#i might be dropping my therapist soon but he said some things right and i didnt want to believe him because i thought i didnt deserve it bu

[pureblisswrites]

A guide to getting kidnapped and escaping 101

Chapter 1: The Schrödinger's Kat

Prologue

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in closer towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

Pairing: afab! Psychologist! Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, slow burn, comedy (an attempt was made)

Summary: You are a fairly renowned psychologist and therapist but definitely not renowned enough to be getting kidnapped in the middle of the night. Is it one of your past patients with a criminal record? You don't know what the kidnapper wants but now you finally find out.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

"Going somewhere doc?"

"Um no?" You try to lie. It was like your brain had turned into mush now that you were face to face with this scary unknown man.

He sighed deeply at your poor attempt at lying. "Please follow me." He said to you politely and started going into the direction you had come from. He didn't even turn once to see if you were following or not. You could try to run away but you doubted it would be useful in any way. So your best bet for now was to follow him. You saw as he removed his blood stained gloves swiftly and just dropped them on a table in the hallway, seemingly not bothered at all by the fact that he was staining the table in the process too. After many turns and taking a fucking lift to the 3rd floor, you finally reached the apparent destination as he opened a door and stepped to the side. "After you." He bowed lightly.

You stepped in to see the huge room. From the walls to the furniture, everything was the darkest shade of black. It had a huge glass window through which you could see the view of the city. The room was designed like an office of a rich ceo or something. A black table in the middle. With chairs on both sides. And a bookcase on the wall parallel to the window. It definitely did not have the kind of books you'd read because you could see a thick file with the word 'contracts' stamped on it with red. Another one was labeled as '0325 blueprints' with a black sharpie in messy handwriting.

That was all your eyes could take in before he cleared his throat and gestured for you to sit on a chair and took a seat behind the desk. "I apologise for staining your shirt. I'll have your clothes delivered to you soon." He said while folding his jacket's sleeves till his elbows. And oh his hands are very veiny for some reason.

"Uh... my clothes?" You ask in perplexity. Talking about clothes though, you notice he's wearing a black jacket with a red rose on it over his plain black shirt. You are just grateful his clothes aren't splashed with blood now.

"Oh right. I'm sure you would have many questions." No shit sherlock. "Please ask away whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer as long as the questions are appropriate." Appropriate? What did he think you were gonna question him about? His love life? Egoistical bastard. You wanted to roll your eyes but you would rather not test him for now.

"So... who are you?" The most important question. And the first one you asked your clients, although you had their information files with you. Oh how you wished you could have his information file.

"You can call me Chris." He answered with a slight and what you could only call proud smile. Did this guy really think he gave you a good answer? This was not some introductions meeting, you wanted to know what he did. Guess you'll have to be straight forward with him. Afterall he did say you could ask anything.

"What... work do you do?" You make sure to not say anything he might find offensive. Because you should be worrying about such a thing after seeing him literally splattered with blood.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. It's... confidential, let's just say." Yeah you kind of knew he wouldn't tell you about him possibly committing murders just yet.

"Fine. Why am I here?"

"To cure me." He says while fidgeting with the two silver chain bracelets he's wearing on his wrists.

"Of what?" You question with furrowed brows.

"Uh I- I think I might be, and I don't know for sure of course, um going crazy." He mumbled nervously, a contradiction from the way he appeared in front of his men.

Now that interested you. Okay so maybe you were writing a potentially illegal research paper on criminals and their psychology but you couldn't agree to this, right? You did have access to talk to a handful of criminals but always under the surveillance of a camera with guards there. You couldn't ask the questions you wanted to. Not without raising suspicions about if you, yourself were a bit crazy. Plus he didn't look too threatening now that he wasn't covered in blood. And what will he even get out of hurting or murdering you? Atleast he wasn't one of the psychopaths whom you had reported to be sent in an asylum and he screamed "I'll kill you one day" and a bunch of other stuff you didn't wish to remember again as he was dragged away by the guards. And it wasn't like this man was hard to look at. Yes pretty privilege and the halo effect were very much really. You were a mere human afterall.

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here." You knew exactly why you were here by now but hearing what he had to say wouldn't hurt.

"Aren't you a doctor specifically for that?" He asked as if you were dumb. Maybe he was thinking you were stupid. Which is great. You don't want him thinking or rather, knowing that you're too smart, too soon.

"So... you need help?" You ask as if you are still confused.

"Whatever way you wanna put it I guess." So he couldn't even accept the fact that he needed help yet. Great.

"And you couldn't come to the hospital I work at like a normal person for that?"

"What do you think?" He raises an eyebrow and you have to accept he looks ridiculously attractive while doing so. Get it together, you scold yourself. "Look I can't tell you what it is that I do. But I think you're smart enough to know it's not something that allows me to just walk into government owned institutions." Oh you knew.

"I don't see how that's my problem? You couldn't find a private therapist or something?" Now this is something you hadn't actually figured out yet. Surely just hiring a private psychologist would be lot easier than whatever he was doing.

"Unfortunately for you and fortuantely for me, I don't settle for anything less than the best. And no private people were as qualified as you." Oh?

"How do you even know that?" You ask, now in actual confusion.

"A friend of mine attended your seminar on psychodynamic theory last year and he was thoroughly impressed by you. He was actually the one who reccomended you." Okay what the fuck? Only top detectives and goverment officers were allowed to attend that event as you had to go through some truly disturbing and stomach churning cases to explain your points. How did he even have friends there?

"How lucky for me." You remark sarcastically.

"I know this might be a difficult situation for you to adjust to and I'm deeply sorry for that. But please understand that there was no other way." He explains while brushing his dark hair out of his face.

"Oh sure, as if you couldn't just, I don't know drop by my home for a few sessions? Why do I have to be held captive to help you!?" Now you have to put your 2 years of being in drama club in high school to good use. You have to let him think you are just so distressed by this situation, as any normal person would be.

"What? No, no. You're not 'held captive' as you put it. I just needed to get you under my protection if I wanted to do this." Just as you think this man can't surprise you anymore, he says something that makes no sense in the image you are trying to put together of him.

"Why?"

"You don't think I've got people who are just dying to know my secrets that no one else does and the ones you'll get to know soon enough? They can kidnap you and not with the intention of getting... 'help', but with the intention of hurting you, unlike me. And I can't let that happen just because I'm an idiot who thinks there's something wrong with me." As soon as you heard the sentence "that no else does and the ones you'll get to know" your brain was overflowing with serotonin. In a world where everything was already discovered and no one kept secrets from you anymore, this sounded like the best reward you could get after hearing people's mediocre stories about their trust issues because that one boy broke their heart in 5th grade.

"'Think'? I haven't even talked to you that much yet and I already know there's a lot wrong with you. You don't think you can just murder people or do whatever it is that you do and live with a healthy conscience do you?" The fact that he "thought" there was something wrong with him was laughable at the best and sad at the least.

He sighed again. "Right. But I want you to know that I'm not gonna force you to do this. If you don't want to do this, you're free to go. I mean you'll definitely need atleast a month of protection by my men because I know the news of you being here would've already reached to my... rivals, let's just put it that way."

"That reminds me, care to tell me how long have I been here for?"

He looks at his expensive looking watch before answering. "Somewhere between 20 to 22 hours." So it hadn't even been a day yet and his 'rivals' already knew about you being here? Just who was this man? He was like a messily wrapped present flowing wtih intrigue and enigma. So there was only one right answer at this point right?

"Kat and Nemo." You say, finally telling him the decision you made a while ago.

"Huh?"

"My pets. Get them here as soon as you can. They haven't eaten all day today, Oh my God."

"So- wait- does- does that mean you're doing this?" He asks in disbelief.

"No I just want to leave my pets here." You roll your eyes. "Of course, are you really that dense? And while you're at it, get my phone and laptop too." You could finally talk to him freely now that he had said he wouldn't hurt you... you think.

"Oh sorry I just still can't believe you agreed and-" he says incredulously.

"I'm sure we can talk later after you get my pets here." You get up to go to whatever room it was you were in.

"Where are you going?" He questions, standing up too.

"Back to that dungeon." You turn back to look at him.

"It's not a dungeon okay. If you don't like it, you can have another room." He stands right in front you.

"Fine then let me stay in your room." Yes he was hot but that wasn't the reason okay. Atleast not the only one. Maybe you would be able to study him more if you spent more time with him. For research, of course.

"What?" He asked dumbfoundedly. You were sure if he was drinking something right now, he would've choked.

"You heard me."

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in very close towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat." He whispers to you. So afterall he wasn't as dumb to not figure out your motivations yet. Yeah you didn't really do good in the drama club anyways.

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

"Unfortunately nothing that is killed ever comes back to life." He says as if he's experienced it himself.

"Schrödinger's cat." You reply and watch his brows furrow. Of course he wouldn't know what that means.

"What does that mean?" He squints his eyes.

"Maybe I'll tell you some day." You shrug.

He rolls his eyes at that. "I'll send the contract to your room. Read it before signing." Wow so now you'll have to sign a contract? As if things couldn't get any more weird.

You were willing to do anything to unwrap the messily wrapped present that 'Chris' was. And maybe that was the first mistake you made before making many others that will lead you somwhere you couldn't even imagine yet.

A/N: look who posted finally after a whole month. I'm sorry for being late lol.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Tags: @scuzmunkie @obeythemasters

#stray kids #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids mafia au #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan mafia au #pureblisswrites #stray kids crime au #mafia au #chan x you #chan x reader #chan x y/n #bang chan fic #bang chan imagines #skz #bang chan x female reader #stray kids bang chan #christopher bang #bang christopher chan #chris bang #skz au

[hopelessromantic423]

Back to Where We Started

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After the blip, you fell off the grid. One random day Bucky Barnes shows up at your door and you two have a lot more than just aliens to talk about.

Warnings: lonely reader, talks about the blip in general, kissing, Bucky calling you sweetheart, a little too much dialogue, idk you might hate it you might like it. Angst??

A/N: howdy! I’m too lazy to proofread so be warned.

After the battle against Thanos, you kinda fell off the grid. You didn't talk to Bucky or Sam, nobody. Trying to understand being blipped and how you jumped into a battle you had just lost, it took a tole mentally.

You sat in your apartment floor, sorting though five years worth of mail that was packed in a large sack. You'd smile at the few birthday cards or Christmas cards. Then you'd cry after seeing cards and letters that made you remember all the time you missed.

You were about half way through the mess when a loud knock appeared at your door. "Give me a minute," you called struggling to step over the many empty envelopes.

You didn't care to peek through the peephole, thinking it was some religious order, you unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Bucky," you said in complete shock.

He looked good and more put together than he had ever appeared. His chestnut brown hair was short and he wore a nice black coat that fit like a good jacket should. His eyes were full of worry like a thousand thoughts were filling his brain the moment he laid eyes on you.

You forgot how nice it was too see a familiar face. You and Bucky had always been close. At one point you thought of him as your best friend, and crush. Right on the battle, you told him you loved him. You really did love him. You still do.

So the minute you saw him, all you could do was embrace him. Your arms wrapped around him and his quickly did the same. Before you could notice, a few tears had fallen on his jacket from your cheeks.

Finally you pulled away simultaneously wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Sorry, I'm just really happy to see you James."

"No ones heard from you, I just needed to know you were alive. I was really worried about you."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Why don't you come in," you motioned. "Don't mind the pile of mail."

"I had some too. Luckily it all went to the compound so Steve took care of it."

"You cut your hair," you mumbled awkwardly as he stepped over your pile of mail.

"I did. I remembered how much you begged me to cut it, so I just went for it."

"To be clear, I was right,” you smirked while feeling your cheeks getting red by the second. “It really frames your face perfectly."

"So how's the team?” You leaned against your kitchen countertop as you asked. “Did Steve take the stones back?"

Bucky's face immediately dropped. "Steve he dropped off the stones and then um.. he stayed in the past. He's 102 now. Wrinkles and all."

"Oh." The lull of silence filled the room soon followed by a "yea," by Bucky.

"Well, how are you? Are you still at the compound."

"I moved back to Brooklynn, and under my pardon I'm seeing a therapist."

"Is she a good therapist?"

One hum out of Bucky and a uncertain facial expression gave you all the answer you needed.

"What happened Y/N?"

"After the battle, I was just done. I was trying to piece together the blip and then we won a battle we had just lost. I just fell off the grid and went back to the one place I knew and that was here. Luckily it hadn't been touched, but I know that's not the case for many people."

"You could've called me, you could've called any of us."

"Everyone is going through the same thing Buck, why bother someone if the problem isn't that special."

"Sweetheart, are you saying you're not special?"

Your eyes glanced up and he could see the tears starting to line them. He took your shaky hands in his to get a better look at you and immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.

"You are nothing but special Y/N. Don't ever feel you're not worthy of help," Bucky's chest buzzed while he spoke while the top of your head stayed tucked under his chin.

"What happened to us Buck?" Sometime after you mumbled your question into his chest, Bucky pulled away but still left his hands resting on your back.

"Loaded question there," he looked down at you with his usual comedic smile. Although, it faded quickly when he saw the serious expression written in your face.

"Sorry, kind of coping with humor at the moment," just as he went to his cheesy self, he was back to the awkward Bucky you knew all too well. "Do you remember the moments right before we all, ya know, dusted?"

"Like it was yesterday," you answered quietly. It broke Bucky's heart as you stared at your hands shyly.

Everyone watched in terror as Sam dusted into a grey flaky material. You ran up to Bucky hoping he wouldn't succumb the same future.

"Bucky, I need to tell you something."

"Hm?" He asked in shock

"I love you," you said trying not to cry, but soon his hand started turning to flakes like Sam

"Y/N," he muttered before his body fell to the ground turning to dust.

What felt like a few seconds later, you could see your hands turning dusty and all you saw was white.

Bucky’s hand cupped your face lightly, taking you out of your daydream state. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, like he could read every thought that was going through your brain.

"Y/N," he said in an almost whisper. His thumb now tracing back and forth lightly against your cheek.

"I love you too. I always have."

A warm smile spread to your face as he said the words you had hoped to hear all that time ago. All you wanted to do in that moment was take a photograph of Bucky’s grin as looked down at you.

“Can I kiss you now?” His tone was close to an excited high schooler. All you did was nod and there was little time before your lips met in a soft sweet kiss. Bucky’s arms pulled your closer by your waist as your hands snaked up towards his shoulders.

"I missed you Buck,” you muttered in between kisses.

Bucky stopped for a second to look you right in your eyes and whispered, "I missed you too sweetheart,” before kissing you once more.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #Fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes angst

[howlingday]

How about some Jaune Strife and Yang fluff (I need the positivity at the moment)

Jaune panted as he sat up in his bed. His safe, warm, comfortable bed. He felt around his legs and sighed in relief. No accidents tonight. He looked to the time and saw it was still early.

It was Saturday, which means no classes. He climbed out of bed, accepting that he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. He shut his eyes and he could still see the fire.

After rushing through his morning routine, he crept out of the dorm. He looked back to his team sleeping soundly. Pyrrha cuddled her pillow, probably dreaming about a crush. Ren slept under undisturbed sheets, envious of how peaceful his sleep was. Nora snored partially into her drool-soaked pillow, her butt pointed high in the air. With a smile, he left without anyone noticing.

"Wassup, Lady Killer?" Jaune flinched and whirled at the voice. Yang smiled in the dimly lit halls at Jaune, giving a small wave to him. "You're up early."

"Y-Yeah." He sighed. "I couldn't sleep." Yang quirked a brow. "I mean, I could- or, well, I did, but..."

"Easy, Vomit Boy." Yang held up a hand. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thanks." He took a deep breath. "What are you doing up?"

"I promised your mom I would drop by this morning for some early morning practice." Jaune then noticed the duffel bag. "You wanna join me?"

"Sure." They began walking down the hall. "I kinda need to ask Mom something anyway."

"Like what?" Yang asked, holding back her teasing to avoid him telling Tifa and getting a twenty-minute speed round on the bag.

"I, uh, had a bad dream." Oh, he was making this so hard for her.

"Uh, what, uh-" Yang exhaled to avoid being caught smiling. "What was your dream about?"

"My parents being murdered."

"Oh." That was a hell of a way to shift a mood. Yang was no stranger to nightmares, especially ones involving the death of a parent. The weeks after Summer died were the worst of her young life. She wouldn't call herself an expert on the subject, but she could help with an open ear. She just needed one thing from him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jaune was quiet for a long while. He didn't say anything until they were already on the ground floor from the elevator. But the second the doors opened, so did he.

"Yeah, I think it'll help." He swallowed and Yang stayed close the entire walk. "Everything started out dark, but then everything was on fire. I heard a scream, and Mom was on the floor. Then I saw Dad fighting some guy against the flames. He even pulled out his super-move, but then..."

"Jaune?" Yang tapped his balled up hand, and he exhaled. "You good?"

"Yeah." He huffed. "After Dad, then guy came for me. I wanted to run away, but," Jaune shook his head, "I couldn't even move."

"It might have been the sheets."

"Huh?"

"Your bed sheets." Yang explained. "Sometimes when I can't run in my sleep, it's because my legs are wrapped up in my sheets."

"Uh, y-yeah, I guess."

"Sorry, I thought explaining it would help you deal- er, cope with it."

Jaune chuckled as they approached the bullhead station. "You're a terrible therapist."

"At least I'm trying!" Yang pouted, sitting down with a huff.

"I know." He sat next to her. "And I'm glad you're here with me."

The way he smiled at her, and the way he said that, it all made her heart beat faster. Choosing to ignore this feeling, Yang coughed into her fist and looked away.

"Keep going. I'll, uh, look out for a bullhead."

"Well, after that, I just woke up. I don't remember much else."

"What about what he looked like?"

"Well, it was dark-"

"But there was a fire, and your dad fought him using his sword, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Did the other guy catch it with his hand or something?"

"No, he had a sword, too." The memory became clearer to him. "A really long one. Kind of like a katana."

The bullhead docked, and they boarded. Yang rubbed Jaune's back as they departed. He sat next to garbage can furthest from the pilot, as he was scolded to do so many times before. As Yang rubbed, she noticed how broad his back was, and how thick the mucles in her grasp were. Blushing again, she looked away. Jaune didn't throw up this time, which he was proud of.

"Anything else about him?" Yang asked as they left the station. "Was it a him?"

"I think so, yeah." Jaune nodded. "He mumbled something but I can't remember what. His voice was kind of gravelly."

"Anything else?" Yang asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know if you'd believe it if I told you." He shook his head. "I can't even believe it."

"Hit me." Yang said.

"He had a wing."

"Like a Faunus wing?"

"No, his was," Jaune scrunched his brow, "bigger, and not part of his arm. And he only had one."

"Hm..." Yang rounded the corner, now a block away from their destination. "Sounds like a wuss to me."

"Huh?"

"This guy in your dream. He sounds really pathetic, when you think about it. I mean, he has a really long katana, a deep, gravelly voice, and only one wing. It sounds like a guy who's always losing."

"But my dad-"

"Was probably caught off guard. It was dark, right? He probably snuck up on him in the shadows instead of fighting like a real man." She punched his shoulder. "Heck, you could probably beat him, so there's nothing to worry about!"

"Thanks, Yang." They stopped in front of the bar/training gym. Jaune hugged her, giving a good squeeze with it. "For everything."

"N-No problem." Yang felt light-headed, but in a good way. The warm hug reminded her a lot of the ones back home. The ones she got from her dad... and her mom. She returned the hug with hum.

"Ahem!" The two separated as Tifa glared at the two of them, but mostly at Yang. ESPECIALLY Yang. "Jaune, I'm glad you came to visit. Yang, you're late."

