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sturnioz · 4 months ago

Text

‘ESPRESSO’ — MATT STURNIOLO

pairing. matt sturniolo x fem!reader genre. coffee shop au, first time au, fluff, smut

word count. 11.5k

❝I'm just happy I finally know your name... we've been calling you Espresso since your first few days of coming in❞

content warnings. explicit content, porn with heavy plot, loss of virginity (female), protected sex, soft sex, light nipple sucking, oral (female receiving), fingering, lots of kissing, mentions of nerves and anxiety, mentions of big dicks, mentions of stretching out.

"...And then he told me that he's not ready for a relationship, can you believe that? He's been treating me like his girlfriend for the past three months, we cuddle in the same bed almost every night, and he takes me out to dinner. I swear, men are just—"

You tune out the rest of the customers rant, letting the noise blur into the background as you focus on the task at hand, turning the nozzle on the coffee machine and carefully guiding the milk-filled pitcher under the steam wand. Your hand rests lightly on the cool metallic surface, waiting for the milk to warm to the perfect temperature.

Maya, your co-worker, stands beside you, leaning casually against the counter as she checks her watch for the third time in the past minute, her expression filled with boredom. When she catches your gaze, she quirks a small, kind smile your way, and you return it—brief but warm—before refocusing on your task.

Days like this are all too familiar, blending in together into an endless loop: wake up at 6am, clock in at the café around 7, overhear customers sharing their personal dramas (completely oblivious to how loud they're actually being), clean up after them, lock up at closing, and head back to your apartment to do it all over again the next morning.

You can't decide if it's comforting in a way, or just another reminder that you live what feels like a really fucking boring life. But the decent pay and the co-workers—Maya especially—make it hard to complain too much.

You detach the steam wand from the pitcher and reach for a cup, pumping three shots of vanilla syrup. You're just about to pour the heated milk when a sharp snap of fingers and an irritatingly loud whistle cuts through the air.

"Excuse me," you slowly turn to face the customer, resisting the urge to react to her dog-like call as she waves a manicured hand in your direction, her freshly painted French tips pointing at the cup in your hand. "I asked for five pumps of vanilla syrup—Five. And don't forget the extra caramel drizzle this time."

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. Instead, you force a tight-lipped smile, nodding as you turn your back, adding the extra vanilla syrup and making a show of counting to five.

You proceed to pour the steamed milk into the cup, followed by the needed espresso shots, and you finish it off with an extra drizzle of caramel sauce. Once the lid is secured and the cup sleeve is slid into place, you push the drink across the counter toward her.

She doesn't so much as glance at you as she places her card on the reader, snatches the drink, and strides out the door. You exhale sharply through your nose, shaking your head as a scowl tugs at your lips, but nonetheless, you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek and clean your station, wiping down the counter and preparing for the next customer.

Another day, another latte, another fucking difficult customer.

"If she whistled at me like a dog, I would've leaped over the counter and bitten her like one," Maya mutters beside you, and a genuine smile spreads across your face as you feel her arm wrap snugly around your middle, giving you a comforting squeeze. "I'll spit in her drink next time. Really. Just say the word, and I will do it."

You stifle a quiet laugh, amused by her threat. "As much as I would love that..." you turn your head to meet her gaze. "...I'd rather you not get fired."

Maya grins, her arms slipping away from your waist as she teases, "Who says I'd get caught? Nobody has to know."

You nudge her shoulder playfully, and she chuckles before turning her attention to the next customer. Meanwhile, you shift your focus to your own customer standing at the counter, greeting them with a warm smile as you take their order and punch the details into the tablet screen.

You're in the middle of plating up the cinnamon bun they ordered when the soft chime of the door bell catches your attention, and out of habit, you glance toward the door, your eyes landing on someone fairly new: a guy with tousled brown hair, partially hidden beneath a low baseball cap.

The brim of the cap and the hood of his oversized black jacket obscure his face, but you can still make out a few details—sharp cheekbones, and a hint of stubble along his jaw.

His outfit is simple: a white shirt and baggy denim jeans, paired with black boots that match his oversized jacket.

It's the kind of comfortable look you envy... you wish you could trade your uniform for something like that right now.

Not wanting to linger on him for too long, you finish up the order for the paying customer with a polite nod, and she thanks you kindly which prompts you into wishing her a wonderful day, earning a sweet smile in return.

As she walks away, your gaze instinctively shifts back to the guy, now standing in front of the counter. He's too preoccupied with his phone to notice he's next in line, his thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

"Can I take your order?"

"Huh? Oh—yeah, m'sorry," he mumbles, coughing lightly to clear his throat. His eyes stay fixed on his phone as he continues typing something, his voice distracted. "Can I have three iced americanos please?"

"Coming right up." you reply quietly, turning away to start the drinks. Maya steps in beside you, having finished her previous orders to offer a lending hand, and within moments, the iced drinks are ready.

Just as you place them on the counter and prepare to give him the total, he suddenly mutters under his breath, "You've got to be fuckin' playin' with me."

The irritation in his voice makes you freeze for a second, assuming his comment was directed at you. You hesitate before asking cautiously, "What?"

He looks up, startled by your response, and once he realises his mistake, he scrambles to explain. "Wait—no, shit. I uh... I wasn't talkin' to you, I was just..."

For the first time, he raises his head fully, and you can't help but try to get a better look at him. But even now, the brim of his cap and the hood of his jacket cast shadows over most of his face.

Still, you know he's staring at you—silent, unmoving—just by the weight of his gaze.

Feeling a bit shy under his gaze, you blink and glance away, fumbling to fill the silence as you press gently, "Just...?"

He snaps out of his trance, the words tumbling out in an awkward ramble. "I uh—I lost a bet with my brothers, and now I have to buy 'em drinks. I thought they'd just want whatever, but um... they're makin' it difficult 'cos they both want different drinks..."

"Oh," you respond, blinking awkwardly as you glance down at the iced americanos you've already prepared. "Well, alright... I can just make you the new—"

"No!" he interrupts, his voice sharp enough to make you pause. "Fuck—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout—these drinks are fine. Really. I'll take them. They're just idiots, probably doin' this shit on purpose or somethin', I don't know."

His exasperation pulls a light laugh out of you before you can stop yourself, and the sound seems to catch him off guard, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

After a moment, he cracks a breathy laugh of his own, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as though he's embarrassed to have made you laugh.

When you finally give him the price, he retrieves a sleek black card from his wallet and taps it on the reader, and for a second, your professional demeanour falters. He looks you, definitely younger than you'd expect from someone carrying a black card.

A flicker of curiosity passes through your mind, but you push it aside.

It's not your business, after all.

As he adjusts his hold on the cup holders, he hesitates before looking at you again. "Thanks..." his voice trails off as his gaze drops to your nametag. He reads your name softly, so quietly you almost miss it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And he does.

