way to let her memory live on. However, he never expected to find someone very close to who he believed she would have been if given the chance of normalcy. A journey of mourning someone he lost turned into a journey of discovering someone new happens upon the soldier. Maybe this whole normal thing isn’t as bad as he had pictured it in his mind. Maybe he had a better shot at it than he ever tried to imagine.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Teacher) Reader

Word Count: 4700+

Playlist Song: Magdalene by: The 502's

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't post another chapter until I finish writing the entire series, but I checked the follower count for the first time in a while and realized we passed 3000 followers recently!!! So I'm posting this in celebration of the 3155 people that have been kind enough to follow my writing journey and interact with stories that I put a lot of my time and effort into :) I can not explain how thankful I am for each and every one of your support!! XO

Chapter Notes: This chapter is written from the perspective of the reader. Each chapter will (for the most part) switch back and forth from Bucky and Y/N Clark's 1st person. I've read some books recently that did it in this format, and it was fun to read that way and see all points of view ;) Plus, I thought it was only fair that we saw Y/N's perspective from the last chapter, and you can get an idea of the character she will play. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it because this REALLY IS THE LAST chapter I'm posting until the series is complete. As always, please feel free to comment, even if just emojis or a few words. They all mean the world to a writer!!

Chapter 2:

I hadn't planned on going to the compound anytime soon, but Tony Stark had proved to be a sneaky man when it came to getting his way.

When I saw Morgan Stark on my enrollment sheet, my principal made a special visit to my room during the last week of summer when we reported before the kids. I was nervous about the kind of parent relationship that was to come after how serious she made the endeavor.

My principal, who is also one of the reasons I'm not staying at this school for another year, made it a big deal and practically scared me shitless that if anything was not to Mr. Stark's liking when it came to his daughter's education, it was on me to fix or else I'd be screwed.

It was a lot of pressure, considering this was a man who had saved humanity more than once and was likely to continue to rack up that number.

But the pressure was quickly taken away when he showed up to meet the teacher, and he and his wife, Pepper, were nothing short of kind and supportive parents every teacher hopes to work alongside of.

Now was he a little forward and slightly egotistical? Yes. But I was prepared, considering his reputation. Pepper balanced him perfectly and quickly put him in his place if he started getting a little too brash.

And it was quickly shown during any minor and major holiday that they were big-time gift-givers and loved to shower those that worked with them with random treats and thoughtful, yet overpriced, 'appreciations' as they called them.

I remember getting a card during Thanksgiving break that seemed simple and like any other card a parent sends as a thank you, but inside was a gift certificate for a spa day.

And no, not just a mani and pedi or a massage. It was an entire spa day treatment including; mudbaths, facials, full body massage, hot rock therapy, mani-pedi, acupuncture, and a list of other things I had never even heard of or knew as options. They had already paid for and scheduled it for me, and they had handed it to me like a Mcdonald's gift card.

I didn't feel right taking something like that from a parent even if I knew they were billionaires and it was equivalent to a Mcdonald's gift card to them. So I attempted to give it back and handed it back to Happy, who usually picked up Morgan and told him it was a kind offer, but I couldn't accept it.

The next day I had a bouquet of flowers waiting for me in the front office and a card that said;

"Sorry for leaving Tony in charge of your holiday gift. He doesn't realize how intense he gets in that department… But please do treat yourself to a spa day! I changed the package so that you and your sister can enjoy it together, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as the things he added to it. We appreciate all you do for our family. You deserve the pampering!"

It was a sweet gesture, and it felt rude to not take it after they had sent it back to me. I asked my assistant principal about it, who had Tony as a parent for the last 5 years, and she also said to take it. I wasn't used to the private school demographic as much, and she assured me that though it was nicer than what most parents gift, she's seen him gift more outrageous things that Pepper had to fix in the past.

"I had to talk him down from donating a hot air balloon ride for our field day last year. A spa gift certificate is nothing compared to what I've seen that man do…" she had said.

So though it still felt weird, I took advantage of it and took my younger sister to the spa, and we enjoyed the massages, mani-pedi, and facials we were kindly given.

All that to say, I've learned this semester that Tony was an ornery man. He reminded me of my father when it came to how he joked in conversations and how blunt he could be about his thoughts and ideas.