"Oh, really, I, uh-"

"It's my bad, Mom." Jaune spoke up. "Yang was helping me with something, so we kind of got distracted."

"Mm, alright." Tifa turned away. "Your father is still asleep, so we'll try to keep it down."

After she walked inside, Yang let out a sigh. "Thanks for the save."

"No problem." Jaune smiled. "You'd save me if I needed it, right?"

"Yeah." Yang smiled back. "Yeah, I would."

#rwby #rwby au #jaune arc #yang xiao long #dragonslayer #jaune strife au #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #tifa lockhart

[fraybay]

Little Secret

A/N: Reposting this since tumblr finally got it together and my posts now show up on tags. I hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Rockstar!OFC

———-

Hate the fact that you gotta wait, but you gon’ wait  ‘Cause you confident that we soulmates I told my therapist about you She always takes your side Ain’t nobody I love more, I just need more time

Marley sighed as her phone rang and buzzed across the counter in front of her. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she reached out to silence it.

“You don’t think making that his ringtone is a little overkill?” Kia, her hairstylist shook her head and locked eyes with her in the mirror, “Also, it’s been three weeks. You know he’s just going to keep calling and texting, right?"

She snorted, “Let him seethe. It’s what he deserves for embarrassing me.”

The other woman gently squeezed her shoulders before she returned to working on her hair, “Mar, the public doesn’t even know about you two. As far as they know, you two are just friends who met while featuring on Nas’ song a few years ago.”

“You know,” the singer held up her hand and started counting, “All of Purple Hull knows. All of Private Garden knows. Our close industry friends know. I couldn’t care less about the public, but he’s not going to embarrass me in front of our friends!”

Kia started to respond, but Marley kept ranting, “And what’s worse is he did it on some snake shit. How do you play me every song but that one before the album drops?” She crossed her arms, “Because he knew his ass was going to be in trouble. So, he can go be with the rest of his fucking roster. I’m a generational talent. He ain’t bout to play me like I’m in the G-League when I’m clearly a Luka.”

Riley, who had been silently observing their exchange from her seat on the couch, finally spoke up to ask, “You’re going to curse him out tonight, aren’t you?”

“If he keeps his distance, no,” she huffed.

Riley pushed herself off the couch, “Let me go change out of these heels into flats, just in case.”

                                *******************************

This is Marley. Sorry to miss your call. I’ve got the machine; you’ve got the message. You know what to do.

With a frustrated groan, Jack hit the end call button on his steering wheel without leaving a message.

He ran a hand through his hair as he spoke to his best friend, “She hasn’t answered me in three weeks, Urb.”

Urban didn’t even glance his way as he responded, “Gee, I wonder why?”

“She’s literally a rockstar,” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “She’s acting like she’s never embellished a song.”

“If you thought the song was fine, you wouldn’t have hidden it from her when you played her the album. Which, by the way, we all told you was a terrible plan.” Urban took a hit of his blunt before he continued, “You gotta admit, ‘but you gon wait’ does make her sound like a lost puppy following you around just waiting for you to decided she’s good enough to commit to.”

“No one even knows it’s about her,” he argued.

“No one outside of our circles knows it’s about her,” Urban corrected, “but y'all both travel with big ass entourages, bro. We’re easily in the double digits of people who know about you two and your complicated ass relationship.”

“I said good things about her in that song and on Poison,” he defended.

Urban laughed, “Shit, don’t take any drinks from her tonight. She might actually poison your ass, but like the bad kind.”

Jack reached over to lightly smack his friend on the shoulder, “You stay thinking you’re funny and this ain’t it.”

Urban shrugged and took another drag, “As long as I’m laughing, I could give a fuck if you do.”

Jack flipped him off before he turned the radio up to end the conversation.

                               *******************************

As soon as they entered the venue, the rest of Marley’s band and her team headed straight to the bar or dance floor.

Marley decided to make her way over to the man of the hour to get her well wishes out of the way since she knew as the night wore on, more people would be showing up. She climbed up the spiral staircase to the VIP section and gave her name to the bouncer standing guard. After he let her in, she made a beeline for Nas.

As soon as he saw her, he pulled her in for a hug while exclaiming, “Marley!”

“Nas!” She pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped around his waist, and looked up at him, “How’s my favorite rapper?”

He flashed her a big grin as he answered, “Oh, he’s sulking around here somewhere since you ducking calls and texts.”

The singer dropped her arms and nudged him with her shoulder, “Imma be nice to you since it’s your birthday, but know that you need to get your jokes in now because that carriage changes into a pumpkin at midnight and I’m gonna drag your ass.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He reached out and pinched her cheek, “You love me too much to be mad at me for more than 2 seconds.”

“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it!”

He slung an arm around her shoulder as he asked, “Just do me a favor, okay?”

She shot him a skeptical look as she inquired, “What?”

“There are private rooms in the hallway right off the bathrooms. If you’re gonna give him hell, do it in one of those?” he pleaded.

Marley pretended to be offended, “Are you saying I’m gonna cause a scene?”

Nas laughed, “Girl, I’ve seen you in a mosh pit. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

                               *******************************

Marley leaned against the bar, sipping on her whiskey sour. She felt someone slide into the seat next to her and she knew, before she even looked over, exactly who it would be.

“So how long do you plan on pretending I don’t exist, pretty girl?” Jack tried to keep his face and posture neutral since he knew cameras were around to cover the party, “Because I’m only in LA for the next 5 days and you’re wasting time we could be spending together.”

Marley scoffed, “I’m giving you the time you so publicly requested.”

He rolled his eyes, “I do believe the song said I needed more time, not space.”

“Well, as you know from experience, I’ve always been a generous lover so I’m kind enough to give you both.” She turned toward him to look him up and down, “You’re welcome.”

Marley downed her drink, set the glass back on the bar, and slid off the bar stool to walk away, but Jack lightly grabbed her arm and gently guided her back into the space between his open legs.

Even though he was sitting, and Marley was standing, their height difference still required him to lean down a bit to whisper in her ear, “I know Nas gave you the same directions as me so we can either head to one of those back rooms or you can cause a scene, Marley girl.” Jack released her arm, “Your choice.”

Marley took a step away from him and turned around to glare at him before she motioned towards the bathrooms, “I’ll follow. You don’t get the privilege of watching this ass walk in front of you.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at her statement as he stood and began making his way through the crowd with Marley holding onto the back of his shirt to make sure that they didn’t get separated.

Once they found an unoccupied room, he opened the door to allow her to enter first, but she just stared at him until he entered first. Once Marley entered the room, she shut the door and locked it before she leaned against it.

Jack started to reach out to pull her toward him, but she held up a hand to stop him. He dropped his arms and reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“You’re seriously bothered by this?” he demanded.

Marley snorted, “What gave you that impression, Jack? My lack of response to you or the fact I didn’t share your album on my socials.”

He crossed his arms as he questioned, “And what about all the other stuff that you know is about you?” He waited for her to answer and when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to he asked, “So, you don’t care that Poison is about you and that I got Wayne on it since he’s your all-time fave rapper? Don’t care I gave a nod to you in Like A Blade of Grass since you always say I remind you of the class clown from your high school ap classes?”

He placed a hand on each side of her head against the door, invading her personal space but not touching her, “Is that the only thing my Marley girl is mad about?” Marley’s eyes fluttered close as he leaned down to huskily murmur in her ear, “Are you also mad that I told the world about the mirrors you had me install in my house so you could watch how well you take me? Are you mad I hinted that you let me tape us?”

Jack caressed her face and she leaned into his touch. He trailed a finger along her jaw until he reached her ear, and he flicked the hoop that adorned it, “Are you mad that I told the world about how I fuck the earrings off of you?” He chuckled at the way Marley’s breath hitched as he moved his body flush against hers and nuzzled her neck, “If all these people listening to the album only knew how many of these damn hoops you’ve made replace.”

“Fuck you,” Marley ground out through gritted teeth, hating the way her body always reacted to Jack’s onslaughts.

She yelped as Jack lightly bit her neck before he admonished, “Fuck me? Seems like instead of worrying about earrings, I need to fuck the brat out of you.”

His rebuke felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured on her and snapped Marley out of her reverie. She pushed him away from her, “I’m not being a brat, Jackman, and you’re not about to fuck your way to forgiveness.” She sighed, “It’s not even really about the song. I mean, I really hate it, but the fact that you intentionally lied to me is fucked up and you know it.”

Jack held up both hands in defense at the use of his full name, “I didn’t lie.”

“A lie by omission, Jackman, is still a lie,” she asserted. “You and I have always been honest with each other about what this is and how we feel. You knew I wouldn’t like it and chose to wait until it was too late for me to give you hell and have you change it.”

“Fine,” he acquiesced, “I shouldn’t have done it. My bad. Can we go back out there now and have a good time?”

“The fact that you think that’s a real apology is wild. But that’s okay. That’s exactly the sort of attitude I’d expect from someone who looks up to Drake.” Marley unlocked the door and swung it open before she turned back to him, “Just remember, you aren’t the only one who writes songs in this equation.”

Before he could respond, Marley stormed off without a single glance back.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x black ofc #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x original black female character

[aleksa-sims]

My RL Sims-Story (18+)

CW: addiction

After my dad kicked me out, I went with Daniel. This is gonna be my new home for a while. But I will also go to Sandra tomorrow and clarify some things with her. Even Philip, I’ll see very soon! Tomorrow he will call me and so we’ll see each other..

Daniel was so sweet to me! I was sad! I didn’t want to leave my sister!! I knew how difficult it was for her. But also my mom! I didn’t want to hurt her! I knew what a big concern she had for me and that I made her sick with it. Actually, only my dad was the problem! About him, I was not sorry at all! 😒 I knew, he loved me and only wanted to protect me, but my dad has that.... dark side that makes him obnoxious and even scared me. He didn’t have those outbursts of rage often, fortunately, but often enough to traumatize me. Especially when Ana and I were very young and he and our mom had so much fighting. I mean, he never got violent, but I was afraid it might happen, The older we got, the less he had this, but when I started doing drugs, it happened more often again. Today he’s much calmer! We can finally talk to each other normally. I think my little son changed my dad but alos my mom a lot. What exactly I mean by that, will explain itself, as soon as they become grandparents. Daniel comforted me and told me, I could stay with him as long as I wanted. He reminded me of what he and I promised each other during our therapy, that we will stick together!

Me: Thank you for letting me staying here! Without you I would be lost! 😢 ...I want the two of us to make it, even if our therapist wants to separate us.

Daniel: She can’t separate us! She just wants to teach us how it could work.

Me: Yeah, but she also said, it would be better for us if we were not together! She will explain to us why & that this way, is the right one for both of us. But I don’t want this! I don’t want to leave you! 😟

Daniel: That’s not gonna happen! We just go to our sessions and pretend to listen to her, or you won’t get your prescription.

Me: I know you’re only doing this for me, because I need my pills! So I’ll do what you say.

Daniel: We’re a team! And we decide together what we will do, okay?

Me: Deal! 🙂

A bit later, Dominick came. He wanted to apologize to me, for stealing my drugs. I was going to argue with Dominick about But I decided to drop it go, he didn’t seem well. And Daniel’s kitten 💗 finally woke up, he’s so sweet!

Dominick: How long will you stay here A.?I can drive you home later.

Me: Thanks, but no! I’ll stay with Daniel for a while.

Dominick: Umm..... Did you two move in together? 🤔 ... I got it! You’re pregnant, right?

Daniel: 🤨.....🤦‍♂️

Me: Wow!.... I think Sonja was right! You have a thing for... pregnant women? 😏 😉 Huh? ....🤭

Dominick: What?... Before Sandra, I had never been with a pregnant woman! And so far, I haven’t noticed any difference. S. didn’t really look pregnant to me. But the last time I saw her, a week ago, you could already see, that she will soon have a baby. And....we’re just friends again. I don’t want to drag Sandra into the shit I’m in rn. I don’t want to waste her time! She deserves someone better, someone who’s not as mentally broken as I am. 😕

Me: Hm.... Did you talk to her about this? 🤨

Dominick: Sure! And she was aware of all this weeks ago! We talked a lot. You know? Just like Daniel and you.

Me: Anyway! I’m NOT pregnant! But actually, Daniel and I already have a little baby. THIS ONE! 🐱 Aww...he’s so cute! I will make him the happiest cat in the world.

Dominick: That’s...great! 🤷‍♂️ But don’t forget Daniel! 😉

Me: Never! 🙂.....But this little kitten makes me so happy! I can’t help it, I just love him.

Dominick: You love D., too?

Me: 😦... What's with all the questioning? 🤷‍♀️ This isn't any of your business!! Daniel knows what-......what I feel for him! 😳

Daniel: Don't be such a pain, man!.... I know, she loves me. 😏😉

Then Daniel’s sister came. Her Name is Tatiana. I met T., 2 weeks ago when I also met Daniel’s weird mother. But Tatiana is one of the nicest people I have ever met. She and I liked each other from the beginning. And what I didn’t know at that time is, that Daniel’s sister will become someone very important for my little son in the future. She is a pedagogical child educator and my little one will go to her kids group/day care. But this was no coincidence, I wanted this!! T. was my last hope! Why, I’ll tell sometime later! ...That day, she came to pick up D.’s cat, to take him to a vet because he was vaccinated. I didn’t want her to take our cute kitten! 🙁 But it had to be! She will bring him back to us the next day and even find out, who abandoned the 2 kittens.

When she said goodbye to me, I told her I was gonna stay here with her brother because my dad kicked me out. She said, she’ll always help us if wee need something. 😳 🤍 I really wonder, how Daniel & his sister became such nice and kind people with their crazy mother??

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#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #my rl with my simself #simself #myrlgameplay #18+ content #cw addiction

[clothescomeofff]

Adam came home from class carrying groceries. He walked in and dropped his groceries as he was startled by the man sitting on his couch shirtless with his bare feet propped up on his coffee table.

“Uh, excuse me? Who are you and why are you in my apartment? How’d you even get in?”Adam asked defensively, trying not to stare at the handsome man on his couch and his perfect feet. “Hey man, I’m Liam, the maintenance man. Did you forget I was coming over to do repair at your place all day? You made the appointment“ he giggled.

Adam blushed getting embarrassed “Oh…right, I’m sorry” Adam giggled. “Well that explains that, but why are you sitting on my couch with your shirt off and your feet on my coffee table.” he asked. He really didn’t mind, he just wanted to know. Liam chuckled and wiggled his sweaty toes casually. “Dude cut me some slack. Look around. I finished all the repairs, this place was a nightmare when i got here this morning.” Liam said.

“I finished everything like 20 minutes before you got here. I’ve been working nonstop all day so I took my shirt off and kicked off my boots to take a break and let my feet breathe before heading home. I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon.” he said. “Sorry I’ll go.” he said as he reached for his shirt as he was about to get up. Adam had been putting away his groceries. He felt bad about lashing out on Liam so he walked over with a water bottle for him and without a word he knelt by his feet at the coffee table. Liam opened up the water bottle and took a sip. He was taken aback when Adam started rubbing his feet but after being on his feet all day this was just what he needed. “What are you doing?” Liam asked as Adam rubbed his sweaty soles with his thumbs he’d taken courses on deep tissue massages and knew all the right points to hit. “Stay.“ Adam said.

He looked around as he kept massaging. “I’m sorry, and you’re right, this place looks great. You must’ve worked really hard today. If you’re gonna put your feet on my furniture, at least let me take care of them for you.” Adam offered. “Good deal.” Liam chuckled and laid back as Adam kept rubbing his feet.

"Damn dude you're really good at this. You do this a lot?" Liam asked half jokingly. Adam nodded “yeah I'm a massage therapist. I'm going to school to get my certification. Adam declared proudly.

He looked at him in surprise "That’s cool, so you must like feet huh?" Liam joked "I mean you're willing to go to school to learn how to rub feet, you must like them right? That's pretty cool.” he said once again. Adam giggled softly. "Can I try something else I think you might enjoy? I didn't learn this in school but you pick up a few things here and there”

"Uh sure, what?" Liam asked as Adam raised Liam’s foot towards his face and started flicking his tongue between Liam’s sweaty toes. He made sure to keep eye contact with Liam as he licked between his toes. He watched Liam’s eyes roll back in his head in pleasure as Adam licked his hot sweaty feet. Too far into it to go back, Adam wrapped his lips around Liam’s toes. He eagerly worshipped Liam’s tired feet after a grueling day of work to thank him for all he'd done. After that day Adam kept coming up with reasons to schedule maintenance visits just so he'd have a chance to see Liam again and get under his feet.

#feetworship

[deeznussy]

SAD SAD RANT/VENT POST </3 (abt one piece obvsly BWNSNEND)

I've realised something fundamentally depressing yet honestly kind of sweet???

basically right,, ya'll know how one piece is coming to its final saga so it'll like end soon (like in 5 years or more but still man), I just came to the realisation that awaiting for new chapters and episodes have become such an essential part of my life that I genuinely don't know what I'll do after one piece ends

CALL ME DRAMATIC BUT THIS IS A GENUINE CRISIS IM HAVING GUYS

I was introduced to it by a friend and I'd binged 1000 episodes in like 3 months to catch up to em and now I wait for new eps every week. This has been a part of my schedule since 25/09/21 (yes i jotted down the date I started one piece call me a dork) so now I feel so genuinely lost that I might not have this cycle anymore in a few years ;-; BUT it's also kinda funky to my short attention-span ass that a single anime about dumb pirates worked it's way so deep into my life in barely a year of viewing

NOW COMES THE SAD SAD SHIT

TW: casual talk abt unaliving and my shitty mental health

(I'm okay btw, I'm slowly but surely working on it :> the mental health system is really fucked so I haven't received any proper professional help but I'm holding onto hope that I'll find a good therapist one day!)

I'm gonna be totally transparent with you guys when I say that since the scene where Luffy puts his hat on Nami, one piece has been the sole motivation of me literally keeping living for a good few months now, sounds pathetic but it's true :,)))

for context: i have had recurring lapses of terrible depressive episodes for a good 7 years now and the only way I've ever been able to stop myself from totally offing myself is to literally stuff myself into my bedding with so many blankets that I cannot move, and even that doesn't work the majority of times and i end up with reminders of these episodes. it's in these times where i genuinely can't find reasons to keep living and it's tiring as it takes up the majority of my days. heck, the only reason I'm still alive now is literally because I don't have the energy to take my own life and it's just too much effort.

that's where one piece comes in

when I started I just thought I'd drop it really fast because I can barely keep up on anime with barely a tenth of one piece's current episode count

but no

one piece somehow stuck with me and became such a fucking stable backing in my life to the point I literally thought of it during one of my bad days once and just burst out crying

i was about to commit sewerslide that day.

i didn't though.

all because I remembered a fucking rubber man wearing a strawhat and that one piece is ongoing so if i died right there and then I'll never see Luffy become the pirate king.

i remembered how he'd counted all the things he still had on his fingers and I'd tried: I shut up my brain for a good minute or so just so I could count the things I hold dear

"my friends, my cats, my sister"

(no matter what my delusional brain said about them not missing me i had to push through, i had two cats to feed and a sister to hug after all.)

only three things I'd counted but that was enough for me to keep living for another month and counting

that's when I realised that i had wanted to be a part of this adventure so badly that my entire life was basically cradled amidst the thought of the series ending, i cried so much that night that I had a raging migraine the next day but I still remember the smile I had on the entire night because I'd finally found something that really kept me going and I knew without a doubt would be there for me at all times

yes, I have friends and I promise you that they are some of the best people I've ever met! but with a brain overworking itself at all times, even the best people cannot drag me out of my own self-loathing and I hate it. i hate that I cannot trust myself nor my friends at all to stay and I hate that I convince myself each and everyday that they'd be better off without me. i want to rely on them so badly because I know they'd be there for me but god it's scary to think they could potentially hate me when they find out how shit my health has gotten

(this is why WCI is so important to me: I see so much of myself in Sanji that he was my least favourite character for ages and even now he's still low on my tierlist solely because he feels too alike to me.)

through everything though, one piece is the only thing which I cannot overthink myself into it not needing me as i may not be necessary as a viewer through the billions of people who also enjoy one piece but it doesn't matter what i am to one piece because

it's important to me

and that's really all that matters in the end.

one piece saved my life multiple times and it's cheesy and cliché but I really do not think I'd be here if I wasn't introduced to one piece.

that's why I'm so upset by the mere thought of one piece ending.

when it does end I will not have an excuse drilled into my brain to keep living anymore and that scares me so bad, my excuse to live won't be able to be "you haven't finished one piece yet so live." anymore

that's so so scary to even consider.