In fact, the days blur into weeks as he becomes a familiar presence at the café. Almost every day, he walks in and orders three drinks—sometimes iced americanos, sometimes a mix of different flavours.

With each visit, he greets you with a warm hello and dives into his usual ramblings about his brothers. His stories are always laced with fond adoration as he recounts whatever they all get up to, and through him, you've become a bit familiar with their personalities, even if you don't know exactly what it is they do.

Despite his frequent visits, he remains a mystery. You still haven't caught a proper glimpse of his full face, obscured by the cap and hood, nor have you learned his name yet.

On some days, after picking up his drinks, he settles at a specific table near the back of the café, close to the window. From his chosen spot, he seems to watch you, though he tries to appear nonchalant about it.

When you glance over, you occasionally catch the subtle twitch of his lips—like he’s trying not to smile but can’t quite help himself.

Normally, this type of odd behaviour from a customer might alarm you. But there's something about him that keeps you from feeling uneasy. If anything, you find yourself always looking forward to seeing him and wondering if he's watching you.

And, though you hate to admit it, you enjoy the attention from this stranger a lot.

"Espresso's late today," Maya remarks, her tone light as she wipes down the counter, frowning slightly at the coffee she spilled earlier.

Espresso—the nickname Maya came up with for the mystery guy—immediately grabs your attention, and you pause mid-swipe with your mop, glancing over your shoulder to survey the café.

It's quiet today, and only a few tables are occupied: a couple engrossed in their conversation, a college student hunched over a textbook, and an older woman savouring her coffee and cake.

"Maybe he's not coming," you suggest, turning back to the floor as you scrub the stubborn coffee stains. "He could be busy."

Maya straightens, tossing the damp cloth into the sink before crossing her arms, deep in thought. Her lips purse briefly before she turns her gaze to you. "Do you think he's famous or something?"

You raise an eyebrow at her out of nowhere assumption. "What makes you think that?"

She rolls her eyes, as if the answer is painfully obvious, and begins counting her reasons on her fingers. "He covers his face constantly, he won't tell you his name, he always pulls up in a blacked-out windowed car—"

"Wait, how do you know about the car?" Maya shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm attentive, okay? I notice these things. Anyways, he never says what he does, and he owns a black card. All these clued add up. Celebrity."

As she finishes her mini-investigation, you hum thoughtfully and set the mop aside, washing your hands at the sink before returning. "Do you actually care if he's famous?"

"Not really. I'm just nosy. Uncovering the secrets of suspicious people makes me feel like I'm in some kind of mystery film. It's fun."

Her words make you smile, and soon she’s off on a rant, proudly sharing her latest theories about some crime show she’s been currently recently. She tells you her predictions, and she even brags about guessing the culprit before the reveal, and you listen, amused.

But your attention is abruptly pulled elsewhere when the familiar chime of the doorbell echoes through the café.

Your gaze instinctively shifts to the entrance, and there he is—Espresso.

He steps inside, dressed in his usual style: a black hoodie, baggy denim jeans, and the black balenciaga cap pulled low over his face. Tufts of dark hair peek out from beneath the cap, and, as always, the brim and hood keeps his identity hidden.

A smile slides across your lips as he approaches, and you greet him warmly. "Hey, you're late today."

But your smile falters when you don't get the same warmth in return.

“Yeah, sorry.” he murmurs softly, his voice drawling with weariness. He doesn't raise his head to look at you, instead he shifts his focus to his wallet which he pulls out of his pocket. “Can I just get a hot chocolate, please?”

“Getting bored of the other drinks already?” you tease lightly, trying your best to engage him in conversation. But the attempt fails. He doesn't respond the way you had hoped, he just quietly taps his card against the machine and walks toward his usual table without another word.

You watch him go, a faint uneasy feeling settling in your chest. Maya catches your eye, and her puzzled expression mirrors your own. You shrug, unsure what to say as you turn to prepare the drink.

Once his hot chocolate is ready, you hesitate for a moment before deciding to do something small to—hopefully—brighten his day. Grabbing a plate, you carefully add a slice of cake, promising Maya with a quick whisper that you'll cover the cost later.

She raises an eyebrow at you but doesn't argue, and you can feel her gaze on your back as you make your way over to his table.

"Here you go," you say softly, setting the drink and plate down in front of him.

He reaches for the hot chocolate but pauses, his hand hovering mid-air as his eyes land on the slice of cake. "I... I didn't order—"

"I know," you interrupt, your tone gentle. "It's on me. You seem like you're having an off day, so..."

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. He just stares at the cake, as if he's trying to decide how to respond. Then, he slowly tilts his head back to look up at you, and you catch the slight parting of his lips before they curve into a sheepish smile.

"That's really sweet of you... thank you." his voice is softer than you expected, and it makes your heart do an unexpected little flip.

"No worries," you reply, shaking your head lightly to brush off his gratitude. "I hope you enjoy—"

"Do you, uh, think you can sit down with me?" his question catches you completely off guard, and your words falter mid sentence. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you process his request, and he quickly adds. "If you can, obviously. If you're busy, I get it. That's fine... but if you're not... that would be fine too."

You glance around at the café, taking in the calm and quiet atmosphere. It's not busy at all—just a handful of customers scattered at their tables. When your gaze shifts to Maya, you find her already watching you, gesturing animatedly as she encourages you to take the invitation.

She even redirects your boss, who's just emerged from the back, sending them back into the office with a distraction.

Collecting your thoughts, you respond. "I can sit with you for a couple of minutes."

His shoulders visibly relax at your answer as you grab a chair and slide into the seat across from him, tucking yourself beneath the small table. You're about to ask if he's okay, if he'd like to talk about his clearly hard day, when his next action leaves you completely speechless.

Without a word, he pulls down his hood and tugs off his cap, running his fingers through his hair. and all you can do is stare, your breath catching in your throat.

His face is... gorgeous.

Messy strands of slightly grown-out hair frame his features. Strong cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and those eyes—bright and piercing. He's even more attractive than you imagined, and the realisation sends your heart pounding rapidly in your chest, warmth spreading across your face.

"My name is Matt, by the way," he says, breaking the silence as he picks up the mug of hot chocolate and takes a small sip. Matt. The name repeats in your mind, and you can't help but think how fitting it feels for him. "M'sorry for not introducin' myself before. I wasn't trying to be, like, rude or anythin'... I just can't do that sometimes."

You blink, trying to gather your thoughts, but it's hard to form a coherent response when all you can think about is how his voice fits him as well as his name. But then, his last words replay in your head, tugging at your curiosity.

Your eyebrows knit together as confusion settles in, "You can't do that?"

Matt's expression shifts, surprise flicking around his face as his gaze meets yours. "Do... do you not know me?" You stare at him, unsure of what he means, your silence prompting him to quickly clarify. "I'm not being narcissistic, I swear. I'm a youtuber—content creator, whatever you wanna call it. I just... I get nervous about being recognised, s'all."