I had thrown something back to him during our first parent-teacher conference by the complete mistake of not filtering my thoughts. And when I thought I was going to get fired, he let out a loud laugh and told Pepper, "Finally, someone who can dish it back and not get butt hurt," he had laughed with a giant grin.

I apologized quickly and rambled about how he has remarks like my dad, and it was just a reflex to say what I countered with, and Pepper laughed too.

"It's ok, Ms. Clark. Tony needs the sass to keep him in line as often as possible."

"Yeah, it gets boring when people walk on eggshells around you. Where's the fun in etiquette?"

That got a quick eye-roll from his wife and a slap to the arm, which he laughed at, and we continued our meeting.

Since then, I have kept a professional demeanor around him, but I also don't hold back when he needs a quick sarcastic remark to put him in his place.

Now his sliding a resume into Morgan's homework folder was also on the list of things I was not expecting. Right next to the custom-made Stark iPad he gifted me for Labor Day. (Which who gives gifts for Labor Day?)

The resume was an offer to be a personal tutor for Morgan once she got to middle school. She was in 5th grade right now, and she was a bright girl. I don't know why he was worried about her having the extra help, but nonetheless, he offered me a job to be her full-time one-on-one tutor for next year.

He was willing to pay me enough that I wouldn't need a second job as a teacher. I would solely be Morgan's tutor, and the benefits and pay would be enough for me to work little hours for a salary that a top surgeon in New York would make.

A part of me struggled with the offer. I knew money-wise it would take care of everything I struggled with; rent, medical bills, helping my sister through college, and the list went on.

I should have jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work under one of the wealthiest and most admired men alive, but my heart could never accept something like that merely because it was such an outrageous opportunity to fall in my lap.

I kept saying in the back of my head that I hadn't joined this career for the money. It was never about the money.

The only reason I took a private school job this last year (which a friend was kind enough to get my foot in the door for) was that money was tight, and I needed the slight boost that public school funding couldn't give me. But I wasn't giving up teaching; I was just moving to a different group of kids to teach. A lot more privileged and supported demographic, but I was still influencing kids' lives.

Though after the last few months, I realized it wasn't a fit for me. As much as I wanted to make it be that and push my morals aside to continue so I could keep paying for things without going into debt, deep down, it wasn't what I signed up for.

I was meant to help the underprivileged and poverty-level kids. I was that kid that grew up with one parent working more than one minimum-wage job to make ends meet and the other being underpaid as a school teacher themselves for most of my life. The educators who aided and encouraged me to be where I am now made me passionate about the same efforts.

With all that to be said, I was moving back to the public school in New York after this year, and Tony had found out.

It wasn't that I didn't care for the kids at this school. I loved them. My group of 5th graders had become 18 of my own personal children. I wanted the world for them and everything in between. The difference was they could have the world and everything in between. They had access to those resources.

The kids I was going back to had lived in a world I knew far better than the one I was in. I wasn't of major aid to my upper-class students as much as I was to the lower class. And at the end of the day, my job wasn't about the money; I continued to remind myself. It was about the next generation getting the support they needed and deserved.

So when I saw that Morgan had left her sweater in the classroom before the break and I had the resume in my hand, I called and asked if I could come to talk with him about it.

I hadn't been to the compound, and the size and security of it all was nerve-racking. The number of guards, levels of clearance, and private entrances I had to go through just to meet him in the lobby was intense.

I couldn't help but marvel at the architect and the sufficiency the place ran on while walking up the steps outside into the building.

People were walking around in grey and neutral-colored attire, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb with my bright red and checkered winter coat. Though I like neutral colors, I was never one to keep strictly to that. It was near impossible for me to pass up an accessory or statement piece that popped with color. Hence why I always got the comment, "Oh, you're an elementary teacher? You definitely have the wardrobe for it."

Thank God I spotted Tony only a few seconds after entering the foyer because there were three different reception desks, which I'm sure went to all kinds of departments of the massive establishment, but I wasn't sure which one to approach.

He approached me with open arms and gave me a hubristic smile as I gave him a keen one in return.

"The homework folder is meant to hold Morgan's work. Not your side hustles," I said with a raised eyebrow as I handed him a new folder with just the resume in it.

"It's work from a Stark; does that not count?" he said back, his grin never leaving.