I still have bad days nowadays ofc but I now have a stable backing to fall into when I know it's getting bad but when one piece ceases to continue I'll have to face my bad days like before I got into one piece and thats not something I think I can handle, i can't handle change this big.

but hey

it's still a long while for one piece to end so

I'll wait it out til then.

as much as i am a pessimist I want to be able to die without regrets (haha one piece reference) and not finishing one piece will be such a big regret it's insane

so, what I'm trying to say is, wait it out with me guys :)) we must see through to Luffy becoming the pirate king!

and maybe by then we'll have more stable backings to fall into for support and more fingers to put down when counting what we have

and maybe by then we'll all be a bit older and a bit more wise too

only the future will tell.

(okay but side notes: if anyone actually bothered to read all of this, you're an absolute legend and I hope you find your own one piece one day as cringe as that is AHAHAHAHA, kudos to you reader! have a great day :>> )

#one piece #im sobbing #what will i do #idek bruh #bruh #take an l #took an l #i can't handle change #change is bad #this is horrible #one piece ending #terrible thoughts #brain bad #bad brain #whip and nae nae #FIGHT ON #!!! :D #I BELIEVE IN YOU #WHOOP WHOOP #WE ARE #WE ARE! #jesus this took forever #this is long #asf #this is so emo #angst asf #irl angst #LMFAO BYE #actually crying #tw depressing thoughts

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 196

Achilles Castle part 98

Lemonade and lies Part 41

Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek undercover part 5

Castle: pov i’m in front of the closet with our medical supplies, I grab the defibrillator and put it in the box next to some monitors and other medical supplies. It's better to have too much rather than not enough. Kate is putting her stuff in a travel bag and some other stuff in a box like extra bedding, blanket and more bathroom supplies. Nick arrives saying the ice is in the trunk like you asked Kate says it's for the food. I kiss her goodbye and tell her to keep me or Lanie updated.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov while Kate is on the phone with Captain Ellison who called her I dump the ice in the cooler to keep the food cold. I hear her say yeah it won't get in the way of my job and when can you have it ready. I mouth to her what can he have ready, Kate mouths house. As soon as Kate is off the phone, I ask her what he wants, she says he talked to 1pp and they want to send us undercover. I had to explain to him about my health which he couldn't care less about, Captain Ellison said I better not ruin his investigation. He is trying to get us a house or ground floor apartment in the area the drug dealers are in. Want to stop for lunch before our meeting. I know a great place to eat.

Esposito: pov I head down into the morgue and let her know Kate is going undercover. She just texted me letting me know Captain Ellison asked 1pp to sign off on it. So Lanie, what do you have for me?

Lanie: pov he died from multiple stab wounds, I had the lab test both spots of blood at the crime scene and the other drops of blood are not our victims. I found a match in the police database.

Esposito: pov wait are you saying it's a cop's blood. Kate did say the undercover officer from the drug unit was injured some time yesterday. Lanie says It's definitely his, I guess I have to find him and question him he might be a witness.

Kate: pov while we are in the car we come up with a great backstory for us, especially my scars/medical issues. Nick turn right or you're going to miss our exit. The food place should be on your left after the light. Nick finds a parking space near the front, in the building I ordered a brown rice bowl and strawberry smoothie, I explain to the person behind the counter that I have health issues.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov I order the everything bowl, it looks amazing Kate pays for our food. She suggests a park near our meeting so that way we can both eat. Turns out Castle found it looking up stuff where the drug dealers are in case we had to go undercover. Man Castle thinks of everything. After parking the car I get out and check on the cooler to make sure the ice didn't melt too badly. The ice still looks great, barely melted. We still have a good amount of driving. The other meeting yesterday was closer by.

Kate: pov I point to a picnic table in the shade, conversation is easy between the both of us. Captain Ellison has given us burner phones before we left his office just in case we needed them, computers are waiting for us at the apartment. I'm placing a grocery order which we will pick up after our meeting since the apartment should be ready by then. Castle looked up local urgent cares and emergency rooms in case of an emergency. Crap I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov you go to a therapist. Kate reminds me that she has PTSD and the police department wants to make sure she is fit for duty.

Kate: pov I need to talk to him about a few things, I will call him and see if it can be a virtual appointment. My step daughter Alexis and her boyfriend Dave are having a charity day at school. Alexis picked a heart charity and Dave picked one to end gun violence they both wanted to add a video to their project so the day before yesterday I had to help them look through photos and videos of when I was recovering which wasn't pleasant.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov that must have been hard. Reliving that terrible time in your life. Kate mentions while she was dying in the cemetery Castle told her he loved her. I thought you were with Josh at the time.

Kate: pov i was with Josh, told Castle I didn't remember getting shot because I thought it was a deathbed confession. I broke up with Josh and stayed at my dad's cabin for a while. I had constant echocardiograms while I recovered. When I returned to the city for my 3 month check up I had a special test done and that confirmed that I did in fact have a heart condition. It's normal for people with my type of injury to have issues while recovering.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov random question does it still hurt. Kate asks if I mean her chest and side. Yes because I knew a guy in the military who got shot in the arm and said he could still feel it years later.

Kate: pov what he had is most likely ptp, post traumatic pain. I have something similar. I usually have Lanie or Castle go with me to Dr's appointment, emergency room visits or urgent care trips. With my PTSD being alone in those settings isn't great. A little heads up thunder and fireworks trigger me for some reason, might be the Loud noise or the flashes of light I have no idea. Nick I have a question for you besides CPR which you should know from your NYPD handbook and days at the academy. Do you know how to use a defibrillator, not that we are going to need it. I just want to make sure in an emergency that you can use it. I tell Nick i will show him how to use it. To be continued………

#castle #fanfiction #tvshow #nathanfillion #richardcastle #stanakatic #katebeckett #jonhuertas #javieresposito #kevinryan #seamusdever #martharodgers

[ain]

i've decided that i am once again allowed to be angry and that im allowed to believe that i think and feel beautifully

#personal #im allowed to think good things about myself #im allowed to glance at myself and believe myself beautiful sometimes #im allowed to be angry at people what theyve done / are doing #im happy that in autistic im happy that i have a cat and i have friends who love me and i love back #im happy that i have pink hair and someday soon i will play the violin for someone and fall in love w them #i didnt deserve to wake up **** ***** not knowing where i was i didnt deserve any of the shit men did to me i dont deserve most of all to b #told that i need to be more forgiving. no. i won't be forgiving. i havent processed it and i likely wont for a while because im 18 #and tired and vulnerable and my brain wont let me believe it was real but fuck i know i didnt deserve any of it ! #i deserve to be loved i deserve to feel loved #fuck men . anyway if someone chases you home . you tell the fucking police about it bc it can bite back later . top tips . xoxo ♡ #tionne is . one of the most beautiful people ive met in my fucking life and for a second i was genuinely about to question whether or not i #deserve to talk to her . No . thats not right . #and im allowed to be angry at people who made me think my existence is a chore . im allowed to be angry at them and im allowed to be angry #at men . it was a man . i know it was a man . i know certainly that it was a man . fuck #i might be dropping my therapist soon but he said some things right and i didnt want to believe him because i thought i didnt deserve it bu #no he's right . he's right about my mind . #im so so full of anger but it's not unfounded i am so full of rage and it's going to save me i am so full of poetry and love and music and #played tchaikovsky today and my teacher said i was gifted and i almost cried because we wanted to go to juilliard but fuck . men . #i love my friends i love my cat and i dont love myself but i dont hate myself at all #i care for myself #and i deserve that #im allowed that. #good morning. i loved you. goodnight. #my hands #are made #to hold #and be held.

[itsapeterthing]

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

#1

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together. 

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

#2

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

#3

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

#4

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms. 

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was   mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

[uwingdispatch]

Crashing

Crashing

Notes: Cassian Andor/Reader, everyone lives au, post-rebellion, hurt/comfort, disabled reader, fluff and angst

TW: PTSD, panic attacks, chronic illness, disability, implied sexual intimacy

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

It’s early in the evening when the demolition starts. It had been planned by the city—an older, unsafe building had to come down to put in new affordable housing. Somehow, you’d both forgotten about it until you heard explosives. You’re fine, if startled. But Cassian, while often able to cope with even the most difficult triggers, drops the plate he’s rinsing in the kitchen. You’re quick to steady him, but his face is already going pale.

“Breathe,” you say. “Try and breathe for me.”

Losing control of your body in a panic attack is frightening. Heightened heart rate, unsteady breathing, dizziness, nausea. A reaction like he’s having often leads to him passing out or vomiting—still, Cassian’s first response to this is that he hates you seeing him this way, that he doesn’t want to upset you.

“Didn’t you have some things you needed to do at the library tonight?” he asks as you help him to the couch. “Kay is home. You should go. I’ll be fine in a little bit”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say. “Not until you feel okay.”

Placing an extra pillow behind him, you remind Cassian about the medicine in his drawer and he shakes his head. “You know I hate taking those. This will pass.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been through a rough bout of panic with him. Like so many Rebel veterans, he was diagnosed with PTSD after the war. Cassian goes to therapy, he meditates, he has regular doctor visits. He does almost everything he’s supposed to do. But no matter how bad it is, he hates taking medication—especially the tranquilizers he’d been prescribed that sit in his nightstand, nearly untouched.

*

You’d been living together for maybe six months when you found yourself in an art supply store with Cassian, his therapist having finally persuaded him to try “art therapy.” It was a familiar space for you, and the smells of fancy papers and paint, of unfinished wood and colorful yarns—it was comforting. You were hoping that this comfort would be Cassian’s as well, soon.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking,” Cassian said staring down a wall of brushes. “I can’t paint. I’ve never painted in my life.”

“Maybe that’s part of the point,” you said. “Maybe she wants you to try this completely new thing, with no expectations.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “But I wish she’d given me a shopping list.”

“Didn’t she tell you to sign up for a specific class?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not going to?”

“No.”

You sighed. There was nothing you could say that would convince him to try the class, and you suspected his therapist knew this about him, too. Knew this is where he’d end up instead. Still—perhaps because of the nature of your visit—Cassian wasn’t keen on asking a salesperson for help. And you weren’t really a painter yourself. However, you knew you’d always liked the feel of acrylic paint under a brush.

“Right,” you said. “Okay. Well, let me show you what I would buy.”

You picked out a package of brushes that weren’t too fancy, but that would work for what you had in mind. And you showed him a set of acrylic paints that were a decent quality, but wouldn’t turn out to be a waste of credits if he ended up hating all of this. And you took him to the paper aisle and pointed out what that you thought would be best for acrylics. And last, you insisted he buy an unfinished wooden box.

“What’s the box for?” Cassian asked. “Storage?”

“Maybe someday. Depends on what you do with it. But I really like how it feels to paint unfinished wood. You might, too.”

Cassian shrugged and added one to the shopping basket. When he realized you were holding the basket, he eased it out of your hands, not wanting you to have to carry anything even a little bit heavy, given your joint issues. He did this all the time, despite the durasteel rods in both of his legs and his shoulder. He liked to joke that being somewhat bionic made him perfect to carry things for you, but you knew he had days, especially in rainy weather, when he could feel those rods in him, and that it wasn’t pleasant.

“My heart, you are too good to me,” he said, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “How about lunch in the park?”

You smiled, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

*

Your intimate knowledge of panic attacks makes watching your partner suffer through them unmedicated all the more horrifying. You know exactly what his body is doing, because it happens to you, too. And when it happens to you, he is the first one to bring you your meds, to sit with you for hours, to stay up all night if he has to. And if you’d tried to send him on an errand while you were like this? It’s unthinkable.

Your tooka cat has been attentive as always—now he curls up in Cassian’s lap and starts to purr. Cassian holds the tooka almost like a prayer, something concrete to ground him in this moment.

You and the tooka both stay with him for hours, but a little after the time you would normally eat dinner, Kay convinces you to get out of the house.

Transferring a short shopping list to your datapad, he says, “What is it you organics say? You need to go out and acquire some oxygen.”

Get some air. He’s right, of course—you can feel your own anxiety coming to the surface. But that doesn’t mean you’re happy about leaving. As you walk the short kilometer from your little house into town, you call Chirrut, wishing he were local and not several star systems away.

“I don’t know what to do for him,” you say. “He won’t take the meds, it’s like he thinks it’s important to power through this on his own.”

Chirrut sighs audibly over the com. “He’s always been stubborn,” he says. “You’re doing what you can. Keep doing that. Have him call me if he wants.”

When you end the call, you add a few items to the list Kay sent you out with: electrolyte replacement tablets, soup from that café Cassian is obsessed with, migraine medicine. You tell yourself at the pharmacy checkout that you’ll stop by the library on your way home to pick up those datacards you need, but you don’t. It’s two blocks out of the way and you want to get home. To him.

*

With your supplies secured along with takeout from a favorite food cart in the compartment on the back of Cassian’s speeder bike, you wrapped your arms around him and he took off. You’d been surprised when he’d brought the bike home—there was already had a landspeeder in the garage. But he’d told you that day to get on the back and hold on tight. So you did. And as you rode together through your city, the feeling was almost euphoric.

That feeling persisted, even today, many months later. It was a bright, cloudless afternoon and, as you drove from downtown to one of the city’s public parks, you could smell all the green that had finally come back. So much work had been done to restore this city after the war, and it was amazing to see the beauty returning to Ralltiir—a beauty that you knew so many beings would get to enjoy.

At the park, Cassian pulled out a woven blanket and laid it in the grass, invited you to sit with him. You heard songbirds in the trees, a family with three laughing children flying kites just a few meters away. Was this bliss? If just for a few moments, you hoped so. Pain was universal, but surely this man had suffered his fair share. You wanted a little bit of bliss for him to hold on to, something to return to on his darker days.

*

When you return to your little house, Kay gives you an update: “The captain lost consciousness for 2.6 seconds. He has since had six ounces of water and half a meiloorun.”

“I’m right here, Kay,” Cassian says. “I can speak for myself.”

You sit on the sofa with him, setting the takeout bag with his favorite soup on the little living room table, and he rests his head in your lap. As you brush his hair away from his face, you feel a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Like I’ve been run over by an AT-ST. But I’ll be okay.”

He’s well enough to crack a joke, but you can feel him starting to hyperventilate. “Can you take some deep breaths for me?” you ask.

You take a deep breath for yourself before asking Kay to bring you a washcloth and a bowl of ice water.

“Like last time?” Kay asks.

“Exactly like last time.”

“Okay.” you say. “I’m here. I know my trauma isn’t from combat, it’s not the same as what you’re dealing with, but I’m here. There are friends you can call if you need. Jyn would come over in a heartbeat. You’re not alone in this.”

“Thank you, my heart,” he says. “You are all I need tonight.”

As much as it breaks your heart to see your partner like this, you’re thankful that he will at least try some of the interventions you suggest. Like dipping his face in ice water to try and short circuit his racing mind.

And the ice water works long enough to eat dinner. But this is one of the worst episodes you’ve ever seen him though. Cassian’s anxiety stays heightened even after you both go to bed, and as the sun starts to rise, he still hasn’t slept. Neither have you. So he kisses your forehead, thanking you for staying up with him, and he takes his pillow out to the couch.

*

You stayed in the park for hours, sometimes in complete silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. As the sun set, the park emptied until it was only the two of you—almost as if the rest of the world wanted to give you a moment of peace. You were laying in Cassian’s lap as he stroked your hair when a perfect smile came across his face.

“Marry me,” he said.

It was sudden, seemingly out of the blue. But Cassian was very rarely impulsive.

Still, you asked “Are you sure?”

He laughed. “Come here, my heart.”

He helped you sit up, and you sat facing him as he took both of your hands.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said. “I’m not sure of much, but I am sure about this. Marry me.”

You felt the wet of tears on your cheek and realized you were weeping. You leaned into Cassian and kissed him, breathlessly, without any care for anyone who might walk into the park and see you there.

“Is this a yes?” he asked, your foreheads touching, your hands in his hair.

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.”

He kissed you then, with a joyful hunger, and you felt a heaviness leave your body. Something you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding on to. It was gone, and you felt full of light.

*

“Come back to bed.”

You’re standing in the living room in your sleep clothes, barely holding it together for your partner who is tucking himself in under a throw blanket on the couch. The sky is violet, and you want nothing more than to hold him until he feels safe again.

“It’s dawn, I’m not doing this to you.”

“Cassian,” you say. “If sleep was my priority right now I’d have taken a tranquilizer. I’d be sleeping.”

“Please just go sleep, my heart. You’ve done so much already.”

You’re holding his pills in your hand. The very same pills in a different dosage are in your nightstand drawer with you name on them. “Tell me about the durasteel rods in your body.”

“What?”

“Tell me why you let them repair your shoulder and your legs with durasteel.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Humor me.”

Cassian rubs his eyes and sighs. “Because my bones were shattered. I didn’t get to the bacta tank in time. Without the durasteel, I might have lost limbs.”

He realizes where you’re going with this, lets out a slow breath. “It feels like cheating,” He says. “Everyone who died, the pain I’m responsible for. It feels like cheating to be able to just take a pill.”

“And the durasteel?”

Cassian takes the bottle from you, cradles it in one hand, rubs his thumb over the label.

“It sounded like Jedha today,” he says, finally. “The whole city coming down around us. We barely made it out of there with our lives. Everyone else…there was no way to even try to help. They were just gone.”

“I’m so sorry you’re experiencing that again,” you say.

“Just…give me a minute. I’ll come back to bed. But I need a minute.”

You nod and return to the bedroom. The house is quiet except for the sound of the tooka purring in the warm spot Cassian left in the bed. As you crawl back under the covers, you hear the kitchen faucet, then the rattle of a pill bottle.

When he appears in the doorway, you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the tension in your body releasing.

“You were right,” he says, sinking into the bed next to you. “I should have taken the medicine sooner. I…wish I handled this better.”

“You handled it the best you could.”

He takes your face in his hands and touches his nose to yours. “I am a very lucky man.”

He kisses you softly, a brush of his lips across yours. And soon his breathing steadies, and he sleeps. So you sleep, too.

When you wake, it’s past noon. You find a note on the kitchen counter. He’s gone into the office just to check in and will be home at the normal time. You spend some of the afternoon napping, and as the sun gets lower in the sky you start to bake. You’re getting a second loaf of bread into the oven when you hear the familiar set of clicks and beeps as Cassian unlocks the door.

You turn to find him looking as exhausted as you are. But he has a smile on his face, and a big bouquet of flowers.

“My heart,” he says. “It smells delicious in here. Tell me you actually got some rest today.”

“I rested, Cassian,” you say. “Are those for me?”