"Oh." you hum softly in understanding. Maya's earlier theory about him being someone famous suddenly clicks into place, and you can't help but mentally applaud her for her observational skills. Slowly, you nod before continuing, "That makes sense. But it's fine—you're fine. I'm just happy I finally know your name... we've been calling you Espresso since your first few days of coming in."

Matt's expression softens, his lips curving into a gentle smile. "You talk about me?"

The question catches you off guard, and you swallow thickly, suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't say that."

His smile grows and hums in response, staring at you over the rim of his cup as he takes another sip of his drink, the action slow and deliberate. The weight of his gaze makes your heart stutter, and you quickly avert your eyes, shifting your focus elsewhere in an attempt to push away the flustered feeling rising in your chest.

Don't act like this, you scold yourself silently. You need to stop being weird. He's just a regular guy.

But deep down, you know that's not entirely true. There's something about Matt—his easy smile, the way he seems both shy and confident at the same time—that makes you feel things you can't quite name.

Your fingers fidget against the edge of the table, and a quiet thought sneaks its way into your mind, one you try desperately to ignore.

You don't have a crush on Matt already.

Of course you don't.

There's no way.

Right?

You decide to steer the conversation in a different direction, leaning back in your chair in an attempt to appear as casual as possible. "So, what's wrong? Why do you seem so tired today?"

"Just constantly busy, and I, uh... got into an argument with my brothers. It was over something so stupid, but I think it got to me 'cos I'm so tired," Matt explains to you, and you instantly feel a pang of sympathy for him. "But it's fine. I know everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

"You should've stayed home and gotten some rest instead of coming here," you chastise lightly, your tone soft enough to show you're not actually upset with his decision.

"I like it here too much," Matt counters, shaking his head as he picks up the fork provided with the cake. He cuts a piece from the corner, bringing it to his mouth, and his next works are barely audible—almost as if he didn't mean for you to hear them. "I like seein' you."

Oh.

The quiet confession catches you by surprise, and you feel the familiar warmth of flusteredness creeping up your neck. Your hand instinctively rises to rub your jaw, a weak attempt to hide the shy smile tugging at your lips.

You can't help but feel baffled by how easily Matt seems to jump between awkwardness and boldness, leaving you unsure how to respond in moments like this. Does he have any idea what his words do to you?

You glance at him briefly, watching as he nonchalantly cuts another piece of cake. He hums softly in approval of the taste, seemingly enjoying it, and you shake your head with an airy laugh, catching his attention.

His gaze shifts toward you, gesturing to the cake. "Have you tried it before?"

"Not yet," you admit, a smile gracing your lips. "It's a homemade recipe. One of my co-workers made it," The image of the little old lady in her flour-covered apron and frosting-smeared cheeks comes to mind. "She loves to bake."

Matt nods thoughtfully, and then cuts another piece of cake. Instead of handing you the fork though, he keeps it in his grip, extending his arm toward you. "Here, try it."

Your eyes widen at the gesture, surprise and hesitance flooding through you. Time feels like it pauses for a moment as you process what's happening, and your gaze meets his across the table, noticing the way his teeth nibble on his bottom lip.

His expression is genuine though, and there's a slight vulnerability in the offer that makes your heart skip a beat.

After a moment, you decide to give in. Leaning forward, your hand gently wraps around his to steady the fork, and you feel him freeze at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Slowly, you open your mouth to accept the bite, ready to taste the flavour.

But before you can indulge, the moment is abruptly shattered by the loud call of your name.

Startled, you pull back, breaking the connection before the two of you, and Matt lowers the fork quickly, his hand retreating as if the interruption had startled him just as much.

Standing at the counter, your boss watches with his arms folded over his chest, a look of amusement dancing across his features. Maya stands just behind him, her expression apologetic for ruining your moment.

"What're you doing?" your boss asks, one eyebrow raised. His tone is teasing, though it's firm enough to remind you you're on the clock. "Stop flirting with your boyfriend, kid. You're on work hours."

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to come up with a response, but nothing comes out. Embarrassment washes over you like a tidal wave, and you completely forget you're with Matt as you stand up abruptly, rushing over to your boss and all but shove him into the backroom.

"Hey—what—" he starts, but you cut him off with a rapid string of apologies for pushing him, laced with muttered curse words for his earlier assumption about yours and Matt's relationship.

"I wasn't flirting—and he's not my boyfriend! Why would you say that?!" you hiss under your breath, mortification burning hot. You groan, pressing your palms to your face as you spiral into a ramble. "Oh my god. That was embarrassing. I can't believe you said that. What do I do now? I can't—"

Your anxious rambling is cut off by your boss' deep, amused laugh. "He was feedin' you. What else was I supposed to think?"

From the side, Maya nods with an exaggerated agreement. "That was such a boyfriend move..."

Your boss places a hand on your shoulder, his expression softening slightly. "Look, I am sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. But maybe next time, don't let it happen during work hours, yeah? I already let you two get away with too much—"

"Well that's a fucking lie," Maya cuts in, her brows knitting together as she glares at him. Your boss snorts but doesn't respond, walking back out to the front with a shake of his head. Once he's gone, Maya steps closer to you with an apologetic look. "I tried to distract him for as long as I could, but he caught on pretty quick. At least it seemed like you and Espresso were getting along well?"

"His name is Matt," you tell her as you lower your hands from your cheeks. Her eyebrows shoot up, but before she can say anything, you groan again, pressing your fingers to your temples and rubbing in slow circles. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm gonna have to quit and, like, move away or something."

"Hey, being dramatic is my job," Maya teases as she pinches your arm lightly. "But you got his name though, that's progress."

You hesitate for a moment before adding, "I.. saw his face too."

Maya's eyes widen, her curiosity peaked. "You did? I couldn't see—he looked away and pulled up his hood right after your name was called..." she pauses, narrowing her eyes at you with a knowing smirk. "So? Was he hot?"

You meet her gaze, dead serious. "You have no idea."

After a few minutes of calming yourself down, you finally gather the courage to return to the front of the café, but when you glance toward Matt's table, your heart sinks.

It's empty.

The sight of the vacant chair and cleared space stirs an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You assume he must've left after your boss' comment, feeling awkward and embarrassed. And really, you can't blame him. If the roles were reserved, you'd probably book it out of here as fast as you could too.

You try to shake it off, forcing yourself to focus on work. You clean up the tables, preparing the café for closing, but you deliberately leave Matt's table for last. You know it's silly—prolonging it won't change anything—but you can't help it.

When you finally approach the table, you swallow thickly, frowning as you take in the empty cup and plate. You pick them up and place them on your tray, but as you move, something catches your eye.

A napkin, crumpled slightly from hiding beneath the plate.

You set the tray down and reach for it, your heart starting to race as you unfold it. Scrawled across the napkin in slightly messy handwriting are the words that instantly bring a smile to your face:

𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 (555) 555-555 - 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍/𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈/’𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’

You ended up calling him when you got home from work that day. At first, you were nervous, your thumb hovering over the call button for longer than you'd like to ever admit.