"Yeah, but the work I'm supposed to review is usually based on story elements and division facts. I don't think Morgan is worried about salary levels and insurance benefits at her age."

"With a work ethic like her mother and a brain like her mother… She'll be managing a place like this in no time," he placed his hands in his pockets, not taking the folder just yet.

I handed off the sweater instead and held onto the folder, knowing I wouldn't be leaving with it either way.

"That I can't argue. But she may want to get her math down before she starts something like that up," I held onto my tote bag with one hand and dropped the other with the folder.

"Which is why I had that in her folder, so math and whatever else she needs help in, she can have you to h-."

He was cut off when a tall, dark-skinned man approached abruptly. I recognized him as one of the Avengers but didn't want to seem shocked or freaked out, considering I was in their home, basically.

"Hi," he said.

Running to his side was a second Avenger I somewhat recognized, but he seemed more hesitant and nervous compared to the man with a sweet gap-toothed smile in front of me.

Tony's light and teasing mood seemed to disappear with his interruption, and he took a breath before saying, "I told you I would help you after I talked with-." He was cut off as the man patted him on the arm and went to introduce himself.

"Sam Wilson," he smiled kindly, offering his hand, which I smiled back and took.

"Y/N Clark. Nice to meet you."

Sam seemed to give his friend a silent look that communicated something else, and the blue-eyed man extended his hand as well.

"James Barnes," he gave a tight-lipped smile like he was being forced to converse, but I returned a firm handshake and responded.

"Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you."

I realized then I had seen this man earlier today at the coffee shop I stopped at before my errand here. I didn't have my head on straight at the time cause my sister had called saying that the repair man who was supposed to fix our balcony door had once again canceled and rescheduled. This was the fourth time now, and it felt like our apartment was crumbling beneath us with the 20 other things my landlord had kept pushing off.

I thought I saw him staring then too, but like most strangers, I see in public, I just gave a brief smile and moved on with my day. Though in New York, I'm still learning that isn't a regular thing here. Many native New Yorkers could go the whole day not making eye contact with a single soul on the overpopulated streets.

I brushed past the fact he was studying me like I was him, as if we were both looking for an answer to a question we didn't even know.

Tony turned all of our attention back to him as he introduced me to them briefly and promptly gave them death glares. Clearly, they were waiting on something from him, and he wasn't showing patience for what I assume were usual antics between the two with how they talked to each other.

"Cyborge and Birdman, this is Ms. Clark. She's Morgan's teacher. Ms. Clark, these are two of my most impatient co-workers. Who I asked to give me a second before I talked with them…"

"Thank this one for the interruption," James said while childishly shoving his friend to the point he teetered on his feet.

"Just seemed rude to not introduce your colleagues," Sam gritted.

"It's fine," I spoke up, attempting to break some of the tension building. And instantly, Mr. Barnes's eyes were back on me like they had been in the coffee shop. But I acted like I didn't notice and turned to Mr. Stark. "I was here to just drop off these two things anyway."

I handed the folder off successfully this time since his attention was turned to the other two, and he took it while staring at them still.

"Yeah, well, I had a few things I wanted to discuss without… This interruption." If looks could kill, his co-workers would be in a casket 6 feet under right where they stood.

"I appreciate what you're offering, but I've already told you I have a job set with another district after this year."

James Barnes was grinning like a child who just got revenge, but why, I wasn't sure.

"Yeah, but… Money." Tony said the last word like it was a magic word that would make me reconsider everything instantly and fold.

"Money is great and all, but it's not what this is about, Mr. Stark." I couldn't help but laugh even if deep down I knew the risk I was taking not accepting his proposal. I went to readjust my tote on my shoulder as a nervous tic. "Maybe after winter break and I get some paperwork back from the new school I'll be at, we will better understand what I'll have on my plate."

"That sounds like a well-worded way to put this conversation off," Tony smirked.

He wasn't wrong. I had worded it specifically as a way to keep it on the table for him knowing he'd never relent, but also to be able to walk away from the conversation and not get convinced out of my already made-up mind.

"It's Christmas break, Mr. Stark. Have a great vacation with your family, and happy holidays," I nodded, starting to turn out to walk, but before I was completely turned back, I looked at the other two men. "You two as well. I hope the world is kind enough to give you all a break as you deserve during this time."