“I suppose I could give them to the tooka, but he probably wouldn’t enjoy them like you would.”

You get a pitcher out of the cupboard and fill it with water for the flowers.

Cassian wraps his arms around you. “Thank you. For yesterday. For last night.”

When he kisses you, yesterday begins to fade away.

Cassian whispers, “I don’t know how I get wake up next to you every day.”

“I’m just glad we found each other,” you say. “And that you’re feeling more like yourself today.

He kisses you deeper then, his hands cradling the back of your neck, pressing your body in the most pleasant way up against the kitchen counter. You think you might be headed for the bedroom when Kay comes loudly through the front door.

The droid catches sight of you and says, “I’ll leave.”

“That’s all right, Kay,” Cassian says, not taking his eyes off of you. “We will have time for this later. We have so much time.”

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! I know this was kind of a tough one, but I hope it made you feel seen and loved. I did not expect this one to be as difficult to navigate as it was, but I think it ended up worth the time.

Tagging: @princessxkenobi @zinzinina @maul-ologue @operation-spot @waterpancakeao3 @strwrs @aerynwrites

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor fanfiction #rogue one #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one fanfic #rogue one au #alternate universe #everyone lives au #PTSD #disabled reader #reader is disabled #chronic illness #hurt/comfort #domestic fluff #fluff and angst #cassian andor tooka cat enthusiast #maybe soup will help #k-2so #k2so #star wars #star wars fanfiction #uwingwriting

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 1

AN: My Marvel obsession has been lying dormant since Endgame finished but Wandavision and Falcon and Winter Soldier have brought it back to life.... This is going to be a series based off the show. Kind of like my ‘Oh Dear’ fic, it’s the series with an added characters and story lines. 

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: You reunite with Sam and Bucky (Based on S1 EP2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,883

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 2, strong language, violence. 

You and Bucky had always been close. 

You were close with Steve before Bucky joined the avengers and you fought on Steve’s side during the small civil war between the avengers. 

Steve was your best friend and Sam always knew how to make you smile but there was something about Bucky that was different to the rest of the avengers. 

You had spent some time in Wakanda with Bucky at Steve’s request and you two had always fought side by side and it crushed Steve when you both taken during the blip and he wasn't. 

When you returned, you were thrust back into battle almost immediately. The final fight against Thanos which resulted in you losing Tony and then Steve. 

Nothing seemed to matter except the fact you had been gone for 5 whole years. You had missed 5 whole years with your friends and family. They had changed whilst you were gone and you came back the same as you left.

When Steve returned the infinity stones, he hadn’t given you warning that he wasn’t coming back the same age he was going in but he had warned Bucky. They had spoken about it before apparently and after everything, you felt kind of betrayed. 

You knew you’d never understand Steve’s choice but it was his choice. You were just upset Bucky didn’t warn you. 

You returned to your home town after that day. 

You returned to find some people had changed and some hadn’t but you knew you wanted to be around and spend time with them. 

After all the years fighting for the avengers and only calling every once in a blue moon. It seemed to finally dawn on you that you should spend time with them whilst you still could. 

However, that only lasted around 6 months before you found yourself answering a phone call from Sam. 

You were at a birthday party for one of your old school friend’s daughters when you felt your phone go off. 

You put down one of the little girls who had be asking you a hundred questions about being apart of the avengers and excused yourself from the party. 

“Tell me why I got an awful feeling when I saw your caller ID come up on my phone.” You answered, folding your free hand under your arm as you leant against the wall. 

“It’s cause your subconscious is reminding you about that one time you said no when I asked you out on a date and you regret that now.”  Sam’s voice instantly made you crack a smile. 

“Or maybe it’s because every time I get a call from you it’s to do with the world ending or something worse.” You shot back. 

“It’s good to hear your voice too.” Sam chuckled at your comment before he had responded. 

“So what’s going on? I haven’t heard much from you in months.” You asked. 

“That’s around the time you up and left us for the old way of living.” Sam reminded you that you were the one that decided to go cold agent and return home. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with a little quiet.” You told him as you looked back through the window to the children that were the opposite of quiet. 

“No there isn't.” Sam agreed, “However, I got a situation here at the moment that I could really use your help with.”

“I guess it’s a bit bigger than the usual military op or you wouldn’t be calling?” You frowned. You were in the loop enough to know Sam had been apart of the airforce these past 6 months and had been taking part in frequent missions but nothing that concerned you. 

“I’m sending you over the details now. I’d appreciate it if you could come.” Sam sent you through a file and you pulled your phone away from your ear to open it. 

“You don’t need to convince me, Sam. I’ll be there since I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was serious.” You answered honestly. 

“Guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone.

“Depends how quick I can get a bag together and your jet can get me to you.” You told him as you picked up your jacket from the coat rack. 

“Well it’s no Red Wing but it’s pretty fast.” Sam stated. “Oh and (Y/n)... You haven’t seen the news in the past hour or so, have you?”

“No? Why?” You frowned at the hesitation in Sam’s voice. 

“Just... take a look.” Sam told you before you ended the call. 

You opened up the news on your phone and what you saw made your mouth go dry and your stomach drop. 

‘JOHN WALKER; NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA’

You felt an anger rise up in you as you watched the wannabe waltz onto screen with Steve’s shield in his paws. 

When Sam gave up the shield, you didn’t know how to feel at first but now... now you weren’t surprised Sam didn’t elaborate on what he wanted you to see.

You said your apologies and your goodbyes pretty swiftly and you had already stashed an emergency bag ready to go under your bed so you were soon on your way.

It didn’t take terribly long to get to the air base where Sam was waiting for you. 

“Who the hell is this guy and why is he calling himself the new Captain America?” 

“Nice to see you too.” Sam wasn’t surprised at the attitude once you stepped off the plane.

“Sam, first you call me up to help deal with this wannabe terrorist group and now I just find out that Steve’s shield, which you gave up, is being held by some wannabe superhero.” You dumped your bag on the floor as you closed the gap between you and Sam.

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either and I knew nothin about it but we have bigger fish to fry right now so can we cut the dramatic and get to actually saying hello?” Sam stared down at you with his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and gave in.

You wrapped your arms around the man and hugged him warmly.

“I’m sorry. I just––”

“–I know.” Sam didn’t need your apology. He understood how you were feeling. You both loved Steve so much. 

“Miss (Y/N)(Y/L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” A voice brought your attention away from Sam to a man approaching you both. 

“(Y/n), Torres. Torres, (Y/n).” Sam introduced you to the uniformed man and you shook his hand politely. 

“Nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure if you had gotten used to the way most civilians looked at you after you became apart of the avengers. When you joined you didn’t realise becoming famous would be apart of the gig.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss (Y/L/N) has to come with me to get logged into the clearance system and sort out a couple things.” Torres pointed over his shoulder as he explained. 

“And by that he means sign an autograph for his kid sister.” Sam teased the man. 

“What?” Torres’ cheeks tinged pink. “No!”

“It’s alright. Lead the way.” You picked up your bag and sent a quick smile to Sam before turning back to Torres. “Oh and you can call me (Y/n) by the way.” 

It didn’t take too long for Torres to fill you in on Sam’s plan for the mission as he logged in a few details so you could have clearance around the airbase. 

You did end up signing an autograph after a little tiptoeing around the question and then by the time you walked back out into the open you spotted someone you hadn’t expected to see. 

It was Bucky. 

“Looking good for a senior citizen.” You spoke up as you approached Sam and Bucky. 

Bucky had his back to you but the sound of your voice soon paused his conversation with Sam and he spun around. 

“Hey Buck.” You smiled but you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. “Long time no see.” 

“(Y/n).” Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. 

You chuckled at his tight embrace but hugged him back just as tight all the same. 

“You, uh, you look good.” Bucky cleared his throat as he pulled away from you. 

“If you’ll excuse us, Casanova, we got places to be.” Sam tried to pull you away from Bucky but Bucky only followed. 

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky announced. 

“No, you’re not!” Sam argued. 

You hadn’t missed the men’s bickering...

In spite of Sam’s protest, Bucky ended up on the flight anyway. 

“So how’s it been away from the Avengers?” Bucky asked you as you both prepared for the mission.

Sam was up with Torres in the cockpit so you and Bucky were alone for the first time since you saw each other.

“It’s been okay. Spending time at home. Doing non-hero regular folk stuff.” You chuckled weakly as you pulled off your sweater. Bucky’s eyes fell to your chest as you had only wore a vest underneath. You felt your cheeks burn as you pretended not to notice.

“Uh, same.” Bucky cleared his throat before he spoke.. “Been strange without you around.”

“Buck, you know I needed time away from everything. From Sam, from you... After Steve, I...” You let your words drop away. 

There was a short silence before Bucky decided to change the subject.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist. Court mandated. She’s got me doing this whole redemption thing. Contacting people in my past. Making things right.” 

“And how’s that going for you?” You couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the idea of Bucky forcing himself to face his past at the request of a therapist. 

“Well I have three rules I’m meant to stick to and let’s say I’m not exactly following them closely.” Bucky admitted as he folded his hoodie.

“Does your therapist know that?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man with a light amused expression.

“What do you think.” Bucky smirked back at you.

“Be careful. I might tell on you.” You sighed playfully. 

“You’re actually on the list.” Bucky suddenly confessed. “I wanted to make things right after...” Bucky paused for a moment. “...After Steve. I should have warned you. Should have told you the truth.” 

“Bucky.” You stopped him. “It’s okay. Steve made a choice and he chose to talk to you about it. You’re his best friend and the only other person on the team who could’ve really understood why he did what he did. I’m not holding it against you.” 

“I’m still sorry.” Bucky looked you in the eyes as he spoke, “You were with him for so long when I wasn’t around. You should’ve got a real warning.” 

“Thanks Buck.” You pressed your lips into a brief sad smile before looking down at your boots. 

“I’ve really missed you, (Y/n).” Bucky uttered. 

“I really missed you too.” You stopped tying your lace to look up at the man. 

His short hair had really revealed his face and you couldn’t help but notice every part of it. The lines by his eyes when he smiled, the curve of his lips, the shadow that was just coming on.

You straightened up and stepped towards the man. 

“I like the new haircut by the way.” You reached up and let your fingers brush the top of his forehead. “Makes you look almost like a civilian.” 

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his body tense under your touch. 

“You look tired though.” You let your hand drop down to his cheek. “Not been sleeping well?”

Bucky forced himself to move away from your touch.

“Bad dreams.” Bucky murmured. 

“I figured therapy might have been helping you with those.” You frowned, “I remember sharing wake up duty with Steve like it was yesterday.”

“Every time it was your turn you’d make hot coco.” Bucky reminded you. It brought back images of you and Bucky sat in a small kitchen drinking hot chocolate that you had made despite Bucky’s insisting that he didn’t want any. 

“Seems like a lifetime ago.” You smiled but the memories only made you feel dismal. It seemed those were simpler times. Steve was still around, at least. 

Bucky handed you your jacket in the silence and you took it gratefully.

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” Sam said rather loudly as he climbed down the ladder. 

“No, we were just getting ready which is what you should be doing.” You picked up Sam’s bag and tossed it to him which he caught effortlessly. “I’m going to check a few things with Torres. Try not to kill each other whilst I’m gone.” 

Bucky watched you climb the ladder up to the cockpit and Sam watched Bucky. 

“I’ll never understand why you won’t just shoot your shot with the girl.” Sam shook his head as he opened his duffle. 

“Shoot my what?” Bucky glared over at the man with confusion clear in his eyes. 

“Your shot, man. (Y/n) has clearly been in love with you since Steve dragged your ass onto the team. What she sees in you compared to this, I’ll never understand but she clearly sees something.” Sam had gestured to himself when he spoke but Bucky just rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe instead of talking about (Y/n), you should actually tell me what the plan is?” Bucky suggested as he zipped up his jacket securely. 

“How about you stop avoiding your feelings?” Sam retorted which made Bucky shut up and sit down. 

“I’m not avoiding my feelings.” Bucky grumbled as he glared at the man. 

“Yeah right.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he started to change. 

You didn’t return to the boys until you were approaching the drop off. 

“(Y/n), you’ll be out first.” Torres explained as you put in your ear piece, trying your hardest to ignore Bucky and Sam starring daggers at each other behind you. 

“Great. See you on the ground, fellas.” You jumped from the aircraft just as you heard Bucky ask what the plan was in your earpiece. 

You had to jump earlier then the men since you were approaching the building from another angle but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear them bicker still on the aircraft. 

When you reached the warehouse, you remained hidden in the trees. You watched several people start to load two trucks with large boxes. 

“You’re doing the staring thing again. They’re in there.” You heard Sam’s voice in your earpiece. He must have been talking to Bucky inside the warehouse. 

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked. 

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons, though.” Sam responded before you could. 

“Well, I think you could be right.” Bucky agreed with a passive aggressive tone. “But there’s only one way to find out. I see a clear path. I say we take it.”

“We’re not assassins.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky must've walked away from what you could hear. 

“Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you! Come back.” You could practically see Sam’s smile in your head.

“If you guys are done, I have a visual on the targets. They’re loading up two red trucks.”

“We’re moving up now.” Bucky replied to you. 

“Look at you. All stealthy.” Sam was teasing him. “A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Bucky corrected him and Sam’s reaction almost made you laugh out loud. 

You tried to move closer to the trucks to see exactly what was going inside but it was risky with the group constantly checking around them. 

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore, way ahead of you. It’s not great, but very doable.” Bucky’s voice came up again. “Hello. How are you?” Bucky sounded irritated. Sam must've snuck up on him. 

“Good. What did I miss? Nothing.” Sam whispered back. 

“All right, let’s go.” Bucky commanded but Sam stopped him. 

“No, wait.”

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them.” Bucky held up his arm as he fought against Sam’s halt.

“And I can fly. Who gives a shit?” Sam muttered. “Wait. I want to see where they’re going.”

“Guys I may not be in the same location as you but I can hear everything you’re saying so quick the arguing” You whispered lowly as you kept your eyes trained on the trucks. 

You tried to zone out the boys bickering as you crept forward. A crashing noise from inside the warehouse made you jump back and hide as the flash smasher members all stopped and looked. 

“Be careful.” You hissed at the both of them.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Bucky tried to defend himself but frankly you didn't care. The trucks were staring to close up and their engines switched on. 

You watched the people pile into the trucks and you dived over, taking hold of the backdoors and clinging on. 

“They have a hostage.” Sam told you as the trucks drove off with you attached. 

“Then get moving.” You commanded. You pulled open the door you were hanging to and opened it. 

“No sight of a hostage in here.” You informed Sam as you looked around. “Just boxes of vaccines.” 

“I found her.” Bucky must've gotten inside the other truck. “Hi. You okay?” Bucky’s voice was then followed by a crashing sound. 

However, you had your own problems... 

You heard a loud bang behind you and you turned to see two men at the end of the truck. They both had masks on. 

“Cute masks.” You taunted them before they charged at you. 

You threw three knives at them, two managed to hit one of the men in the thigh and chest but the second man had knocked the third one away. 

You went to attack the uninjured one first as he drew closer, you punched him but he was strong. He didn’t even flinch. 

You felt a small panic in your chest as you started to fight. He was taking moves that would usually floor someone like he was being attacked by a pillow. 

You managed to get him to the ground by wrapping your thighs around his neck and flipping him over you before you threw another knife at the injured soldier. He seemed to retreat, climbing out of the truck and onto the roof. 

“Could use some back up, Sam!” You called out as you followed. 

You climbed up onto the roof and the first soldier chased after you. The injured one grabbed hold of Bucky along with a third guy and so you were left with the big one. 

You heard Redwing shooting at the roof before you saw it but a redheaded female smashed it in half like it was but a plastic toy. 

With that, Sam finally swooped in and started throwing punches. 

He was thrown to the other roof as you continued to fight your own battle. You were getting tired and his punches seemed to only be getting stronger and more painful each time.

You pulled out another knife but he grabbed your wrist and squeezed. You couldn’t help but cry out at the pressure, you dropped it before he could break your wrist. 

Then suddenly a helicopter appeared from what seemed like nowhere. Cap’s shield bounced off one of Sam’s attackers as two new bodies joined the fight. 

The distraction allowed you to kick your attacker off the truck and start to help Bucky. 

“Sam, John Walker; Captain America.” 

“Lemar Hoskins.”

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” Walker and his sidekick introduced themselves. 

 A surge of rage from the introduction of ‘Captain America’ helped you regain some adrenaline. You turned and started to fight once again. 

You let yourself become distracted as Bucky fell from the side of the truck which allowed one of the guys to send you off the truck too.

Sam was quick to fall back with his suit and grab you before you hit the concrete road. However, the impact of him grabbing you did leave you winded. 

“Bucky.” You wheezed as the man settled you on the side of the road. 

Sam flew up and chased after the trucks. 

You took a moment, wincing at your aching body before you rose to your feet and took off in their direction. 

You couldn’t catch up to the trucks but it didn’t take long to find Bucky and Sam once you spotted they were both coming out of a field. 

“If someone told me I’d be fighting a whole bunch of super soldiers today I would’ve wore my nice pants.” You stated as you approached the two men.

“We knew they were strong but not like this.” Sam defended himself from your anger. 

“One of those guys took a knife to the chest and could still walk away.” You threw your arms up as you informed him. This was so much worse than the documents had described. 

“It’s going to take a lot more than just a knife to stop these guys.” Bucky’s eyes seemed to carry a storm as he thought. 

“How can this be possible? I thought the super soldier serum was gone. What happened in Siberia was supposed to have put an end to it all.” You remembered the failed super soldiers as clear as day. 

“We know about as much as you, (Y/n). Unless you tried to, you know, your weird seeing thing?” Sam asked.

“No. It takes it out of me and I can’t do it whilst I’m trying to fight for my life so.” You shook your head as you walked beside the men. Whilst you weren’t as powerful as some of the Avengers, you were a great assassin like Natasha Romanoff. Your talent was your knife throwing but under all the training and all the knowledge, there was a gift. A gift you’d had since birth.

If you touched someone, you could see their entire past, everything they had experienced up until that moment. It really drained you of your energy and over the years you trained yourself so that you could switch it on and off so it didn’t happen every time you touched someone but when you did use it, it usually required a lie down afterwards. 

“Sorry about Redwing.” Bucky spoke up after a moment of silence. 

“No, you’re not.” Sam rolled his eyes at the fake apology before asking: “What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing.” Bucky grumbled. 

“You know what? I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning, shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.” Sam couldn’t help but make fun of Bucky which only made you walk ahead of the men. You weren’t in the mood for this.

“We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.” You said to stop their silliness. 

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight Super Soldiers runnin’ loose?” Sam agreed with you just as a transport vehicle began to pull up along side him. 

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” John Walker’s voice penetrated the space like a foul smelling fart. 

He opened the truck’s door to allow you all to hop in but you all ignored him. 

“Alright. Let’s keep going.” He told the driver before directing his attention back to you. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…”

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?” Sam spoke up just to prove to Bucky that others knew of the ‘Big Three.’

“Pretty sure.” Walker nodded.

“There’s no such thing as wizards.” Bucky exclaimed which made you cock an eyebrow at the man. You clearly missed a conversation here. 

“Then it’s aliens, or androids.” Walker shrugged as if it were obvious.

“––Or Super Soldiers.” Sam added. 

“Shit. Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s colleague responded with the reaction you just about expected. 

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed. 

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together.” Walker’s eyebrows rose as he spoke. 

“That’s not happening.” Bucky declared.

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just––”

“––Just ’cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Bucky cut Walker short and you were grateful for it. The man was making your head ache. 