And before you knew it, those phone calls became an important part of your routine. Almost every night, you'd find yourself laughing until your sides hurt, smiling until your cheeks were sore, and discovering little pieces of Matt you'd never known before.

He told you even more about his family—especially his brothers with their inside jokes—and he shared stories about his Youtube career: his struggles with burnout, and the moments that made it all worth it.

And in turn, you opened up to him too.

You told him everything.

To avoid causing any more trouble with your boss, Matt started visiting you during your breaks instead of sitting at a table on your shift, keeping you company whenever you both had a free moment in your schedules.

It didn't take long for him to become a familiar face around the café either. Your co-workers grew fond of him quite quickly, and the old lady baker immediately adored him when he kindly complimented her on her delicious recipes—and she even allowed him to taste-test her newest ones before anyone else.

You started to notice how comfortable Matt was becoming with you over time, especially when it came to physical touch.

At first, it was subtle—the way his shoulder would brush against yours when he sat close, or how his leg would press lightly to yours under the table.

Then, those small touches grew bolder.

His fingers would linger on your arm as he talked, tracing patterns on your skin, and occasionally his hand would graze yours, but neither of you would pull away.

It took you a while to get used to it, but something about Matt made it so easy to accept. His touches felt natural, like they belonged there, and a part of you started to crave them in ways you didn't fully understand.

Then, one afternoon, everything changed.

Matt had offered to drive you home after your shift, something he'd started doing more often as your 'friendship' deepened. This time though, it felt different. So different. There was tension, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken.

When he pulled up in front of your house and walked you to your doorstep, he made the first move. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks as his lips pressed against yours, soft and warm.

It happened sooner than you expected, but it felt so right—so natural.

From that moment on, kisses became a regular part of your time together. Whether it was when he drove you home from work or when you sneaked away for 'fresh air' during your breaks, his lips always seemed to find yours.

Sometimes it was quick—a stolen kiss.

Other times, it was slower—lingering, like he wanted to savour the moment just as much as you did.

And you found yourself falling for him, bit by bit, with every laugh, every touch, and every kiss.

"So, he's not your boyfriend?" Maya's voice cuts through the whirring of the coffee machine, her tone filled with disbelief as she looks over at you.

"No, he's not," you shake your head as you carefully pour the espresso into a cup.

"But you kiss all the time, and he comes to visit you here almost every single day," Maya points out, her brows knitting together as she watches you add steamed milk and froth to finish the cappuccino.

It's a valid point, one that you've thought over many—many—times.

"Yeah," you hum, steadying the cup. "But he hasn't asked me out officially, y'know?"

Maya blinks, clearly perplexed. "Why can't you ask him then?"

You pause, staring at her like she's just suggested something completely outrageous. "Me?"

"Yeah, you."

The idea of taking the initiative and asking Matt to be your boyfriend sends a wave of panic rolling through you, and you shake your head quickly. "No. No way. I can't do that. I don't even know how to do that."

Maya blinks slower, processing your response. "You just... ask."

You scoff, incredulous. "Absolutely not. I've never done anything like that before, and I'm way too awkward to start now. What if it makes me look desperate? Or what if the timing is all wrong?" you spin around to face her, completely mortified as you mutter, "What if he rejects me?"

"Okay, now you're just overthinking everything," Maya sighs, grabbing a cup and lazily filling it with ice cubes. "Look, you just need to—"

"Excuse me!"

The sharp screech of an impatient customer cuts through the air, making both of you flinch. You quickly turn around, guilt already bubbling in your chest.

"I understand you have boy problems," the woman snaps, glaring at you, "but I'm in a rush. Can you hurry it up?"

Your eyes widen as the realisation starts to hit—you've turned into one of those people. The ones who talk too loudly about their personal problems, oblivious to the world around them.

Oh fuck.

You apologise profusely as you rush to finish the customers order, handing it over with a sheepish grin. She huffs, pays, and storms off, leaving you to groan and press the heel of your palm into your eyes.

"Don't worry about it too much." Maya says, trying to reassure you, and you appreciate the attempt to calm your spiralling thoughts of the day.

You sigh, nodding slowly, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as you grab a rag to clean the counter, trying to refocus.

Maya, however, isn't done. "Matt's supposed to be visiting you on break, right? Just talk to him then. See where his head's at with all this... it's clear that he likes you as much as you like him."

You nod again, this time a little more solemnly. Deep down, you know she's right, but the thought of having that conversation still makes you stomach churn with nerves.

Forcing a polite smile onto your face, you get back to serving your customers. You try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling brewing, but it lingers, making your shift stretch on longer than usual.

It doesn't help that it seems to be one of those days either—the kind where couples seem to flood the café, all smiley and giggly, holding hands and sharing kisses.

Internally, you scowl. You know it's not fair to be so bitter about their happiness, but it's hard to stop yourself from feeling like the universe is rubbing it so carelessly in your face.

You grit your teeth as another couple approaches the counter, all lovey dovey as they order matching drinks. Seriously? .... For real? You can't help but think they're all doing this on purpose.

You know they aren't though. It's not their fault you're so frustrated and insecure. It's not their fault you're stuck in this weird position with Matt, unsure of where you stand.

They're in love—and they have every right to show it off to the world.

As the day drags on and on, you try your best to push aside the negatives thoughts swirling in your mind by focussing on your job, moving from task to task, hoping to make time fly by.

The wait isn't easy—you hate it—but you keep reassuring yourself that everything will be alright.

But, as your break finally arrives, that too familiar feeling of unease settles in your chest once again.

You find yourself sitting alone in the backroom, ten minutes into your fifteen-minute break. Your phone is sandwiched between your cheek and shoulder as you listen to Matt's voice on the other end of the call.

Your thumb instinctively finds its way to your mouth, and you bite down on your nail—a habit you've been trying to get a hold on.

“There’s been a change of plans," Matt says, his words filled with regret. "I don’t think I can come visit you right now—everythin’ is, like, super crazy and…” his voice trails off as he continues explaining, but the words blend together in the background of your mind.

He's not coming.

That feeling in your chest intensifies, and the uncomfortable churning in your stomach grows worse.

“I’m really sorry.” he says, soft and sincere.

“No, it’s fine. I get it,” you whisper, your tone a little on the vulnerable side. You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone, and you quickly add. “Seriously, it’s fine. I promise. It just… sucks, I guess.”

“I know, baby,” Matt mutters quietly, his own sadness seeping through.

The unexpected affectionate name catches you off guard, but it brings you slight comfort. Warmth spreads across your face, and despite everything, you smile to yourself shyly.

There’s some rustling on his end, and you hear him adjust the phone before his voice comes through more clearly. “I can see you later, though. I can… come over to your place, if you want.”