It was true. Crime and bad guys never ended, from what the news showed, and I couldn't imagine what big holidays looked like around here.

"If I know anything about teaching, I know you'll need a break just as much," Sam shouted towards me after I was a few feet away, making me laugh.

"Happy Holidays," I said a final time before moving for the exit, thankful that the two men were there to distract Tony from trying to convince me to join his payroll.

___________________________

"Oh sweet loving sister of mine, I'm home," I shouted in a sing-song voice but was abruptly cut off when I shut the door, and she stood on the other side like a damn statue. "Mother Fu-! Hallie!" I shouted after a scream let out of me first. "Why the hell are you acting like a Victorian ghost-child and standing there like that?"

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" she said, quickly bypassing how she made my heart practically stop beating for 5 seconds too long.

"I told you I was going to run errands," I answered vaguely, already knowing where she was going with this but not wanting to give her the advantage.

"Yeah, errands don't normally involve going to the Avenger's Compound!" she shouted with her arms up as she watched me walk into the kitchen and follow me.

"Jesus, lower your voice. We have neighbors," I grumbled, throwing my bag on the hooks on the wall and taking my coat off as well.

"Answers, please," she crossed her arms like a mother who had just caught her daughter sneaking out to a party.

"I had to drop off something that Morgan left at the school. I figured she'd want her coat for winter break," I answered honestly, just leaving out a few other details.

"Like she wouldn't have a whole room for winter coats alone. Why did you really go?" Hallie continued to interrogate.

I looked at her, and she was unwavering. I let out a huff of air, going to the fridge to grab a Dr. Pepper and the sweet cream to make my favorite drink after an eventful day.

"I'm not lying when I said I went to drop that off," I said, pouring the soda into a glass and waiting for the foaming bubbles to go down. "And you know exactly why I didn't tell you I was going there."

"You act like I'd go insane if I stepped a single foot on that estate," she groaned, pulling a stool out at our island/ kitchen table in the tiny New York City apartment we shared. "Even if Captain Roger's has walked on those tiles and maybe breathed in the same air and all…"

"Here we go…" I mumbled, shaking the creamer bottle as I waited for what I knew was to come.

"And so what if Natasha Romanoff has probably sat in the chairs or road the elevator that leads to what I assume are suites and apartments they have to themselves on the top levels?" she paused for effect as if waiting for me to confirm or deny as if I would know. But I just stared at her, and she continued without hesitation. "It's no big deal that Sam Wilson has probably flown the EX0-7 Falcon wingsuit in the field that surrounds the compound. Or maybe even hearing Steve playing an old jazz record. I know that cause there was a girl who used to live on his street when he stayed in the city, and she said there were a few nights that he would play all kinds of old songs with beautiful trumpet solos. Oh, and!"

I absentmindedly poured the practiced amount of sweet cream into the Dr. Pepper, grabbed a straw to stir it, and took sips of it as I patiently waited for her to finish her fantasies.

She went on about Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, and any other Avenger that came to mind until she noticed me stop sipping my drink and start to slow-blink at her.

"Stop. I know that look," she pointed, stopping in her rant abruptly.

"What the you-just proved-my-point look?" I fluttered my eyelashes at her and took another sip.

"Shut up," she sneered, even though she knew I was right.

As if he had just realized people were home, her small senior brown-haired and deaf dog came hobbling around the corner and yipped when he looked at me.

"Hey, Chuck Norris," I sighed, and he came up to me, barking at my leg like I was an intruder in my own home. "I still don't think he's used to me."

"You say that like you didn't live with him for 10 years," Hallie laughed, walking over and picking him up with one hand and cradling him in her arm.

"Three of those years were just visits back home. I figured after a month of you being moved in here, his memory would catch up to realize I'm still the same person when we first rescued him."

Chuck Norris was a tiny little mutt my sister had found behind a dumpster in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel close to where we lived when we were younger.

The vet had said he was already about four or five when we brought him in, but he had no microchips or anything showing he belonged to someone. He was also malnourished from only eating scraps that fell out of the dumpster since he wasn't big enough to scrounge through it himself. So he came with a laundry list of things he needed fixing with his tiny weak body.