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?” Walker sighed. 

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Bucky shot back but he wasn't met with the answer he wanted. 

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, any… Look, it’s 20 miles to the airport. You guys need a ride.” Walker got his driver to stop. “Get in.” 

You looked back at Sam and Bucky. You hadn’t said anything yet which Sam thought was a record of yours. You chose to give in and climbed into the truck with Bucky and Sam since your body was already aching from the previous fight. 

“Okay, so we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” Walker asked, his eye on you as you sat in between Bucky and Sam. 

“They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the Blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.” Sam told Walker what he knew. 

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky grimaced as a bruise on his face started to form. 

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record. No offence.” Walker looked over at Bucky as he hinted at the winter soldier. 

“We need to figure out where they’re going.” You wanted to shift the attention away from Bucky. 

“She speaks? I have to admit I was starting to wonder.” Walker smiled at you which only made you want to punch him even more than you already did.  

“How’d you track ’em here? The Flag Smashers?” Sam could tell you were a second away from decking the new Captain America and hopping ship so carried on the conversation. 

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through Redwing.” Hoskins notified Sam. 

“You hacked my tech?” Sam was beyond irritated at this point. 

“Sorry. It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property. Kind of the government.” Walker laughed as he gestured to himself. “Does he always just stare like that?” He stopped laughing under Bucky’s stare. 

“You get used to it.” Sam muttered. 

“Okay, look, you know, things have gotten kind of, uh––”

“––Chaotic.”Hoskins helped Walker find the word. 

“Yeah.” Walker cleared his throat. “The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.”

“Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.” Hoskins tried filling you in as if you hadn't heard about it before. The GRC propaganda was plastered across all the cities in America. 

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that. We understand but why exactly are you two here?” You questioned, cocking your head towards Walker. 

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable.” Hoskins replied first.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause.” Walker added on. 

“Usually said by the people with the resources.” Sam smirked at the men. 

“Well, we got a lot of resources. If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could––”

“––No.” Bucky shut Walker down immediately. 

“I got mad respect for both of y’all. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Hoskins wasn’t helping the situation. 

“Who are you?” Bucky asked genuinely. 

“Lemar Hoskins.” Hoskins introduced himself once again. 

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.” Sam backed Bucky up on that one. A name was nothing in this situation.

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.” Hoskins nodded towards Walker and you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips when Bucky responded. 

“Battlestar? Stop the car!” Bucky called up ahead. 

The car slowed as it pulled into a bus stop. Bucky pushed open the door and you followed. You couldn't stand sitting in front of that man in that uniform another second longer. 

"Look, I… I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do. You didn’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I’m… “ Walker turned back to Sam. “I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be. That’s it. It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” 

Sam scoffed at Walker’s choice of words. Wingmen? He really had the audacity. 

“It’s always that last line.” Sam jumped out of the vehicle and followed you and Bucky. 

Once back on the aircraft you stripped of your weapons and jacket. 

Sam and Bucky did the same. 

You sat down on your seat and rested your head back against the wall. You needed an ice bath. Your muscles were screaming at you. 

“You alright?” Sam asked Bucky as he sat, his eyes locked on the floor. 

You opened your eyes to look over at the men. 

“Let’s take the shield, Sam. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” Bucky sounded pretty decided. 

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it. Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?” Sam sat up slowly as he furrowed his brow at the idea.

“Maybe.” Bucky grumbled. 

“I’ll help you in case you forgot.” Sam proclaimed, “Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our ass handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing.” 

Even though you did spend some time in Wakanda under protection from their government, there was a period where you were on the run with Steve and Sam and it wasn’t fun. Being pardoned after the fight against Thanos was one of the best things that happened to you; it’s what allowed you to go home. 

“Not entirely true.” Bucky pushed himself onto his feet. “There is someone that you should meet.” 

Bucky’s eyes met yours and you knew who he was talking about. 

You had seen Bucky's past. Everyone of Bucky’s memories. You had seen all the death and the pain and the fighting. You had seen the Winter Soldier and pre-world war Bucky and you had suffered for it for some time. Nightmares used to plague you but you had managed to block most stuff from your mind over the years. Especially the Winter Soldier memories because that wasn’t really Bucky; that was a weapon made by Hydra. 

You had been forced by the team to check his memories to see if he really had bombed the UN but you couldn't choose how far you looked back, you gift made you see everything from the earliest childhood memory up to that moment. 

You stood and approached Bucky.

“Are you sure about this?” You whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s forearm as you pulled him to one side.

“He should know.” Bucky’s eyes seemed so sure. You dropped your hand down from his arm to his hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“Alright then.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as you accepted his choice. 

Soon enough the route was changed and the plane turned. 

“Will you come?” Bucky asked as the door to the plane opened. 

“I’ll wait here but call me if you need me.” You didn’t feel like seeing Isaiah. Some of the time if something from Bucky’s past showed up it could trigger his memories in your own head which you didn’t particularly enjoy. 

“Alright.” Bucky sighed but left without you. 

Only a short while later you had received a phone call from Sam. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“It’s Bucky. He’s been arrested. There was a warrant out for his arrest.” Sam informed you. 

“Why?” You were confused. Bucky had been pardoned like the rest of you for his crimes and his warrant wiped. 

“He missed his therapy session or something. I’m heading back to your, we gotta go get him out.” Sam hung up pretty quickly. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about the super solider?” Sam asked you as you made your way to the station. 

“I only knew because I’ve been inside Bucky’s head but if I listed off every single person Bucky has fought or killed or wronged it would take me a while.” You hated admitting that but the Winter Soldier had done a lot of damage. 

“But this was a black super soldier who rotted behind bars for years! Being experimented on like a lab rat whilst Steve sat in the ice and Bucky ran around playing secret assassin!” Sam was angry and you understood why. 

“I didn’t know he was in prison. I only knew of him as the guy Bucky fought in Goyang and lost. I figured if Bucky wanted him found then he would say. It’s not my place, they’re not my memories.” You tried to defend yourself but you knew Sam would never understand your logic. 

“How can I trust you if you’re sitting on information like that?” Sam catechised you. 

“Because you’ve trusted me for years. I say what needs to be said and if it isn't useful to us at the time then I don’t bring it up. I have so much inside of here from people that aren’t even around more. When I go inside someone’s head the memories don’t just go away. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s memories I’m thinking of when I look back on things. I block what I can and deal with what I can’t.” You stopped Sam in the hallway as you snapped. You couldn’t believe he was questioning whether he could trust you or not after everything. 

“I know it can be hard for you. I can’t imagine what its like but there are some things more important than others and Isaiah. Isaiah is one of them.” Sam’s words just made you turn and head to the desk. 

You tried to get as much information about Bucky but all they instructed you to do was sit and wait. 

“Sam?” A woman approached you and Sam. You lifted your head up at the sound of her voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist.” 

You shook hands with the woman and introduced yourself. 

“I’ve heard some about you too.” Dr. Raynor smiled as she greeted you. 

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam thanked her as he shook her hand but she only furrowed her brow. 

“That was not me.” She told you both. 

“Christina!” You didn’t need super hearing to recognise that voice. “Good to see you again!” Walker was signing autographs as he entered the station. 

“You gotta be kidding me. You know him?” Sam only said what you were thinking. 

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.” Dr Raynor looked between Sam and Walker. 

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in.” Walker approached her which made you stepped back. “Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” Dr Raynor protested. 

“Um…” Walker pointed to himself. You felt a fire flare inside of you. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I.”

Walker then pointed to you and Sam. 

“You too, Wilson. (Y/l/n). I’ll be outside.” Walker backed away, sending a wink in your direction. 

You felt Sam take hold of your wrist quickly before you could even take the chance to lunge forward. 

“Breathe.” Sam told you. “We’ll deal with that asshole later.” 

Bucky was allowed through and Dr Raynor approached him immediately.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam.” She insisted as she headed back towards the cells from which Bucky had just come from. 

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with (Y/n).” Sam brushed off the offer except it wasn’t an offer. 

“That wasn’t a request.” Dr Rayor warned him. 

You pushed the man forward. 

“Quicker you’re in, quicker you’re out.” You told him. 

“Why doesn’t she want you?” Sam pouted. 

“Get moving before I get bored and decide to use John Walker out there as my new punching bag. Get myself in trouble.” You tried to make the man laugh but failed. He only groaned and dragged himself inside. 

It didn’t take long for Sam to storm out of there who was swiftly followed by Bucky. 

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam as he returned to you. 

“Peachy.” He sneered.

You sighed and followed both men outside. 

“Well, I feel better.” Sam announced once you were all finally outside. 

“I feel awful.” Bucky muttered which made you want to take his hand but you refrained as a siren drew your attention over to Walker and his buddy. 

“Gentlemen. Lady. Good to see you again.” Walker had a smile on that you wanted to wipe clean off. “ Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.” 

“Well do you have anything that’s actually useful?” You folded your arms across your chest as you closed in on the men.  

"Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” Walker started. 

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” Hoskins continued. 

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker finished. 

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip. So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Bucky’s glowered at the man as he leant on the cop car. 

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” Walker smirked as he snapped back. 

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky rose his voice. 

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” Walker rose his voice also. 

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Bucky was being cocky. You had to stop yourself from finding it amusing. 

“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam interrupted and seemed to clear the air a little. You took his last words as a chance to leave but Walker wasn’t done.

“A word of advice, then.” Walker stopped you all. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

You watched the two men walk away. Your jaw clenching together to stop you from saying something you’d regret. 

“Come on.” Sam urged you on and you forced yourself to walk away. 

Once you were far enough from the station Sam asked you both what you were thinking. 

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’...” Bucky was the one of out you both to speak first. 

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.” Sam began. 

“No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people.” Bucky corrected him. 

“Not a chance.” You shook your head, putting your foot down. 

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Bucky claimed. 

“Bucky, I know where you’re going with this and I’m saying no.” You couldn’t believe he was even suggesting it. 

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky tried to reason with you. 

“Don’t you remember Siberia?” Sam also knew exactly what Bucky meant. 

Bucky nodded. 

“So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam stared at Bucky with a mixture of shock and concern. 

“Yes.” Bucky was hesitant to answer which only made you hate this idea even more. 

“Okay, then.” Sam sighed. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.” 

“No! No, we aren’t not going to see Zemo!” You demanded causing both the boys to stop. 

“(Y/n), it’s different now.” Bucky declared. 

“It’s the only lead we got.” Sam was actually on Bucky’s side. 

“What? And you think he’s just gonna help us like that?” You scoffed out of disbelief. 

“We have to try.” Bucky started to walk again. 

“I trust this guy about as far as I can throw him, Buck!” You exasperated. 

“That’s more than me.” Sam murmured but you chose to ignore it. 

“(Y/n). We’re going.” Bucky wasn't arguing anymore. It was going to happen. 

(PART 2 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tags

@florencxs​ @mystictimetravelcolor​ @yourphotographyteen16​ @shannon-posts​​ @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch​

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #sam Wilson imagines #Sam Wilson #falcon #the winter soldier #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan imagines #Sebastian Stan x reader

[fraybay]

Little Secret

A/N: Giving this whole fanfic thing a try! Hope y’all enjoy.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Rockstar!OFC

----------

"Hate the fact that you gotta wait, but you gon' wait 'Cause you confident that we soulmates I told my therapist about you She always takes your side Ain't nobody I love more, I just need more time" 

Marley sighed as her phone rang and buzzed across the counter in front of her. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she reached out to silence it.

“You don’t think making that his ringtone is a little overkill?” Kia, her hairstylist shook her head and locked eyes with her in the mirror, "Also, it’s been three weeks. You know he's just going to keep calling and texting, right?" 

She snorted, “Let him seethe. It's what he deserves for embarrassing me.”

The other woman gently squeezed her shoulders before she returned to working on her hair, “Mar, the public doesn't even know about you two. As far as they know, you two are just friends who met while featuring on Nas' song a few years ago.”

“You know,” the singer held up her hand and started counting, “All of Purple Hull knows. All of Private Garden knows. Our close industry friends know. I couldn't care less about the public, but he's not going to embarrass me in front of our friends!”

Kia started to respond, but Marley kept ranting, “And what’s worse is he did it on some snake shit. How do you play me every song but that one before the album drops?” She crossed her arms, “Because he knew his ass was going to be in trouble. So, he can go be with the rest of his fucking roster. I'm a generational talent. He ain't bout to play me like I'm in the G-League when I'm clearly a Luka.” 

Riley, who had been silently observing their exchange from her seat on the couch, finally spoke up to ask, “You're going to curse him out tonight, aren't you?”

“If he keeps his distance, no,” she huffed.

Riley pushed herself off the couch, “Let me go change out of these heels into flats, just in case.”

                                  *******************************

“This is Marley. Sorry to miss your call. I’ve got the machine; you’ve got the message. You know what to do.”

With a frustrated groan, Jack hit the end call button on his steering wheel without leaving a message.

He ran a hand through his hair as he spoke to his best friend, “She hasn't answered me in three weeks, Urb.”

Urban didn’t even glance his way as he responded, “Gee, I wonder why?”

“She's literally a rockstar,” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “She's acting like she's never embellished a song.”

“If you thought the song was fine, you wouldn't have hidden it from her when you played her the album. Which, by the way, we all told you was a terrible plan.” Urban took a hit of his blunt before he continued, “You gotta admit, ‘but you gon wait’ does make her sound like a lost puppy following you around just waiting for you to decided she’s good enough to commit to.”

“No one even knows it’s about her,” he argued.

“No one outside of our circles knows it’s about her,” Urban corrected, “but y'all both travel with big ass entourages, bro. We're easily in the double digits of people who know about you two and your complicated ass relationship.”

“I said good things about her in that song and on Poison,” he defended.

Urban laughed, “Shit, don't take any drinks from her tonight. She might actually poison your ass, but like the bad kind.”

Jack reached over to lightly smack his friend on the shoulder, “You stay thinking you're funny and this ain't it.”

Urban shrugged and took another drag, “As long as I'm laughing, I could give a fuck if you do.”

Jack flipped him off before he turned the radio up to end the conversation.

                                 *******************************

As soon as they entered the venue, the rest of Marley’s band and her team headed straight to the bar or dance floor.

Marley decided to make her way over to the man of the hour to get her well wishes out of the way since she knew as the night wore on, more people would be showing up. She climbed up the spiral staircase to the VIP section and gave her name to the bouncer standing guard. After he let her in, she made a beeline for Nas.

As soon as he saw her, he pulled her in for a hug while exclaiming, “Marley!”

“Nas!” She pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped around his waist, and looked up at him, “How's my favorite rapper?”

He flashed her a big grin as he answered, “Oh, he's sulking around here somewhere since you ducking calls and texts.”

The singer dropped her arms and nudged him with her shoulder, “Imma be nice to you since it’s your birthday, but know that you need to get your jokes in now because that carriage changes into a pumpkin at midnight and I'm gonna drag your ass.”

“You wouldn't dare.” He reached out and pinched her cheek, “You love me too much to be mad at me for more than 2 seconds.”

“Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!”

He slung an arm around her shoulder as he asked, “Just do me a favor, okay?”

She shot him a skeptical look as she inquired, “What?”

“There are private rooms in the hallway right off the bathrooms. If you're gonna give him hell, do it in one of those?” he pleaded.

Marley pretended to be offended, “Are you saying I'm gonna cause a scene?”

Nas laughed, “Girl, I've seen you in a mosh pit. Yes, that’s exactly what I'm saying.”

                                 *******************************

Marley leaned against the bar, sipping on her whiskey sour. She felt someone slide into the seat next to her and she knew, before she even looked over, exactly who it would be.

“So how long do you plan on pretending I don't exist, pretty girl?" Jack tried to keep his face and posture neutral since he knew cameras were around to cover the party, "Because I'm only in LA for the next 5 days and you're wasting time we could be spending together.”

Marley scoffed, “I'm giving you the time you so publicly requested.”

He rolled his eyes, “I do believe the song said I needed more time, not space.”

“Well, as you know from experience, I've always been a generous lover so I'm kind enough to give you both.” She turned toward him to look him up and down, “You're welcome.”

Marley downed her drink, set the glass back on the bar, and slid off the bar stool to walk away, but Jack lightly grabbed her arm and gently guided her back into the space between his open legs.

Even though he was sitting, and Marley was standing, their height difference still required him to lean down a bit to whisper in her ear, “I know Nas gave you the same directions as me so we can either head to one of those back rooms or you can cause a scene, Marley girl.” Jack released her arm, “Your choice.”

Marley took a step away from him and turned around to glare at him before she motioned towards the bathrooms, “I'll follow. You don't get the privilege of watching this ass walk in front of you.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at her statement as he stood and began making his way through the crowd with Marley holding onto the back of his shirt to make sure that they didn’t get separated.

Once they found an unoccupied room, he opened the door to allow her to enter first, but she just stared at him until he entered first. Once Marley entered the room, she shut the door and locked it before she leaned against it.

Jack started to reach out to pull her toward him, but she held up a hand to stop him. He dropped his arms and reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“You're seriously bothered by this?” he demanded.

Marley snorted, “What gave you that impression, Jack? My lack of response to you or the fact I didn't share your album on my socials.”

He crossed his arms as he questioned, “And what about all the other stuff that you know is about you?” He waited for her to answer and when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to he asked, “So, you don't care that Poison is about you and that I got Wayne on it since he's your all-time fave rapper? Don't care I gave a nod to you in Like A Blade of Grass since you always say I remind you of the class clown from your high school ap classes?”

He placed a hand on each side of her head against the door, invading her personal space but not touching her, “Is that the only thing my Marley girl is mad about?” Marley’s eyes fluttered close as he leaned down to huskily murmur in her ear, “Are you also mad that I told the world about the mirrors you had me install in my house so you could watch how well you take me? Are you mad I hinted that you let me tape us?”

Jack caressed her face and she leaned into his touch. He trailed a finger along her jaw until he reached her ear, and he flicked the hoop that adorned it, “Are you mad that I told the world about how I fuck the earrings off of you?” He chuckled at the way Marley’s breath hitched as he moved his body flush against hers and nuzzled her neck, “If all these people listening to the album only knew how many of these damn hoops you've made replace.”

“Fuck you,” Marley ground out through gritted teeth, hating the way her body always reacted to Jack’s onslaughts.

She yelped as Jack lightly bit her neck before he admonished, “Fuck me? Seems like instead of worrying about earrings, I need to fuck the brat out of you.”

His rebuke felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured on her and snapped Marley out of her reverie. She pushed him away from her, “I'm not being a brat, Jackman, and you're not about to fuck your way to forgiveness.” She sighed, “It's not even really about the song. I mean, I really hate it, but the fact that you intentionally lied to me is fucked up and you know it.”

Jack held up both hands in defense at the use of his full name, “I didn't lie.” 

“A lie by omission, Jackman, is still a lie,” she asserted. “You and I have always been honest with each other about what this is and how we feel. You knew I wouldn't like it and chose to wait until it was too late for me to give you hell and have you change it.” 

“Fine,” he acquiesced, “I shouldn't have done it. My bad. Can we go back out there now and have a good time?”

“The fact that you think that's a real apology is wild. But that’s okay. That’s exactly the sort of attitude I’d expect from someone who looks up to Drake.” Marley unlocked the door and swung it open before she turned back to him, “Just remember, you aren't the only one who writes songs in this equation.”