"My place?" you repeat, your eyes widening slightly as you sit up straighter. "You want to come over to my place?"

"Well, yeah, I mean—" he clears his throat, trying to sound more casual than he feels. "I have to film a video with my brothers and we won't be done until late, and I still really want to see you. We can have a date at yours or somethin'? I'll bring food or whatever on my way there. I'd offer you to come to mine, but—"

"My place is good," you cut him off, nodding to yourself as if to confirm it. "That's great, actually."

"Yeah?" you hear the smile in his voice, and it brings one to your own face as you hum softly in agreement. "Alright... I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay." you reply giddily.

You'd be completely lying to yourself if you said you didn't want the clock obsessively for the rest of your shift—counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could finally head home.

Spoiler: it didn't magically speed up. The numbers on the clock barely moved every time you checked.

But thankfully, after spilling the details of your plans to Maya, she offered to handle the closing-up duties so you could leave early.

At first, you protested. You didn't want to leave her to do everything alone, but her reassurance—and her reminded that she owed you for covering one of her shifts last week—finally convinced you to accept.

You couldn't say no after that.

As soon as you step out of the café, your mind starts racing with thoughts about Matt's visit. You pick up the pace, practically speed walking to the nearest store to grab some last minute treats—a box of desserts and a pack of beers—and the grocery bag bumps against your leg with each hurried step.

When you finally make it home, you waste no time in kicking off your shoes and heading straight to the kitchen to stash the desserts and beers into the fridge before taking a moment to take in your apartment.

It's not messy, but it's... definitely lived in.

The couch cushions are out of place, a throw blanket is draped over an armchair. There's a few books stacked on the side table, and your empty coffee mug still sits on the corner of the counter where you left it this morning.

You sigh, rolling up your sleeves as you get to work tidying up. You fluff the cushions, fold the blanket neatly, and wash your coffee mug and place it back in the cupboard.

Once everything looks presentable, you dart off to the bathroom to shower, eager to scrub away the sweat and lingering smell of coffee from your shift. You stand beneath the spray and lather up with vanilla scented soap before giving your hair a thorough wash—you even exfoliate—mentally checking off every step as you go.

But when you're back in your room, standing in front of your closet with a towel wrapped around your body, you freeze.

What the fuck are you supposed to wear?

Your eyes scan the rows of clothes, but nothing seems right. Is this a proper date, or just a casual hangout? You've never been in this situation before, and it's impossible to guess the right vibe to match. You don't want to be overdressed and make it awkward, but you also don't want to look like you didn't try.

"I need your help," you blurt into the phone urgently and desperately, deciding to call the best person you know that can handle this type of situation. "Bad. I need your help bad."

There's a pause before Maya's laughter comes through the line, "What are you freaking out about now?"

"I—" you hesitate, gripping the phone tighter as your eyes dart back to your closet, pushing through the hangers for the tenth time. "I have no idea what to wear. I don't know if this is a date. I've never been on a date, so I don't know what people even wear to one."

You let out a frustrated sigh, slumping back onto your heels.

"I don't want it to look like I tried too hard, but I also don't want it to look like I just rolled out of bed and don't give a fuck—"

"Hey," Maya interrupts sharply, calling out your name. "Chill out."

You immediately fall silent, clutching the phone to your ear as you wait for her words of wisdom.

"Let me break it down for you," she begins, "Matt's coming over to your place after hanging out with his brothers, right?"

"Yeah..." you reply cautiously, narrowing your eyes at a skirt in your closet that suddenly feels too much.

"So," she continues. "Do you really think he's going to show up wearing, like, a suit and tie? A button-up and chinos? No. At best, he's showing up in sweatpants and a sweater. Maybe jeans."

You purse your lips, thinking that over. "So... what do I wear then?"

"God. You're hopeless." Maya teases with a loud, dramatic sigh. "Wear something comfortable. Something cute and casual. You have clothes like that, okay? I've seen them."

You nod as if she can see you. "Cute and casual," you repeat. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. That's fine. Thank yo—"

"Wait," Maya cuts in before you can hang up. "One more thing: wear matching lingerie. That red lacy set we bought last weekend? That one."

You freeze, eyebrows furrowing as her words settle in. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you glare at it for a second before returning it to your face. "Why the hell would I need to wear that?"

"Just in case," Maya responds matter-of-factly. "You know... just in case."

"Oh," you say dumbly, blinking as the realisation hits you. "I mean... doesn't have to happen right away, does it? Like—it's not expected or anything, right?"

"Of course not" Maya answers instantly to reassure you. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But if the mood is right, at least you'll be prepared. Trust me."

After hanging up, you toss your phone onto the bed and take a moment to collect yourself. Maya's advice repeats in your head as you pull open your dresser drawer, digging out the red lingerie set. It's still neatly folded in the box it came in—the tags still attached.

You hesitate for a moment, then shrug to yourself. At least you'll be prepared. Once you've slipped into the lingerie, you pull on your favourite shirt and jeans—soft, well worn, and flattering in all the right ways. You take a step back to check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the fabric over your hips.

A touch of mascara, a swipe of lip gloss, a hint of blush and highlighter, and a quick spritz of perfume completes the look.

You're double checking your outfit and makeup when a knock beats on the front door, and your stomach flips. You abruptly move, nearly knocking over the vanity chair in your rush as you smooth out your shirt for the hundredth time, sock covered feet padding across the floorboards as you make your way to the front door.

With a deep breath, you unlock the door and swing it open, and instantly, any lingering anxiety melts away. There Matt stands, his signature black cap pulled low over messy hair, dressed in an oversized sweater and denim jeans.

He smiles at you—a soft, lopsided grin—before shuffling inside after you step aside, his sneakers scuffing lightly against the floor as he toes them off.

You open your mouth to speak, to welcome him into your home, but the words catch in the back of your throat as Matt doesn't even give you a chance. He drops the takeout bag to the floor with a soft thud, and his ringed fingers wrap gently around your wrist, tugging you closer.

A giddy smile spreads across your face as his cold palms cup the warmth of your cheeks, his gaze softening as his lips brush against yours—gentle and so sweet.

He exhales a deep sigh of contentment when you kiss him back, and your hands reach to grip the soft fabric of his sweater to pull him close. But Matt doesn't linger long on your lips, instead, he pulls back just enough to trail quick, playful kisses across your cheeks, nose, and forehead.

Each kiss lands with an over exaggerated smooch, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles up from your chest.

"Matt," you try to speak between giggles. "Stop, you're—"

"No," he murmurs, pressing another smacking kiss to your lips. "Missed you too much... sorry I couldn't come earlier."

You smile softly, your heart swelling as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands still resting on his chest. Gently, you shake your head. "You're here now, right?"

Matt's grin widens, and he bends down to pick up the takeout bag from the floor, straightening up before stepping further into your home.

His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the details—the mismatched furniture, the framed photos on the walls, the soft glow of string lights draped across the windows, and the potted plants perched on the sills.