We only ever had one cat growing up, so it was a responsibility my parents weren't too sure about taking on. But my sister being who she is, made a presentation the next night and was able to persuade them to let her keep him for at least a month to show she could handle it.

After a month, they saw how special of a dog he was to her and how she was practically the only one he trusted, and they couldn't just send him to the pound after that.

The laundry list of illnesses and help he was going to need to get him back on his feet led to a lot of medical bills in his future. But luckily, an old friend of mine I had gone to high school with went into Veterinary school and helped my family out a few times since we were still close.

Now Chuck Norris lived here, and he didn't care that I, even if I was paying most of the bills, lived here along with him. He only trusted one person wholeheartedly in his life, and that was my sister.

Now being 14, possibly 15 years old, his eyes weren't great, and he was almost a hundred percent deaf besides sharp noises he happened to hear every once in a while. I'm almost positive he had some form of dementia, too, cause he treated me like a stranger most of the time.

He must have been sleeping when I came in cause a lot of times, if he sees my walk in, he's at my feet barking and acting like he's going to be the one to bring an end to the big monster that teases and picks at his mom.

As for the name… Don't ask. My sister's an anomaly, and that's the only answer I have to give for that.

"Back to the question at hand," my sister continued, and I groaned overdramatically before walking to the couch with my drink and turning the TV on. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to see the Tony Stark?!"

"First off, I think you answered that question when you went on your little tangent of extremely specific details. You've for sure daydreamed about the Avengers, you nerd," I started, looking up at her where she stood by the coffee table with the glossy-eyed brown mutt in her hand, who I couldn't tell was looking at me or the window that was behind me. "And second, who's to say I even saw Mr. Stark? I was just dropping off a sweater, and I could have very well just left it at reception and carried on with my day."

"It's the fact you're saying it all as a 'could have' scenario instead of just saying you did," she deadpanned.

She had me there, and that one was on me.

"It's not like it's the first time I've ever met him. He is the parent of one of my students, so it's not a big deal to me anymore," I brushed it off and looked to the TV, and started mindlessly scrolling through the evening shows.

She immediately cut off my view by standing right in front of it.

"Move," I said, peeking my head around her body, which she quickly blocked again.

"Once, I'm asking once, that I get to meet him," she bargained.

"Eventually. Just not before the break. We're all tired and have been busy, him, I'm sure more than anyone, and I don't think the compound is where he wants to worry about crazy obsessed fans bombarding him," I looked at her with a big-sister stare. "Now, the whole thing is already over and done. Can I please just drink this and watch an episode of this documentary I've been waiting to decompress to all day?"

As if I was asking too much and the universe needed to humble me, the coat rack I had hung my coat and tote bag earlier fell to the floor with a harsh crash.

I didn't even look in the direction of the latest home improvement added to the list, but instead closed my eyes and sat up some.

"Classic," I mumbled and started to move to the closet we kept our toolbag in, but before I could stand up, Hallie stopped me.

"Don't. I bargained with the building repair man to come tomorrow instead of making us wait another week," she said, looking back at the damage. "He can do that as an extra fix for being an ass."

"How'd you manage that?"

I looked at her, impressed, considering the guy was a nuisance and very much a man's man. In other words, "How could two girls on their own ever manage without a big strong man to come and save them when things fell apart?" I think he got off on being able to make us wait for him when it came to things we couldn't actually fix. Talk about a savior complex.

"I said I had to bake some cookies for one of my classes and said I would bake some extra if he came sooner," she shrugged.

"You're a musical theater major. What class is having you bake cookies?" I gave her a weird look.

"None. I just didn't want him to think I was baking them just for him," she said with a witty smile.

"Attagirl," I chuckled, patting the couch next to me. "Just for that, I'll let you pick which documentary we binge tonight."

"Why is it always with the documentaries?" she huffed, sitting next to me despite acting like she was upset with the option.

"Don't lie and act like you don't get sucked in." I stood up and put the now half-empty drink down. "I'm going to change, but look through the ones we've already started and pick from those."

"Does Unsolved Supernatural with Shane and Ryan count?" I heard her shout as I turned into my room.

Normally the answer was no, but I could go for something fun and not so serious.

"Sure, but pick a good episode!" I shouted back. "Let Christmas break commence…"

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