Before he could respond, Marley stormed off without a single glance back.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x black ofc #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x original black female character

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Sensate Focus

A bitch takes one Human Sexuality class and gets stuck on the fucking Sensate Focus bullshit then has to write a fic about it. Its me. I’m the bitch. 😂

Warnings: Geralt is self depriciating-whats new, insecure jask, insecure geralt, overwhelmed by touch, big vulnerability, they’re in couple’s therapy, so like, its a rocky relationship, we got some connection building and cuteness in the end too, its not all bad, mentions of sex, nudity but like not in a smutty way, for once I dont think i used a single swear word? I had big feels while writing it i really hope they translated lmao.

I am but a humble psych major, not an actual therapist, so plz don’t come at me if shit isn’t accurate. I tried my best.

Also this is under a cut for a reason, not just length. If you are easily triggered by touch starved type fics this is not for you. It gets emotionally heavy plz read with caution.  

____________________________

“You want us to what?” 

“Come on, Geralt. You said you’d try.”

“I- no. Just- why? What’s the point?”

Both Geralt and Jaskier turned to their therapist, each equally confused and a little scared. 

The tiny woman kept her face completely impassive and answered his question, “The exercise helps people get out of their heads and reacquaint themselves with, not only being open with their partner, but also slowing down and enjoying touch for touch sake. Without being so focused on the end goal of sex or pleasing a partner, people can begin to refocus on the connection attachment theorists claim is the underlying motivation for sex without reproduction in the first place.”

Geralt swallowed hard. This was for him and he knew it. He’d said it himself, he was fucking terrified of failure and rejection and that absolutely extended to Jaskier. His husband. Of five years. Who’d been with him for ten. Logically it made no fucking sense, but the woman with the PhD had told him this was rather normal for a child of divorce as if he’d said he didn’t like horseradish sauce. He didn’t see how being scared of your spouse secretly hating you was normal in the slightest. 

He glanced over at Jaskier who sat at the other end of the black leather sofa picking at his nails. When they’d gotten married they’d laze around all day just holding each other and talking. It was safe and sweet and Geralt couldn’t for the life of him remember how it was tainted.

“Alright,” he grunted, “What’re the rules again?”

-

The next afternoon they’d carved out an hour and a half with no distractions, no phones, not even any music to Jaskier’s dismay. Apparently that was against the ‘guidelines - not rules’. 

They stood in their bedroom, lights dimmed and curtains drawn, as much for the ambiance as for the privacy. Geralt felt his stomach flip flop as he stepped out of his clothes, feeling a bit ridiculous. It’s not as if this was the first time they’d seen each other naked, but it was the first time they were to spend ‘as much time as necessary’ -whatever that meant- touching each other, one at a time. 

Jaskier dropped his clothes in the laundry bin and stood with his arms crossed, almost like he was hiding, “Right. So… Do you want to go first? Maybe go over things again?”

“Do you want to go first?” Geralt asked, immediately drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to gnaw at the peeling skin. 

“I just want to know why you look so scared, to be honest,” Jaskier breathed. 

Geralt took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wasn’t the only one being vulnerable here, “Not scared. Just nervous.”

“Rules then?”

Geralt nodded, “No talking. No, uh, erogenous zones. No sex. No kissing. If you don’t like something or it’s a big turn on or it tickles, move the other person’s hand.” the weight in his chest lessened a little bit, this really was simple. Just touching Jask. Something he’d done a million times. Hell he might not even get anything out of it. He didn’t need to be so damned worried about things going wrong. 

“If you get overwhelmed think about temperature and texture and how it feels. Don’t think about what the other person is thinking or feeling. The only bit that matters is moving their hand,” Jaskier added, his posture relaxing ever so slightly as he rocked up on his toes and back down.

Geralt stepped a little closer, holding out his pinky finger, “We don’t stay still if we don’t like something.” He said it more to reassure Jaskier than anything. 

Jask hooked his pinky around Geralt’s and smiled, “No barreling through,” he agreed. 

“Can I, uhm… go first?” Geralt kept their pinkies hooked together as he let their hands hang between them. 

Jaskier looked surprised, but nodded fervently, “Of course!”

“Okay,” Geralt pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair before stepping a bit closer, hovering both of his hands over jaskier’s shoulders, “So I just-?”

Jaskier nodded and whispered, “No talking, love.” 

Geralt let out an amused huff, the irony of the words bringing a soft smile to his face. He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out as he placed his hands over Jaskier’s arms. 

Sensations. He could do this. He was doing this.

Jaskier’s arms were soft, both in texture and in feel, giving way to Geralt’s fingers ever so slightly when he squeezed. He trailed his hands down over Jaskier’s elbows, noting the patches of dry skin over the joints that Jask had been scandalized by in college. His forearms had more hair, but it was softer than Geralt’s, silky even, and nice to touch. Geralt trailed his fingers down Jaskier’s wrist and back up, watching as the little hairs stood on end but seemed to stick to the pads of his fingers as he moved past them. When he noticed the goosebumps he glanced up to Jaskier with mild panic in his eyes, worried he’d already fucked it up and made him uncomfortable. But his husband just nodded, a light smile on his lips. 

Temperature. Back to task.

Geralt picked up Jaskier’s hand, holding it in one of his as he skimmed his fingers over his knuckles and calluses. His palms were warmer than the back of his hand and it seemed every spot where his skin had built up from use was just a tad colder than the thinner skin next to it. 

He gently guided Jaskier’s hand back down and trailed his hand up his arm, ghosting his fingers over his collar bone. He thought about how much softer this skin was, and how it made the butterflies in his stomach go wild as he moved back and forth over the spot a few times. He liked the pleasant little pitfall of his stomach, not arousal but not unlike it, just a little higher in his abdomen and lighter. He moved his other hand to mirror his movement’s on Jaskier’s other shoulder, palms soon coming to rest over his chest almost on their own. 

Geralt was so aware of his hands they almost felt numb. It made him think of one of those motor skills brain maps where it showed how much of your brain was devoted to moving which part of your body. Those huge chunks devoted to his hands must have been screaming. 

Jaskier gasped as a bit of his chest hair got caught in Geralt’s ring as he swept his hands downward. Geralt gave him an apologetic look but just got a grin and slight shake of his head in return instead of the shock he expected. 

Geralt continued, moving his hands in slow circles over Jaskier’s abdomen and hips and flanks, marveling at the warmth he felt not only under his hands but spreading through his chest. He let his hands rest above Jaskier’s hips, just at the bottom of his ribs and watched as his hands slowly moved apart and back together in time with Jaskier’s breath. It looked like such a small movement, but when he closed his eyes he felt like he was throwing his arms wide open. He tried matching his breathing to Jaskier’s, but that was close to overwhelming, so he moved on, refocusing on the texture and thickness of his chest hair as he moved up to his neck. 

One of his hands stayed resting on Jaskier’s chest as his other brushed up the side of his neck with the backs of his fingers. Even with such light pressure he could feel the thick ropes of muscle and tendons under his skin. It was warmer over his pulse point and Geralt’s breath hitched when he felt the little thump of a heartbeat under his fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment, surprised to find himself taking a deep breath, not out of fear or frustration, but to sink into the feeling as much as he could. He counted the beats, making a note of how comforting the feeling was. The longer he held his fingers in place, the softer the beats became, until they leveled out to a soft and steady thrum. 

When Geralt opened his eyes the beats picked up, matching the strange look on Jaskier’s face. Geralt moved his hand over his jaw and back a few times. He could almost hear the ridges of his fingerprints catching on Jaskier’s stubble as he traced over his upper lip. 

He felt a soothing sense of familiarity when his fingers grazed along the outline of Jaskier’s lips. His body latched onto the feeling and he found himself starting to get watery eyes as he reacquainted himself with the thin pink skin. He remembered their first kiss and how much it scared him even though he craved it so completely. He remembered kissing Jaskier over and over and over when they’d finally said ‘i love you’ and dropped the casual pretense. He remembered their kiss at their wedding, soft, firm, and a little wet with happy tears. 

An annoying voice that sounded an awful lot like their therapist sounded off in his head, “This is what I was trying to tell you, asshat. Focus on the positive.” 

Geralt smiled despite the sharp tug behind his eyes that told him he might cry, and brushed his fingers up over the thin skin beneath Jaskier’s eyes, careful not to press hard enough to catch and pull at the blueish skin. He traced his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones and hollows, his chin, and his cupid’s bow, all with that same surprisingly pleasant near-tears feeling in his chest. He watched Jaskier’s eyes watching him as he carded one hand through his hair. 

That was what did it, what made the tears start to dribble down his cheeks as his hands continued to gently comb through his husband’s hair. The look of wonder and relief he was met with was overwhelming. He felt a bit of guilt, sure. Guilt for letting things get as bad as they’d been, but he was overwhelmed by how much love he felt. It permeated his whole body and the air around him. He hadn’t even felt this in the beginning; this was a settled and sure feeling, not the frantic need he’d felt before. 

Geralt pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes, sending a fresh wave of tears over his cheeks as he brushed his hands over Jaskier’s back. He traced his spine, counted every rib, and outlined his shoulder blades with the tips of his fingers. 

Their fronts were pressed together, but technically it wasn’t against any rule, so neither of them moved back. Geralt’s hands moved to the dip in Jaskier’s hips, his thumbs brushing over the place where his skin creased when he sat and Jaskier wrapped his hands around his wrists. A warm puff of air washed over Geralt’s face as Jaskier breathed a small laugh and moved his hands up. Surprisingly enough, Geralt was only amused by being moved, filing the information away for later as he settled for measuring Jaskier’s breaths again, now leaning into the full body tingle he felt when they both exhaled. 

He wanted to stay right there for hours, but he suddenly wanted Jaskier to touch him. More than that, he wanted Jaskier to feel like him. He gave his sides a gentle squeeze as he straightened up and rocked back a bit, making the smallest bit of space between them.

“Switch,” he whispered, the soft sound coming out like crunching gravel in the charged silence. 

He let his hands fall to his sides as he opened his eyes, a little relieved to see he wasn’t the only one crying. 

Jaskier immediately reached up to cup Geralt’s cheeks and brush the tears away. It was odd, having to stay still when Jask was right there, when he could still feel the echoes of the sensations in his hands. But he stayed put, if for nothing else than the look of cautious excitement Jaskier was wearing. 

He wanted to tell him there was no need, that he would gladly spend the rest of the day standing in the dim light of their bedroom, silently taking turns softly caressing each other. But rules were rules.

Jaskier drew his hands a little closer together over his cheeks, making sure all the tears were smudged away with his thumbs as Geralt’s eyes fluttered shut. The warmth of his hands was soothing, especially when Jaskier slowly brushed his thumbs over Geralt’s eyelids. As Jaskier dragged his fingers over Geralt’s chin and brushed the backs of his fingers back up and over his cheeks, Geralt almost started to feel dizzy. He forced his eyes open and focused on watching Jaskier’s face. 

His tongue stuck out between his lips as his hands fluttered down his nose and to his lips. A wistful smile graced his features as he brushed over the chapped skin, pulling his bottom lip down just enough so when he let go it popped when it jumped back up to meet his top lip. Geralt tried not to smile, wanting him to do it again, but raised an eyebrow. Jaskier openly grinned and popped his lip a few more times before smoothing his thumb over it. He tucked some hair behind Geralt’s ear and cupped his hands around the base of his neck, gently pressing his thumbs into the tense muscles. 

A shiver ran down Geralt’s back as Jaskier brushed his hands out and over his shoulders, thumbing circles over the points where muscle just barely covered bone. Geralt watched his eyes, watched the little crows feet get deeper when he smiled and watched his brows lift up and together. 

It occurred to him then that Jaskier might have been just as lonely as he was, that the exuberant extrovert he’d married wanted this as badly as he did. It truly never crossed his mind until he saw it written plain as day on Jaskier’s face; he wasn’t the only one with insecurities in their relationship. 

Every bone in his body wanted to pick Jaskier up and crush him to his chest. The trails of goosebumps his fingers left over his skin made it even harder not to, but Jask was enjoying this. He’d even go so far as to say he was lost in it. Rules be damned, Geralt couldn’t take this away from him if he’d wanted to. 

When Jaskier’s hands ghosted over his navel he shivered and let his eyes flutter closed. If he wasn’t going to break and move he should at least lean into it.

However, being held without expectations, without needing, or even being allowed, to do or say anything in return was beginning to seem overwhelming. How had Jaskier just stood there and watched him? How could anyone just stand and constantly be told with the light brush of someone else’s knuckles over their cheek that they were desired and cherished? When the hands pressed to his chest told him over and over that he was loved, what kind of escape was there? 

One of Jaskier’s hands once again brushed his tears away and he leaned into it, lip trembling as he looked up at the ceiling trying to compose himself. Jaskier would have none of it, gently tilting his head down until their noses brushed and he was forced to look into his watery blue eyes. 

He needed this. Geralt was terrified but Jaskier’s expression spoke of a yearning that ran so deep even he probably couldn’t put a name to it. Geralt licked his lips and offered a watery smile, feeling warm relief when Jaskier smiled back and ran his hands down his arms to rest behind his elbows. He squeezed the meat behind his arms, the tops of his forearms, the tendons in his wrist, making his fingers involuntarily curl. Geralt didn’t move, he barely breathed, as Jaskier watched his own hands roam over Geralt’s like he’d never seen anything like it. 

When he stopped trying to run the sensation faded to a dull roar. Jaskier’s hands were warm and his breath across his skin was gentle. Geralt might even admit he felt a little bit worthy of the adoration in his husband’s eyes after a few minutes. 

Jaskier’s touches were light in some places, firm and grounding in others. Like when he circled his arms around Geralt and pressed his palms into the small of his back, resting his forehead where his collar bones met. Geralt had no idea how something so simple could make him feel so weak. He knew it wasn’t entirely true, but it felt like the only thing holding him up was Jaskier’s touch. When he rocked back, even if it was only an inch or so, Geralt had to fight not to follow him.

Jaskier rested his hands over his ribs, just above his elbows, and stared into his eyes. 

They’d agreed to say ‘end’ with their therapist. That’s what Geralt was waiting for. So when Jaskier whispered ‘enough’ and gave him a gentle squeeze it was all he could do to bite down on his lip and keep quiet. Of course he would say enough. The one word Geralt had struggled with from day one. Being enough always felt impossible, but he could begin to think of it as a bit more attainable standing in their dim bedroom without a sound in the world other than their breathing. 

He nodded and they both picked up their notepads and scribbled down the notes they were supposed to. Geralt’s was just a list of words but he didn’t care, he filled most of the page and chucked it on the bedside table before tugging on his sweats. 

When he looked up for Jaskier he found him staring at him, worry on his brow and pen hovering over what looked like a second nearly full page. 

“Do you, maybe want some tea while you write?”

He licked his lips and nodded, adjusting the blanket wrapped around his shoulders before going back to frantically scratching words onto his page. 

Geralt gently closed the door after him and took a deep shaky breath as he padded into their bright kitchen, running his hands through his hair. The kettle seemed to take forever with how fast his mind was racing, replaying every bit he could to lodge it in his memory. 

Jaskier was just closing his notebook and setting it on top of his laptop when he opened the door with his foot, careful not to spill any hot liquid on the carpet. 

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered, taking his cup and sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Geralt joined him and draped an arm over his blanket wrapped shoulders, “Of course.”

They slurped at their mugs in silence until Geralt was able to take a full sip without scalding the roof of his mouth. 

Jaskier’s voice was soft as he spoke, the air from his words interrupting the steam drifting up from his mug, “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” Geralt leaned in just a hair. 

“Why did you look up?” Jaskier rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder as he asked and it took Geralt a moment to remember he was supposed to answer.

“I…” he took a deep breath to pull his words together before he mis-stepped, “You stood still and watched me, and looked happy… and I wanted to do that for you… but I started crying again and I-hm. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want to be there-here. Wherever.”

One of Jaskier’s hands drifted from his mug to Geralt’s thigh, “I was just worried.”

“Didn’t translate, huh?” Geralt asked, giving him a light squeeze. 

“Not quite,” Jaskier chirped, almost giggling. 

Geralt hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head, “I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Now I know.”

There were a few more moments of silence before Geralt chuckled, “I didn’t realize your hips were so ticklish.” 

Jaskier snorted, an attempt at sipping his tea absolutely aborted to save a spill, “I’ve never been ticklish, Geralt.”

Geralt set his tea on his knee and tilted Jaskier’s chin up to look at him, suddenly concerned, “What didn’t you like about me touching your hips?”

Jaskier’s goofy smile turned a little sly, “Absolutely nothing. In fact,” he started, taking both their half finished teas and setting them on the window sill before turning to envelop Geralt in the blanket with him, pulling him down onto the bed, “I liked it a bit too much.”

#geraskier #geraskier in couples therapy #geraskier go to therapy #geraskier snuggles #geraskier intimacy #geraskier fluff #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #soft geraskier #Geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt fic #insecure geralt #touch starved geralt #overwhelmed geralt #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #insecure jaskier #lonely jaskier #sensate focus #is this weird? maybe #was it cathartic? absolutely #listen #i just want them to communicate in a way that works for them and each get what they need out of the relationship okay??? #i have a lot of feelings about this #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #soft witcher

[kithtaehyung]

Room 3 | PJM

summary: it’s just another normal day for you at the wellness center until it suddenly isn’t.  note: standalone for now! part 2 is semi-written but no solid plans atm. note 2 (june 7th, 2021): this will be revamped in the future! i really enjoyed this premise so i won’t get rid of it completely.  pairing: idol!jimin x massage therapist!reader  genre: fluff  word count: 9,188

-

-

Thirteen. 

The sidewalk underneath your feet has thirteen cracks in the little square you stand in.  Sliding a small rock into one of them provides you with something to do until you hear the squeaking, screeching brakes of a bus struggling to a stop in front of you.  

You adjust the strap on your shoulder as the doors open with a hydraulic hiss, and you give the driver a small smile before finding a place to stand.  There aren’t many people commuting today, so it’s a pleasant surprise that you get to sit down for a change. 

It was just another day in your life.  You got up this morning and did your routine, listened to your wake up music on repeat, and checked that you had your wallet, phone, keys, and earphones before heading down to the bus stop.  The very same earphones are still on as you now have your library on shuffle, and you hum along to the “na na na’s” of the current tune. 

Living in Seoul for about a year now, you were pretty settled in.  The people were accommodating, the quality of life was much better than where you were before, and you felt like you could live here for the rest of your days.  It was insanely tough at first, but the initial culture shock and feeling of loneliness lessened as you made friends and befriended coworkers.  You don’t have many people close to you here, but you can count on the ones that are.  

You turn your head to gaze out the windows.  Shimmering glass buildings tower over you, shops and street signs whiz by, and people look like they’re walking in slow motion as you follow them with your eyes.  Blips of pastels and bold colors mingle together and you look down to observe your own monochrome uniform.  For the place you worked at, you didn’t expect the clothes to look luxurious, but they’re actually designed very well.  And they’re soft.  

That’s enough for you.    

Your stop is next, so you hook your arm around the nearest pole to prep.  The steel has a coldness that seeps into your sleeve, but your only thought is wondering what you should eat for lunch.  

-

Why do you feel so tense? 

The sign right above you emits a sense of relaxation, but there’s a tightness in your shoulders.  Odd.  You lock your phone with one hand and grip the strap of your pack with the other before taking a deep breath.  You count down from three before letting it out.  

The hiss of your exhale mingles with the standard sounds of the city, and you concentrate on the flow of life both inside your body and the environment around you.  You did this often when you felt out of place, and it served to recalibrate you and your thoughts.  Storing your phone away, you make your way inside the frosted glass doors. 

Working at one of Seoul’s prestigious wellness centers was definitely something you were proud of.  If there was one thing you’ve wanted for years, it was for a way for you to massage yourself.  Everyone seemed to love your massages, but no one knew how to massage you.  That is, until you came here.  You’ve never experienced people knowing exactly where you were hurting and effectively working out all of those kinks during one session.  It was magical.   