You shift your weight nervously, watching him take it all in with a flicker of self-consciousness, especially when his eyes linger on the shelf filled with books and little trinkets that probably look a bit chaotic to anyone but you.

"This is a nice place," he says finally, his voice warm and sincere as his eyes meet yours again. "Cosy."

"Thank you," you reply with a soft laugh, swaying lightly on the balls of your feet. "I would've invited you in sooner, but... it never seemed like the right time."

"That's okay," Matt says with a casual shrug. Then, he raises the takeout bag between you, giving it a little shake. "Hungry?"

As if on cue, your stomach growls loudly, causing you to sheepishly smile. "Starving."

It doesn't take long before the two of you settle comfortably on the couch, the food spread out on the coffee table in front of you. A movie plays on the TV—something you both agreed on watching—but as the minutes pass, it becomes background noise.

Matt's attention drifts to you, and soon he's asking about your day—showing genuine interest, listening to you talk as you recount the small details of your daily routine. He even teases you, his grin widening as he asks if you've spilled any more drinks during your shift.

You did that once—maybe twice.

He never lets you forget it. When the conversation shifts and it's your turn to ask him about his day, Matt's expression brightens. The way his eyes light up as he talks about filming with his brothers and brainstorming new ideas makes your chest ache in the best day, and you listen attentively as he rambles, soaking in the passion behind his words.

But then, his tone dips slightly, and he mentions feeling mentally drained—exhausted, even. The confession is so subtle, but it sticks with you as you remind him to take breaks and to focus more on his mental health, but he waves a hand dismissively, brushing off your worry.

You're about to push further, but before you can, Matt reaches for his phone, his energy shifting again as he tells you he wants to show you what he and his brothers have been doing and planning.

He scoots close, the warmth of his shoulder pressing against yours as he pulls up the photos and videos on his camera roll, explaining every detail behind each one. But your ears perk up when another voice cuts through in one of the videos Matt plays, a familiar one that belongs to one of his brothers.

"What are you doin'?" Chris' voice asks, and a second later, he comically slides into frame, his bright blue eyes staring directly into the camera lens, one brow raised in suspicion.

"Filmin' the sunset," Matt mumbles, the camera shaking slightly as Chris steps closer. "Dude, what're you—"

"Is this for your girlfriend?" Chris interrupts, practically shoving his face into view as he wiggles his eyebrows dramatically.

"Yeah," Matt huffs, trying to push Chris out of the shot. "Move."

"Take a video of me. I'm the view now."

"What? No," Matt snaps, scoffing. The camera lowers slightly, but not before you catch Nick in the background, fake gaggling loudly as a muttered, "You're fuckin' insane. Get away—" from Matt is the last thing you hear before the video cuts off.

As the video ends, you find yourself frozen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Slowly, your eyes drift from the phone to Matt's face. He's smiling at you—so softly, so fucking prettily—clearly waiting for your thoughts on the videos he just shared.

But your mind is stuck on one thing.

"Girlfriend?" The word slips out before you can stop it, your voice quiet, almost hesitant. "Do... do you call me your girlfriend in front of your brothers?"

"Yeah," he says without hesitation, his eyebrows pulling together in slight confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You never asked," you whisper. You glance down, suddenly feeling embarrassed under his gaze. "I mean... it was never really talked about. We didn't put a label on anything."

Matt lets out a light laugh, scratching the back of his neck as if he's realising it for the first time.

"I kinda assumed we were together," he tells you. "I mean, I don't really see someone almost every day, kiss them, drive them home, and just call them a 'friend'," his cheeks grow a little flushed. "Like, I'd only do that with someone who's my girl."

You can't fight the smile that breaks across your face, and Matt notices it too, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin in a way that makes your heart flutter.

"Guess I should've asked though, hm?" he murmurs, his voice dropping to a softer tone as his thumb gently brushes over your bottom lip. His eyes lock with yours, tilting his head to the side. "Made it official?" he then leans in, his breath warm against your face. "Will you be my girlfriend? Or... is it too late?"

"Never too late."

Matt grins, and before you can say anything else, he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that feels softer and sweeter than any before. His touch is so gentle, and you can't help but exhale deeply as you melt into him.

Kissing Matt is one thing, but kissing Matt who is your boyfriend? That was something else entirely. It feels new—exciting.

But then, as his hand dips beneath your shirt, his palm pressing lightly against the bare skin of your waist, something feels… different. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s unfamiliar, and you find yourself pulling back slightly, your breathing ragged as you meet his gaze with an embarrassed, sheepish grin.

"You alright?" Matt asks immediately, concern etched into his expression. His thumb brushes over your hip, his touch grounding and gentle.

"No—yeah, yes. Everything is fine—great," you ramble with a nervous laugh, trying to collect yourself under Matt's worried gaze. His brow furrows as you scramble to explain yourself, but you decide to surrender and tell him the truth as your shoulders slump. "This is all new to me. I've never had this."

Matt blinks, then tilts his head, raising a brow. "Had a boyfriend?"

"No—well yeah, but," you shake your head with a small laugh and a shy smile. "I'm talking about sex... I've never done that before. I've never, like... been interested, you know?"

"Oh," he mumbles softly, pulling his hand carefully out from beneath your shirt. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No!" you rush to cut him off, your hands curling around his wrists to stop him. "You didn't make me uncomfortable, if that's what you're wondering," you exhale shakily, trying your best to put your feelings into words. "I've never been interested in it before, but with you... I am."

Matt’s eyes widen slightly, his expression shifting to something almost unreadable—surprised, maybe even a little emotional. His hands find their way back to your hips, his grip gentle but grounding as his thumbs brush against your sides.

"Really?" he asks softly.

You nod, your heart beating faster. You want him to understand that this is all new territory for you, but it's something that you want to share with him—to give a part of yourself to someone who truly likes you just as much as you like him.

Matt studies you for a moment, his gaze darting across your face as if he's memorising all your little details. His eyes linger on your lips, noticing how they part slightly, how your tongue nervously darts out to wet your bottom lip.

"Relax," he murmurs, his voice trying to soothe you as he inches closer. "You're tremblin'."

"I'm nervous," you admit in a whisper.

"It's alright," he reassures you as his fingers gently tilt your chin up, his touch featherlight as he strokes your bottom lip. "I got you. We'll go slow."

"Slow," you echo, nodding. "Slow is good."

A soft smile tugs at Matt's lips as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead first, then your nose, before finally dipping down to press his lips to yours once again. Your eyes flutter shut as you melt into his touch, feeling the way his mouth moves against yours.

When you part your lips, a soft gasp escapes you as Matt deepens the kiss, his tongue flattening against yours as it enters your mouth, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You press your hand to his chest again, right over his hammering heartbeat as your fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater.

Matt breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he mumbles, "Where's your room?"