What is even more magical is the fact that you joined the ranks of those same angels from above.  You love them, and they love you.

“Good morning! I hate you!” 

Well.

“Morning, Yoon,” you respond lowly as you take your earphones out and store them. “Love you, too.” As you walk around front reception, Yoon smiles at you and comments, 

“No, really, I think you legitimately repulse me now.”

You shoot her a look of pure terror. “What the hell did I do?”

“Nothing,” she sighs, dropping her eyes to the papers in front of her.  

In a state of panic, your mind speeds through any events that happened since the last time you saw her.  Did you accidentally ignore her once?  Look at her funny?  Yoon was big on body language. 

You didn’t realize you were still staring at her until she tapped the glass counter between you two.  “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re nervous. I just thought jokes would help.” 

What? 

“I’m not nervous, just tense for some reason.  Although, you definitely made it worse,” you admit, “I might need to take a longer break today and somehow get Jay to rub my shoulders.  Maybe I can bribe him with samgy--” 

“--Uhh, forget him; have you even checked your client list for this week?  I’ll do anything if you switch your schedule with me.” 

Double-what?

“Okay, now you’re just being weird,” you chuckle, “But also, no, I haven’t checked yet.  It’s Monday!”   

In a sing-song manner, Yoon warns, “You better check your schedule before I snatch it...”

You laugh again and wave her off, but her words only mess with your head.  As you make your way to the back room, you fidget and check your phone for any notifications you missed between when you exited the bus and now.  You don’t know what you expected: still nothing.  

As if you feel the weight of eyes on you, you glance up and notice some people are giving you looks.  

What in the hell is going on?  It’s 7am on a Monday and therefore way too early for people to be this upset with you.  Yoon may have said she was joking, but by the looks of everyone else...

A hand claps onto your shoulder, causing you to yelp and feel like you rocket right into the ceiling.  Only the hearty laugh beside you clues you in on who you were getting revenge on later. 

“Geez, someone’s not looking forward to today.” 

“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Jay,” you seeth, hands rubbing your temples as you struggle to steady your heart rate. “Also, what’s so special about today?  Yoon was being strange just a second ago, too.”  

Your coworker looks at you like you have seven heads. “Okay, first off: if I had the amount of adrenaline in your body right now, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.  And second: you didn’t check your schedule yet?” 

They didn’t know it, but they were going to be the death of you. 

“No, I ha--It’s a Mon--you know what, I’m going to check now; you guys are killing me.” You leave Jay in a rush and race to the employee lounge.  The anxiousness in your chest is bubbling over.  

Jay’s on your heels, whispering loudly, “I can spoil it right now if you want!” 

You respond in a low voice, “Don’t you have a client to see?” 

“Nope!” 

You round the corner and see the back room door is already open, so you power through and head straight for the docking table on the other side.  Everyone working here has a personal tablet, and you unplug yours from the charging port.  Pressing through the menus as quickly as the tablet allows, you feel a thin layer of sweat on your skin.  Touch ID.  Login.  Main Menu.  Scheduling.  Weekly Outlook.  Confidentiality Prompt.

Shit. 

Confidentiality Prompts are for the therapists that have huge clients scheduled.  They’re put in place for celebrities and business executives to have guaranteed privacy.  

With a start, you wonder why the hell Yoon wanted your schedule.  Everyone here is wary of high-profile people.  It’s a whole different experience since they basically hold your life in their hands in each session.  You recall a horror story that happened when you first started working there, and still don’t know where that employee ended up.  

Your only problem is that you’ve never had to deal with this before.  Jay, Yoon, and a bunch of the veterans have, but this is going to be your first. 

“Damn, yours is longer than mine was,” Jay observes before you squeeze your tablet to your chest.  “That looks intense.” 

“Umm, snoopy much?” You shift your body away from him and speed read through the very long, very wordy window.  When you hit Accept, another window pops up that you have to read through.  This one is even more fine print. You suddenly realize something and dart your eyes up.  “Wait, you got one, too?” 

Jay nods and looks away, and he actually looks nervous.  “Yeah, we all got them this time.” 

Now that is alarming.  This client must be something else. 

Window after window comes up and you wonder if you should probably read these in earnest.  It’s starting to genuinely scare you.  

If this is that big of a deal… 

You banish that thought from your mind as soon as it appears.  Elephants would have to fall from the sky before you believe someone from that group is booking you here.   

You hit Accept before you realize you didn’t actually read and instead mindlessly scrolled through the prompts.  As the screen buffers, you bite your lip.

The screen goes back to normal and presents your schedule for today.  Your coworkers are living their normal lives, putting their stuff in their lockers and getting materials ready for various sessions.  Jay is being completely normal as he can’t stop laughing at your expression.  

And your life is anything but normal anymore because elephants are dropping from the clouds and the words Monday, 8am, Park Jimin are staring you right in the face. 

-

“You mean to tell me that you cleared your morning schedule just to see my reaction?” 

Jay laughs in earnest. “Yes, and it was so worth it.” 

You are failing to stop bouncing your leg as you wait at one of the tables in the employee lounge.  There’s a cup of coffee in front of you, but you already know you aren’t going to drink a drop of it.  You are about to be in close quarters with the equivalent of a royal family member, so coffee breath is out of the question. 

Suddenly self-conscious, you ask, “Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?” 

“I actually do.  Let me grab it.” 

As your friend gets up, you scrutinize the table in front of you to avoid peoples’ lingering stares.  How everyone somehow knew your upcoming client before you did was a mystery, but you don’t really care enough at the moment to find out.   

Jay hands you what you asked for and you thank him before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.  After you brush your teeth like a madman, you check your face for discrepancies and sigh at your choice of almost no makeup today.  

You can’t help but wonder if the thirteen cracks in the sidewalk are laughing at you at this very moment.  

Checking your smart watch, you realize you have either the longest or shortest 30 minutes of your life left before your appointment with Jimin.  

You huff out a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.  You refuse to believe this is real until you physically see him in the room.  Confidentiality forms or not, the name Park Jimin or not, you still can’t wrap your head around the situation. 

Speaking of the forms, you assume that they were printed out for company records as soon as you submitted yours to sign.  You decide to head back to the front desk after throwing Jay his spare toothbrush, to which he responds with pure disgust. 

-

It was like Yoon was waiting for you because as soon as you open the glass doors, she’s  hounding you, “So what did you do in a past life?  Did you save an emperor?  Rescue a prophet?” 

“I don’t know about a past life, but I did save a turtle when I was five.”  You tap your fingers on the reception desk and stare at the orchids on the counter.  “Or at least I thought I did.  I probably just made his life harder.  Can I see a copy of the forms I signed?” 

“I’m gonna go with the saved prophet.  Which one was it?” 

“Yoon,” you beg, desperate as you glance at the abstract clock above her and see that you have 20 minutes left.  A mere 20 minutes until he is supposed to arrive to check-in.

“Okay, okay!  Hold on,” she chuckles and rolls her chair away from you and towards the printer.  “By the way, if I wasn’t the one checking him in, I would’ve hijacked your entire day already.”  

Her words are garbled since you are laser-focused on rubbing an orchid petal between your fingers.  Its soft and supple touch is calming you, and just for a second, you are able to clear your thoughts.  

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when Yoon hands you the forms.  The paper is still warm as you thank her and head towards the doors. 

“Oh, wait,” Yoon calls behind you, and you turn to see her grabbing another small stack of papers.  When she extends them over the counter, she explains, “I was waiting until you saw your schedule to hand these over.  Read through them carefully.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, even more anxious than before. 

-

Your heart jumps into your throat when you see what Yoon handed over.  You don’t even remember the walk to the back lounge and to one of the secluded tables; all you can focus on are the papers in front of you.  They look like they were written on and scanned before being sent over to the wellness center.   

It’s Jimin’s handwriting.  

You’ve seen his penmanship before.  There is no mistaking the neat, determined strokes.  Even the way he checked the boxes and circled the pain points on diagrams proves very... well, him.  Any other uncertainty dissolves after you see his birthday filled in, as well.  

This is really happening.

You gently slam the papers on the table and hunch over to commit the information to memory.  Months and months of schooling have sharpened this ability of yours, and you are determined to imagine this as just another client you have to memorize.  

Light to medium pressure.  Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back.  Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points.  Facial area priority.   

A trip to the countryside right at this very moment sounds like a fantastic idea.  

Jay plops into the seat in front of you, and that thought bubble bursts.  “This color on your face suits you.  Reminds me of what’s-his-name, Edward.” 

“How much time do I have,” you question, not even acknowledging him.  

“Seven minutes.” 

“Of course,” you mutter before standing, the irony not lost on you.  “I’ll go prep now.” 

You don’t see Jay waving you off.  “If you survive, I’ll see you on the other side!” 

A laugh escapes you.  Personally, your only goal is to make it through five minutes.  If you pass away after that, you would have no regrets. 

-

You stand behind the reception doors with your tablet to your chest, staring at the wall across the way.  The subtle wallpaper pattern is a great choice for this place, you decide. 

Indescribable anxiousness and fear aside, you have a job to do.  As long as you keep your outside actions professional, your inner turmoil can be whatever the hell it wants.  You’ve been in this profession long enough and you know you’re ready to do this.  You’ve seen the whole spectrum of human emotion in this line of work.  No matter how well of a job you do, there are still people that are never happy.  As long as you focus on keeping the client’s wellness and health in mind, you keep your consciousness clear.   

Then again, you haven’t had to deal with a client like Park Jimin before, let alone a high executive or well-known actress.  

A muffled “Good morning and welcome” reaches your ears and you push yourself off the wall.  The frosted glass only allows you to see so much, but you can make out a few guys standing in the front area.  Two are taller and only wearing dark clothes, and the other is a bit shorter.  The latter is looking to be wearing a beanie, light colored top, and dark pants.

You can’t hear anyone talking other than Yoon, but suddenly the shorter one makes his way to your doors.  

It’s him.  You’re absolutely sure. 

Steeling your resolve, you pull your side open.  With a smile, you look straight at your client’s sunglasses-and-mask-clad face and greet him just like you would anyone else, “Good morning and welcome.  Am I speaking to Mr. Park?”

He stills for a second before he nods. 

“Nice to meet you.  We’ll be in Room 3.”

-

Jimin bows to you slightly and whispers a thank you, and you follow him to your room.  Your heart is rattling nonstop as you note the height difference between the two of you.  It isn’t as bad as you thought it was.  

The door to Room 3 is already open, and when Jimin enters you stop at the entrance.  

You lied earlier.  None of this feels real.  He’s physically in the room, and you still don’t think this is happening.

You let Jimin put his bag down on the corner chair before gliding into the formal greeting, “Since this is our first session, please let me know if there’s anything you need.  I did go over your forms, but if there was something that wasn’t specified, feel free to ask.  I want to make sure all of your needs are met today.” 

“Your name?” 

You falter. “What?”  Did he just... 

Jimin takes off his sunglasses, and you feel all oxygen leave your body.  He’s still wearing a mask, but you can see that his eyes are creased just a tad.  “It wasn’t specified on the forms.  Your name?” 

A part of you just chalks this up to being standard Jimin behavior, but the other part of you wonders if he really didn’t know whom he was getting a massage from.  Did Yoon not tell him?  Check-in is supposed to confirm your specialist. 

You also note that his voice is infinitely softer in person.  TV and recordings did not do this man justice.  

Keeping it professional is all you must do.  You tell him your name, apologizing for not introducing yourself already.  It’s also on your tablet, so you show him while you talk. 

Jimin leans forward to read it and smiles again. “Ah.  Pretty.” 

Are your five minutes up?  Can you pass away now?  He’s a mere six feet away from you but it feels like his presence is engulfing you. 

All that escapes you is a tiny thank you.  “So, mhm,” you clear your throat and yell at yourself to get it together, “Go ahead and undress down to your comfort level and lie down on the bed with the sheet on top of you.  That remote there is connected to my tablet, so just take it off the charger and bring it to the bed. You can press the green button whenever you’re ready.” 

Jimin looks towards the console table next to him and sees the white remote.  It’s docked in a sleek charging port and stands out against the light wood.  He nods, and you give him one last smile before reaching out and closing the door.

-

The only words your brain can process at the moment are not work appropriate, so you just go on autopilot to the employee lounge.  You expected Jay or even Yoon to be chomping at your heels as soon as you left Jimin by himself, but neither of them are around.  That was completely fine: employees aren’t allowed to divulge anything that goes on in client sessions unless it’s dangerous to either of you. 

You help yourself to a cup of water and down it before pouring another.  The fruit flavor for today is strawberry, and you watch the fruit and ice swirl around as you stir the big glass container.  There are pastries and assorted breakfast foods calling your name in the clear cabinet next to you, but you refuse.  Your adrenaline is hindering your appetite.  

People are still giving you daggers for stares, but after seeing Jimin in person you really can’t blame them.  Even when you couldn’t even see his face, you felt his presence.  His aura filled up that entire room and he only spoke around ten words.  It would be a lie to say that you aren’t intimidated.  You can already count the number of times you almost bolted out of the room on two hands.  But you made yourself proud: as long as you keep your outer actions calm, you can get through this.  Your voice was fairly level for someone whose heart was bouncing out of their ribcage.  In the end, you want to make him feel comfortable and safe.  Emotions cannot exist right now.

Self-deprecation comes into play as you wonder if this is a huge mistake and if Jimin is already out the door to find a better therapist.  

Oh, well.  At least he said your name was pretty. 

Your doubts are casted aside as your tablet dings.  

Jimin’s ready for you. 

-

When you enter the room, you can see that your client followed your instructions completely.  You glance at the corner chair and see that he even folded his clothes and set his jewelry neatly on the thin, long table.  Since Jimin can’t see you from his position, you allow a warm smile to grace your features.  

You close the door as softly as you can.  The way the room is designed, the clients lie down so that their head is opposite the doorway.  It takes you a few steps until you reach the head of the bed.  You gingerly take the remote from where Jimin placed it next to his neck and turn around to redock it, and start to dim the lights with your tablet.  Per standard, you ask, “Mr. Park, is this okay, or would you like the lights lower?” 

His voice is projecting straight towards the floor, but it still sounds so light, “This is good, but please, call me Jimin.”  

That’s definitely not what you expected, but you are touched.  You nod before realizing that he still can’t see you.  “Do you have a music preference for today?”

“Whatever you prefer is fine.”  

Jimin is being so agreeable that your nerves start to dissipate.  You were expecting him to at least be a little particular at some things, but he is being really easy to work with.  The atmosphere starts to feel safe enough for you to joke, “Well, it does depend on my mood, so for now I’ll play Standard Spa Chord Progression, No. 5 instead of No. 3.” 

The small chuckle you hear melts your heart.  “Ah, is that the one with the harp?” 

“No, that’s Spa Concerto, No. 4. We don’t have that one in our library, but I think it’s terrible anyways.” 

Jimin’s head lifts from the table in an earnest laugh, and you can’t help but laugh with him.  It’s infectious.  

You select a random song on your tablet, and you weren’t lying when you said it was standard.  The song is less of a song and more like a bunch of reverberating chords in slow succession.  That’s one thing you noticed about this place: modern tech but very outdated music.  Get with the times!  At least have some nice piano covers to choose from. 

“Not having Spa Concerto, No. 4 may be a deal-breaker for me,” Jimin comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.  

You’re still tapping on your tablet to get to his file, and you make your way back to the door.  There’s a clear slot on each room’s door to hold employee tablets, and as soon as you store yours, you can finally start.  “I don’t blame you, even though I think it’s awful, that one still topped the char--Oh, shit!”   

You aren’t watching where you’re going, so you don’t see the shoes in your path.  It’s so dim in the room and his shoes match the floor color but none of that matters because right now you are falling and you are falling fast.  Your first instinct is to grab the table, but that would risk pulling the blanket off of Jimin and you would rather die than do that to him. 

So, floor it is.

Your hand not holding the tablet breaks some of the fall, but your face definitely makes contact with the ground.  You can feel the slight burn on your nose and hand, and a sharp lingering pain follows.  

Okay, now can you pass away.  Someone from the heavens can come claim you now.    

Drowning in shame, you don’t help yourself off the floor right away.  Not only were you breaking your rule and joking around, you also weren’t paying attention and now possibly ruined Park Jimin’s shoes.  

You’ll look up good resigning practices later tonight.  You have enough money saved up to make it a couple months without a job, you reckon.  

When you finally lift yourself off the floor, you turn around and see Jimin pushed up on the table.  His whole upper body is bare and twisted towards you, and this is the first time you see his entire face.  It’s more beautiful in person, you conclude, even though it conveys nothing but concern right now.  “Are you okay?” 

You nod furiously and stand up completely. Your voice is shaky as you apologize, “I am so sorry.  One moment.” Before checking yourself, you check your personal tablet.  To say it was worth more than you isn’t that far of a reach.  No scratches, though. Praise be.

“Don’t apologize… Did you trip on my shoes?”

Embarrassment washes over you as you nod, not looking at Jimin.  Placing your tablet gingerly on the console table, you dust your uniform down and inspect your hands and feel your nose.  Luckily, there’s no blood, only slight rug burns.  If there was blood, you would have to postpone the appointment until you effectively sanitized.  With what you have, you just need to go wash up.  

Jimin is still watching you intently, which makes your face burn even more.  What a mess.  He’s probably second-guessing this whole thing.  

You bow, feeling tears at the corners of your eyes.  “Mr. Park, I am so sorry.” 

“Jimin.” 

“I’ll just need to clean my hands and then I promise we will start as soon as I get back.  I know your time is valuable so I’ll make up for the minutes we lost.” 

“I… Okay.  Thank you.” 

You make your way out of the room, still courteous enough to shut the door quietly.  Rushing to the nearest sink, a small sob leaves your throat as you wring your hands under the water.  Life is kind to you at this moment because no one is around.  You would never live it down if someone saw you coming out of Jimin’s room crying.  

After splashing water on your face and drying it, you take out a cotton pad from one of the glass containers on the counter.  You press it onto your eyes, decreasing the evidence of your current state.  

So much for making Jimin feel safe and comfortable.  You’ve only made it awkward.   

-

With a deep breath, you enter the room.  

Jimin turns his head and puts it in the crook of his arm to look back at you.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  I’m sorry I couldn’t help you…”  

You go over to his shoes and move them under the chair, wincing when you see visible tears on them.  Guess you’re withdrawing a chunk of your savings to pay Park Jimin for damages.  

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you state firmly, but soften, “But I’m really sorry about the shoes; I may have torn them.  I can pay you back.” 

You hear sheets shuffling, and when you face him, Jimin’s fully on one elbow and turned towards you.  “No, please, don’t worry about those.  I should’ve put them out of the way.  I feel bad.”   

“It’s definitely my fault,” you countered, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Jimin uses your name, which stops you in your tracks.  “Everything’s okay, I promise.”

You should feel many different things, like pride in getting to see this man in person, or happiness from him actually addressing you by name.  But all you can think about in this moment is how disappointing you’ve been to another human being, and you sigh.  

You nod, but still plan to pay him back.  You know enough about designer brands to know those aren’t cheap, and they’re shoes you’ve seen him wearing a lot in photos.  

“It’s okay to lie back down,” you say softly, unmoving.  

Jimin searches your face one more time before settling back face-down on the table.  

It’s a normal day at work, you tell yourself.  Go through your routine.  

Launching yourself into action, you move to the far end of the console table.  Grabbing a bottle you’ve clutched so many times before that its label is wearing down, you uncap it and oil your hands and wrists.  You also unstopper a bottle of lavender oil and pour a few drops into the nearby bamboo diffuser and start it.  

You make your way to the head of the table and grab a rolling stool from a corner of the room.  The wheels on your chair don’t make any noise, which you fixed up yourself.  This day isn’t any different - it’s still silently gliding on the carpet.  Plopping your devastated self onto the cushion, you scoot towards Jimin’s head.  You’re about to place your hands onto his bare shoulders to start, but you whisper,

“It’s also okay if you want to cancel and reschedule with someone else, Mister--Um, Jimin.” 

You can’t believe you just gave Park Jimin a way out of a whole 60 minutes with you.  Where did this conviction and restraint come from?  Is this going to be the regret of your entire lifetime? 

After a long silence, Jimin answers with his face in the headrest, “If you call me Mister Jimin again, then I will.”

You huff out a laugh at his unexpected answer, and your shoulders finally relax.  It seems like he’s still fine after everything that’s happened, and you thank any deity you can think of for this second chance.  

-

Light to medium pressure.  Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back.  Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points.  Facial area priority. 

You aren’t a fan of light pressure, but you understand why people prefer it.  Not everyone can handle the deep tissue or harder pressure massages. 

Jimin’s shoulders are incredibly tense, though, so you feel bad that you’re limited in what you can do.  You allow some medium pressure to the worst spots, and when you approach the insides of his shoulder blades you lessen the intensity.  

Gliding your fingers back to the ridge between his neck and shoulders, you feel that his right is still tight.  You use your left elbow to work that knot, careful to press even lighter than you would with your hands. 

Jimin grunts, and you still. “Is that too much?”

“No, I like that.”

You keep that in mind as your hands travel over the rest of his upper back area.  From time to time, you reapply the oil to allow for less friction.  It lets your fingers slide deftly across muscles and quickly work any troublesome areas, which Jimin has a lot of.

It makes sense: you can’t even imagine the amount of pressure all of the boys were constantly dealing with.  There was a lull in their activity recently, so you knew something was in the works.  Between recording songs, shooting music videos, fulfilling their brand contracts, and whatever else they do, you’re surprised you don’t feel more knots under Jimin’s skin. 

The soft chords of the next song float around the room, and you lose yourself in your movements.  You can’t see his face, which makes it a lot easier.  You worked through his whole upper body, neck, and upper arms area so naturally that you were admiring his wrist tattoo before remembering who you were massaging.    

For the seven hundredth time that day, you cannot believe this is happening.  You really hope Jimin does feel safe here despite your whirlwind of thoughts.  Have you kept it professional enough?  Neutral enough?  He seemed to be fine with your joking earlier, and he didn’t seem upset about the shoes in the least.  

But still… Maybe he was just tolerating you because it’s the same situation for him, different place and day.  Putting yourself in his shoes, you would feel pity for you trying your best to accommodate him.  The pressure over everyone everywhere you go had to be exhausting.  It couldn’t ever be normal.  

Your shoulders suddenly slump under the weight of what you feel for him.  

And Jimin seems to notice.  “Really, it’s okay about the shoes.  Those were getting pretty worn anyways.” 

You still.  Of course he thought you were still fussing over the shoes and not over his life.  His unending consideration was like a burning hearth: it made you feel so warm.

“Okay,” you respond softly, “I understand.” 

“Good.  If you worry about them again, I’m walking out barefoot,” Jimin says sternly, even though you know he’s kidding.  “And don’t test me, I’ve done it before.” 

Your words leave you before you think.  “I don’t believe you.” 

“Oh?” 

Jimin puts his hands on the table and you yelp, “Okay, okay, stop!” 

He laughs and plops his arms back down flat.  You lament as you still can see how his muscles bulge in your mind.  

You shake your head and sigh before rolling to his left and softly taking his arm.  His skin is so soft you don’t even need the oil, you notice.  You work his forearm before moving down to his wrist and fingers.  Thinking about Jimin’s threat, you are pretty curious.  “Be honest: did that really happen?” 

“It didn’t,” he responds immediately, “But I thought about it once.  My shoes were killing my feet so I thought about walking without them until I found a shoe store.” 

It sounds so childish to you that you chuckle.  “Where was this,” you ask, completely intrigued now.

“Ah, I honestly can’t remember.  I think somewhere in Europe.”

“...Did you just pick an entire continent because you couldn’t remember?”

“...There’s seven continents and one of them is Antarctica!  Picking one out of six is easy.”

This man is something else. You finally finish off his right side, and you gingerly set his arm down on the table.  With a mental pat on the back, you get ready for the next part of the routine.  In your softest therapist voice, you instruct, “Okay, go ahead and turn over and slide down until your head is on the table.”

Jimin obeys right away, shifting over and moving down.  The white sheet slips down his body a bit, and you diligently pull it up until it’s covering everything up to his neck.  During this, you feel rather than see his eyes on you, so you don’t dare yourself to look. 

You go back to your plethora of containers to re-oil, and roll your chair to the foot of the table. All that time, Jimin thankfully has his eyes closed. 

You were equal parts dreading and looking forward to this part of the massage since his face was going to be visible.  This way, you can’t escape the reality of the situation.  

But you decided to follow the flow of the conversation.  You learned the subtle nuances of human communication throughout your experiences: when people wanted to talk or stay quiet, if they were liking the conversation or not, etc. Jimin seems to be fine with talking despite your assumption that he was going to be quiet for the most part.  It has definitely made this easier for you, though. 

“I want to visit all seven continents one day,” you decide to admit. 

“I do, too,” Jimin responds, eyes still closed. “How many do you have left?”

You start on his feet, working along the smooth skin. 

“Uhh, well,” you whisper, “A good chunk. I’ve only been here and back where I’m from, and I just moved here around a year ago.”

After you tell Jimin where you were before, he sounds amazed, “You seem like you’ve lived here for so long. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He’s definitely being nice.  You are just now getting decent at the language and customs, but there is still a lot you have to learn.

“But, I do want to start traveling again for a specific reason,” you divulge, sighing to yourself as you think yet again about your lofty dreams.

“Which reason is that,” Jimin asks, and you somehow know his eyes are open now. 

Your own eyes betray you as you connect your gaze with his. “I want to experience different techniques in person.” You don’t know he can feel the fire behind your eyes. “There’s no better teacher than experience, at least to me. I know I’m good at what I do currently, but there’s so much out there that I want to learn and get better at.”

You debate whether to keep going or not.  Jimin’s eyes are alight with curiosity, so you take that as your cue. It’s surreal that you get to talk about your dream with him of all people, so you strive to make it count. “Take music, for example: everyone agrees that music is healing, therapeutic.  But, there’s so many genres, so many ways to create it.  I see massage as the same way: therapeutic, but many different ways to make people feel better.” 

Jimin is silent as he tears his gaze from you to look at the ceiling. You concentrate on his ankles, working them as delicately but effectively as you can.  A part of you wants to keep talking, but you don’t want to push it. You may have said too much as it is.

The next song has soft chimes to accompany the rippling chords.  Lavender wafts through the air and quells your nerves.  You continue to Jimin’s lower legs and glide your fingers along the flow of his muscles.  When you feel a break or disturbance, you stop and tend to it until you feel it’s balanced.  After his lower legs are done, you move on to his thighs.  You feel tightness all over, and you apply medium pressure to these areas because of how much muscle they contain.  

Jimin’s legs are a work of art on the outside, but so chaotic on the inside.  The chakra highways are disjointed, and you have worked through so many kinks in the roads.  If you imagine yourself as someone walking down a path, you are stopping every 10 steps to smooth over a pothole or breakdown a hill in the way.  You can’t see how this person can even walk, let alone perform on stage like this.  All of them never cease to amaze you.   

“Where would you start?”

Jimin’s sudden inquiry throws you.  You swear he was silent for a good ten minutes.  “What?” 

His eyes are glued to the ceiling still.  “Which places do you want to visit?  Like, where would you go to learn?” 

“Well…”  You are almost too stunned to speak.  He has been thinking about what you said this whole time?  Aren’t there plenty of more important things he needs to be thinking about right now?  “There’s this technique called amma that originates in Japan, and there’s an American technique called esalen that I want to learn, too.  I think that one is from California.”  

On a high from Park Jimin’s interest in your life, you ramble about a few more, your voice getting more animated the more you talk about different things.  It can’t be helped; you’ve been passionate about traveling and learning for so long.  You’ve just never been able to really try it since money was part of the equation.  Or more so out of the equation.  In addition, you didn’t really get to talk about it with anybody.  No one’s actually asked.  But somehow, Jimin did.  

When you realize you actually stopped massaging his thigh, you look up in horror to apologize, “Oh, I am so sorry - I didn’t mean to stop.” 

Jimin’s head is turned to the side, his hair falling into his eyes.  The smile gracing his face is soft.  “It’s okay,” he assures you, “I feel much better already anyways.” 

Your cheeks flush before he even stops talking.  “That’s good,” you whisper, “We’re almost done so I would hope so.” 

“What!” Jimin’s eyes dart to the clock on the table.  It’s already 8:50am.   

That saddens you a lot more than it should. 

“On second thought: I feel tense in my hand, I think you need to go back and redo it.  Here.”  He’s extending his right hand towards you as if to shake hands, and you laugh.  

“Nice try, Jimin,” you say, “But I do need to work on your face for the last part.  Close your eyes for me, please.” 

He stares at you for a second before obeying.  The smile from earlier makes a return.  

You roll your chair back to the head of the bed and plop down.  Jimin’s face is angelic even upside-down, and you pray to the heavens that you massage it perfectly.  

When you start, you quip, “See?  You’re so happy we’re almost done.” 

“No, no!” Jimin laughs.  “That’s not it.  You just called me Jimin - it was nice.”  

“Oh.”  You swear steam is billowing from your head.  How can he affect you so intensely?  And how were you keeping yourself together?  

With the resolve of a thousand emperors, maybe including one you probably did save in a past life, you steady your hands on his temples.  Rubbing in delicate circles, you start the last segment.  

Face massages are your favorite.  Even the smallest movements are invigorating, and you feel very refreshed after one.      

“When I come back, Spa Concerto, No. 4 better be available.” 

You smile.  There’s no way Jimin will be back, but you appreciate his friendly nature.  

“It’s not even all that great, but I’ll let them know,” you play along. “I’m more of a piano person, though. There’s a lot of piano covers saved in my phone that are way better.” 

Jimin’s eyes flash open at the same time he proclaims, “Ah, I love piano covers!  Especially on rainy days.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, “I can listen to those all the time.”

Your heart drops like a stone as you glance at the clock and see your time is up.  The hour absolutely flew by.  Dropping your eyes back onto Jimin’s face, you take your hands off his cheeks and say, “Okay, that’s the end of our session today.” You get up to dry your hands and lower arms with a cloth while going over the last steps, “I’ll leave you to get dressed, and I’ll come back to the room to give you water and some stretch and wellness recommendations moving forward. Just press the green button on the remote when you’re ready, like last time.”

When you turn back to him, Jimin’s fully propped up with his hands behind him. The blanket over him is draped across his body, just enough to cover his ribs.  He’s smiling right at you as he speaks, “Thank you.  You’re really good.” 

You bow in thanks, face lighting up like wildfire. “You were great, too,” you comment in return, immediately cringing inside. “I’ll be back when you’re ready for me.”

-

Right after you leave clients is when you start filling out their evaluation and wellness recommendations on your tablet.  You just worked on them, so the memories are fresh.  The forms are a mix of multiple choice and fill-in, and you recommend some specific stretches and deeper pressure for Jimin. 

This time, Jay is in the employee lounge when you come in to wait.  His legs uncross and he pops up from one of the modern loveseats that are just as firm as they look.  “She’s alive!” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the flush in your cheeks.  “I’m here, but barely,” you chuckle, your tablet dangling in your hand by your side, “I still can’t believe that actually happened.”

Jay leans in so that no one can hear what he has to say, which makes you suspicious since there’s no one around you.  In a low voice, he reveals, “Yoon and I made a bet.” 

“Wonderful,” you drawl, “I’m gonna walk away now.”  You can already tell this is one-hundred percent not in your favor.

“No, wait!” His whisper is loud. He bounces after you to the water and food station. While you fix yourself a cup, he continues, “Yoon thinks you’ll get done with the appointment unscathed, but I think you’ll come out of it with a problem.” 

Jay’s words remind you like alarm bells.  

You need to pay Jimin for damages.  

“Oh, shit, I need to get something,” you say in a rush, grabbing your tablet off the food station and scurrying to the locker room.  In the wellness center, the employee lounge is in the back, and the locker room is in the back of the lounge.  You think you still have time before Jimin is ready. 

There’s a notebook you keep in your bag along with a pencil case.  Tearing a sheet from the notebook, you write down what you think is a good estimate for the shoes.  Before you write anything else, you pause.  

You only skimmed through the confidentiality prompts, but you do remember a section about personal information.  Therapists aren’t allowed to give out their personal information unless specifically asked, and there has to be solid intent behind the client asking.  Jimin didn’t need to ask you for yours; he just said not to worry about it. 

After a good thirty seconds of your pen lingering above the paper, your tablet chimes.  

A split second decision has you crumpling the paper and chucking it in your bag.  You tear out a new sheet and tuck it with the pen under your tablet as you head back to Room 3.

-

You get to the room with a paper cup of water you grabbed on the way, and since you have things in both hands it’s a bit difficult getting the door open.  You try the handle but it only jiggles a bit.  One more try has you pushing the door right as the handle gives, and it works.

Jimin goes to you immediately when he sees your hands full, and you almost reel back from having him so close.  Which should be odd, since you were literally just with him for a full hour, and he was not fully clothed.  In the end, his presence alone is enough to affect you no matter the situation. 

You extend the cup to him and he grabs it with a small thank you.  

“I filled out your evaluation and it should be printed at the front already.  Make sure to drink more water after you leave,” you say with a smile, your chest heavy.  This was most likely the last interaction you would ever have with him. 

Jimin nods, his mask covering his smile but not his eyes.  He doesn’t say anything more. 

You almost leave it at that, but something in you doesn’t want this moment to end, so you take your chance. “And, umm,” you stutter as you fumble with the pen and paper.  You just lay your tablet on the massage table to free your hand, and click the pen open.  “How much should I pay you,” you ask, your gaze ironically on the very shoes you tripped over earlier. 

Jimin sets his cup down on the console table before taking the paper and pen from your hands.  You watch him write something - a price in Won most likely - as you explain, “I’m a big believer of making things right, so please let me pay for your shoes.  I should’ve seen them on the ground.”

He folds the paper and hands it back to you with the pen.  “If you insist.  But don’t check this until you get home.” 

“What, why?”  Your eyes dart to his face. 

Jimin stares at you before responding, “Nothing bad. It just might shock you.” 

Immediately, your gaze lowers.  If you tell anyone how your day went today, you would think they were weird if they believed you. If you tell anyone why you’re suddenly broke come this Wednesday, they would be lying if they just went with it.  “Okay, I won’t,” you assure him, and you’re telling the truth.  You are equal parts surprised and nervous that he’s allowing you to pay him back. 

With a deep breath, you give Jimin your best soft smile.  Your heart is hurting as you send him off, “Well, it was a pleasure.  Have a great rest of your day, Jimin.  Until next time.”  You catch yourself in a sea of emotion as your words die on your tongue.  The boys have schedules on schedules, so the likelihood of him stepping foot inside this wellness center again is minuscule at best.    

If anything, you’re grateful that you get to address him by name, and you succeeded in making this as smooth and safe as possible for him.  At the expense of a scraped nose and hand, but rather you than him.  

Jimin hoists his bag on his shoulder, the water cup you gave him already in the trash bin.  He walks right up to you and stands there, and you swear both of you can hear your heart beating.  One of his hands comes up to his masked face, and he speaks softly as he advises, “Ointment will help your nose if it still hurts.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest and cascades all the way to your fingertips.  Mirroring him, you bring a hand up to your nose and nod.  Your words tumble out, “Oh, yes, you’re right.  I can check if we have any in the back.”  

Satisfied, Jimin nods.  “Until next time,” he offers, his eyes creased and warm. 

You smile again and bow slightly.  He puts on his shades before heading out the door frame and into the hall, and you feel emptiness in his wake.  The world is fuzzy around your vision and you are trying so hard to commit everything that just happened to memory.  

Until the doors to front reception close, you watch Jimin’s retreating back.  When the frosted doors close shut, you close your own door to Room 3 and lean against the wooden frame.  The scrap of paper is creased in your hand as you clutch it to your hammering chest.  

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.  It takes a good minute for you to compose yourself before pushing off the door and getting the room stripped and ready for the next session.  The whole time, you replay everything in your head.  

Jimin was just as nice as you have seen him through the lens of cameras.  If that was the case, all of them had to be the same way.  You are proud to like these wonderful people.  

You’re so happy you got to actually spend all this time with him, but that just magnifies the sadness you feel when it’s over. 

-

The room is done and cleaned up, and you go through the rest of the day on autopilot.  Not even Jay’s constant teasing could free you from your euphoria-numbed state.  The only thing that throws you back into focus is Yoon, and it happens at the very end of the work day.  

You push open the doors to front reception, and smile big at your friend behind the counter.  She’s beaming right back at you, and she puts her chin in her hand and shakes her head. 

“That must’ve been one hell of a message,” she says through a barely contained smile.  

Your hand flies to your forehead and you nod.  “I can’t believe that happened, Yoon.  I mean, it was really him.  Opportunity of a lifetime… I just hope he enjoyed the whole thing.” 

“You could say that,” she chuckles, “Enough to book you again, at least.” 

What?

“He did?” Your breath leaves you in a rush.  “If you’re joking with me, I’ll--” 

“--He did.  It’s not for a long time, but he asked for you specifically.”  Yoon gathers papers in her hand and starts to organize them in the containers behind her.  “You really piss me off, you know that?” 

“Love you, too,” you whisper, your head completely above the clouds.  You grab your phone and start checking your schedule from the wellness center app you have installed.  Grabbing the door handle, you absentmindedly wave back to Yoon and call out, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

The sun emits a golden glow at this hour, and the glass buildings along the street bask in its shine.  You head towards your bus stop while skimming your calendar for Jimin’s next appointment, but you’re already four months out and see nothing.  Not losing hope, you keep going and see a booking six months in advance.  Your heartbeat skips as you click on the appointment, and almost skids to a halt when you see his name written down.

-

As soon as you enter your small apartment, you head straight to your bed and drop your bag on the comforter.  Your whole body bounces as you plop yourself down next, and you stare straight at the ceiling.  

Your life is still normal, right?  Sure, you were able to spend an entire hour with Park Jimin, but that didn’t mean you aren’t still completely and utterly average.  

You close your eyes and go back to Room 3.  The scent of lavender fills your nostrils and you can still see his number tattoo as plain as day as you massage his wrist.  

In all honesty, it still feels like a fever dream.  That was someone else’s life you were able to live, someone else there with Jimin and you just decided to hitch along for the ride.  

But that was real, and so is the amount of money you still need to withdraw from your bank account.  

With a sigh, you reach into your bag and take out the piece of paper.  You were dreading this moment all day since he left.  Unfolding it, you prepare for the worst. 

But all you can do is stare.  

Jimin didn’t write down a price at all. 

Your name is at the top, and the rest is as follows:

Save your money for traveling and learning new things, not on me. I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned when we meet again.

-

-

a/n: thank you for reading! if you guys have any comments or feedback, please feel free to let me know!

#text #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #bts fics #jimin fics #room 3 jimin #room 3 #ryen writes #member: jimin #long post #grammy nominated singer fic!! #ryenwrites