Your throat suddenly feels dry, and it takes a moment to gather yourself as you swallow hard, your voice coming out a little hoarse. "Down the hall, first door on the left."

Matt nods, kissing your lips one last time before he rises from the couch, pulling you up with him. His fingers intertwine with yours, his grip firm as the two of you move quietly down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps soft on the wooden flooring.

When you step into the room, Matt's eyes sweep over the space briefly before settling back on you. He doesn't rush you or push you, instead, he just takes a step closer, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone as his eyes search yours, silently asking for permission.

You give him a short nod, and in an instant, his lips mould with yours in a deep, but slow kiss. You kiss him back timidly, looping your arms around his shoulders for your fingers to curl at the hairs on the nape of his neck, while he wraps his around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

He blindly walks you backwards, the backs of your knees hitting the edge of the bed and you drop down, causing Matt to follow closely behind. He straddles you, knees on each side of your hips, keeping his lips locked on yours as his hands trail down your body, his fingers lightly gripping the hem of your shirt.

The kiss breaks for him to gently pull your shirt over your head, and his eyes—blown out and wide—stare down at your chest, all prettied up in the red, lacy bra you put on earlier. He lets out a long, drawn out shaky exhale, rubbing his thumb across the material as his eyes flit up to yours.

“Beautiful,” he compliments, and you immediately grow shy and flustered, unable to properly meet his gaze as he chuckles softly, sliding his hands beneath your back to reach for the clasp.

Your brows raise in surprise at how quick and easy it is for him to unclasp your bra, and the lacy falls from your skin, baring your naked chest to his gaze. He gives you a gentle smile, giving your lips a loving kiss before moving downwards, sucking a trail of hickeys from your neck, to your collarbones, down to your breasts.

Matt cups the plumpy skin in his palms, squeezing softly while his lips wrap around your nipple. You gasp softly at the sensation, feeling the nub harden in his mouth as he licks and suckles. He gives attention to your other nipple too, and your back arches at the touch, breath stuttering as you tilt your head back against the pillows.

However, your breathing grows ragged with nerves as he starts moving south again, almost choking when he gets to your legs. The nerves start to creep back into your system as you watch him unbutton your jeans while he keeps his eyes on yours, giving you a reassuring smile as he pulls the material down your jeans, pressing open mouth kisses to the skin that he reveals.

Your first instinct is to pull away when you become aware of how extremely close he is to your damp panties—not used to someone being so up close and personal to such an intimate place—but he soothingly strokes your thighs in hopes to relax you, massaging his fingers into the plush skin.

"Matt," you murmur anxiously as you feel his nose against your panties as he inhales deeply, letting out a soft sound at the intoxicating scent of your obvious arousal.

Your face heats up in embarrassment at the sight of him between your thighs, and you fidget, hips shifting against the bed sheets as he hooks his fingers beneath the lace, pulling them down your legs to join your other clothes on the floor—leaving you naked and vulnerable.

"You still want to do this?" Matt asks you, pressing open mouth kisses to your thighs as he eyes the glistening folds of your pussy before his gaze drifts up your body, drinking you in. He meets your eyes, laying another kiss on your skin. "We can stop. It’s your choice."

You’re quiet for a moment, unable to think properly over the loud sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You’re nervous, of course. You’ve never experienced something like this before—something so intimate and raw. Nobody has been this close to you, and nobody has ever touched you the way he’s been currently doing.

But you want this.

You do want this.

You want this with him.

"Please keep going." you confirm, and in that moment, you feel his warm breath caress your skin as he leans closer, his mouth pressing over your clit.

Your body tenses up at the foreign sensation, and your thighs almost close in around his head in an attempt to push him away, but the feeling of his tongue slowly wedging between your wet folds, gently lapping over your slit, makes you crumble.

You’re unable to put how you feel into words as your body slumps on the bed, lips parting with short, airy gasps as you stare up at the ceiling, your fingers twisting in your bedsheets. Matt’s mouth remains latched onto you, alternating between tender kitten licks and suckles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

It’s difficult for you to think straight—so fucking difficult that all you can do is just lay there and take it.

Matt curls his arms around your thighs, moaning softly into your cunt and you gasp at the vibrations. You don’t know what your body is doing, but it moves as if it’s on autopilot, rolling against his face as that knot in your stomach tightens, and tightens, and tightens.

"That’s it," he murmurs between your folds. "Keep movin’. You’re gettin’ close."

"H-how can you tell?" you ask him breathlessly.

Matt smiles, peering up at you through hooded lids, "I can feel it, baby. You're leakin' so much around my tongue."

You whine pathetically at that, and your eyes roll back and your neck strains as Matt’s tongue dips inside of you—the pressure and pleasure becoming too much for your inexperienced body to handle that you can’t help but release whatever tension coils up in your stomach.

Matt hums in approval, squeezing your thighs in a reassuring manner as he laps up your essence, delicately helping you ride out your orgasm with tentative licks. Once Matt finally lets up, you feel yourself grow limp, trying your hardest to catch your breath as you watch him move up your body through hazy vision.

"Good job," he praises you lightly, stroking your cheek with a tender touch. “You did so well."

All you can muster is a tired, sheepish smile, melting against his touch for a moment until it’s moved away too quickly for your liking. You can feel a whine of protest bubbling up in your throat, but you manage to keep it at bay as you watch Matt lean back on his knees, bunching his sweater in his hands before he pulls it over his head, throwing it carelessly to the side.

You take this moment to admire him with the best of your ability: his messy hair hangs just above his eyes, his lips puffy and wet—glistening with your arousal. His body is slim, and you have the sudden urge to run your hands up his tummy and over his chest to curl your fingers around the silver necklace that dangles from his neck, but you’re caught off guard by the sound of metal clanging, and you glance down to see his hands working open his belt.

Matt rids himself of his jeans quite quickly, leaving him in just his boxers. The sight of his cock straining against the white material of his Calvin Klein's has your stomach whirling, and you begin to worry if something of that size will even fit inside of you.

You do avert your eyes when his fingers grip the waistband of his boxers to pull them off, although you can’t look away for too long. You’re curious, and curiosity definitely kills the cat because when you see his cock—big, heavy, laying against his tummy up to his belly button—you know you’re in trouble.

That’s not going to fit.

Silence consumes you, your mouth dry and nerves shot. All you can do is watch him lean off the bed to reach for his jeans on the ground, digging his hand into the pockets to retrieve a small silver packet. He tears it open with his teeth with ease, throwing the empty packet onto your nightstand before pinching the tip of the condom to roll it onto his cock, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

"Did—" you try to find your voice, coughing to clear your throat when it comes out a little rough. "Did you expect this to happen? You were prepared?"

"I didn’t expect it," Matt tells you, his tone filled with honesty and sincerity as he adjusts the rubber, making sure that it was fitted securely. "But it’s always good to be prepared, right?"

Maya’s words from the phone call earlier linger in your mind; ‘it’s good to be prepared, just in case’. You didn’t realise how much that actually applied, and all you can do is dumbly nod your head in response as Matt shuffles forward on his knees, prying your thighs further apart.

You twitch when you feel his fingers gently graze over your sensitive pussy, using his thumbs to pull at your folds, revealing your leaky hole to his gaze. You definitely look away now—trying to not think about how exposed you are to him, literally.

"M’gonna have to stretch you out a little," Matt tells you, and you want to question what he means by that until you wince at the stretch of his finger pushing through the tightness of your entrance, causing tears to bubble in your eyes. "Sorry, baby. It’s okay, s’okay—breathe."

You tense up when Matt adds another one of his fingers, trying your best to focus on his soothing voice when he tells you to relax, and he stills, his fingers still buried deep inside of you as his other hand massages your thigh in gentle motions.

You wriggle, finding it difficult to adjust to the stretch of his fingers as he carefully pumps in and out of your pussy, scissoring them against your gummy walls that makes your thighs twitch and close around his wrist. He continues to quietly praise you throughout, even pressing his thumb to your clit to rub, the pleasurable sensation of your clit getting attention causing you to relax just a bit.

“There we go,” he coos, nodding his head as he watches you. “Relax.”

The wet sounds filling the room is dirty, and you’re embarrassed to know that it’s coming from you. You are wet, and you’re definitely turned on despite being such a nervous wreck, but you didn’t realise you’re this wet.

Matt seems to be fine with it, which makes you feel a little bit better.

It’s normal.

It’s natural.

It’s fine.

You’re unsure on how long Matt has been fingering you for, but you assume it was enough to have you stretched out as he pulls his fingers away from your pussy, surprisingly licking them clean as he hovers above you.

You reach to grab his shoulders while he touches himself, rubbing his cock up and down your sticky folds to lather up your arousal. Matt stares at you, tilting his head to the side as he drinks in your expression.

“You ready?” He presses his tip to your entrance as he aligns himself. Anxiety and nerves courses through your veins, knowing what was about to come, but you’re more than ready—ready to have him in any way you possibly can.

“I’m ready.”

With that, he presses himself into you, slow and steady. The gentleness doesn’t stop you from crying out, your nails digging into his shoulder blades, creating indents in his skin as your cunt and thighs burn from your pressure.

The pain and discomfort is intense, and it hurts much more than you anticipated—the unfamiliar sensation being stretched out and filled making you wince. Matt pauses his hips to give you time to adjust to his size, wrapping his arms around you and kissing away the tears that pool down your cheeks.

“You’re doin’ great, sweetheart,” he attempts to soothe you, his body locked as he glances down to where you’re both barely connected. Only the tip of his cock is nestled inside your opening, and he nibbles down on his bottom lip, knowing this was going to be trickier. “You’re okay, I promise.”

The burn intensifies as Matt begins to inch deeper in, each movement jolts of hot pain through your tender flesh. You have never felt like this in your life, but you’re happy to feel the searing pain gradually give way to a dull ache, which soon turns into a strange, tingling sensation as his hips rock carefully into you.

His steady rhythm and soothing caresses help calm your nerves, and you can feel every ridge and vein of Matt’s cock rub against your tender walls. His hands roam your body, kneading the fat of your hips, stroking up your stomach and breasts, brushing his fingers across your cheeks to wipe away the tears.

Each touch relaxes you further and further, drawing you into the experience, and you’re finally able to wrap your legs around Matt’s waist loosely, feeling him roll his hips deeper against yours. The friction between you both causes you to feel a little stuffy, skin clammy with sweat, but you still refuse to loosen your grip on him—keeping him as close to you as possible.

“Look at you… you’re doin’ so well for me,” Matt continues to praise you with each thrust, his breathing laboured.

You let out a quiet moan, it echoing throughout the room, and the sound of giving in makes Matt press his lips to yours, swallowing the rest of your moans as his cock and tongue work together in motion.

You feel so dizzy, head cloudy and empty as he rocks against you, his pelvis rubbing against your poor clit, the friction making your pussy quiver around him, earning a throaty groan from him, the sound rumbling against your lips.

Breaking the kiss, Matt trails his move along the column of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he continues to thrust, and you arch into him a little, your nails lightly raking down his back as you tilt your head to give him better access.

His tongue darts out to lap at the pulse point in your throat before he kisses and nibbles his way back up to your ear, his voice low and strained as he murmurs, “M’gettin’ close,” his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he fights to maintain his control. “Not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Your body tenses, a whiney noise escaping as the sensations swell up inside you, the familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach forming until you can no longer contain yourself. Your inner muscles clench around Matt’s cock, rhythmically squeezing around him as your second orgasm crashes over you abruptly.

At the same moment, Matt's control shatters, and with a grunt, he buries himself to the hilt inside your cunt and trembles, spilling into the condom with long, hot spurts. His hips stutter, making you wince and mewl at the feeling, but once both of your tremors subside, Matt lays on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

It’s hot, and you’re still all sticky and clammy—definitely more than before—but you don’t care, not when Matt nuzzles his face into the crevice of your neck, his lips brushing against your damp skin as he catches his breath.

After a while, he carefully extracts himself from you, pulling out of your wet cunt, and you hiss at the feeling, thighs pressing together to close as Matt stands from the bed. He pulls the condom off, careful not to spill any of his cum across your carpet as he walks into your bathroom to discard it in the trash.

He comes back seconds later, climbing into the bed beside you, pulling you close to cradle you against his body. You immediately nestle into his embrace, your cheek laying on his chest and peering up at him as his hand lazily drifts across your back, alternating between rubbing and drawing random patterns.

“Was that okay?” Matt asks you, his voice soft and quiet.

You smile shyly and nod your head in response, draping your arms around his waist to pull him even closer as his head drops down to place a kiss atop of yours, squeezing you tenderly.

It was perfect.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut #©sturnioz

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lystopianne · 3 months ago

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Business & Retail themed cc list

with the highly anticipated release of businesses & hobbies, I gotta say: opportunity taken to make a cc masterlist, yay! I love making those!

small (family) businesses is a huge add-on to our gameplay and with custom content, the fun will never go away. 🥰 everything from essential mods, shopping decor & specific-themed businesses items are to be found here.

feel free to send any suggestions for the list, I'll be happy to add them!

*NEW UPDATES WILL BE MADE ON THIS PAGE*

ESSENTIALS

miunachan's ultimate list of business ideas 🧡

mods

cheat retail & restaurant prices

club & business activity expanded

club & business expanded interactions

functional registers

higher business activity limit

more selectable icons

more small business employees

more small business logos

more small business visitors

no autonomous dancing

sell stuff from any surfaces

small business do not close

tend stalls activity expanded

decor & display

business essentials x @soloriya

industrial inventory shelves x @brazenlotus

retail therapy set x @syboubou

shopping bags & box x @aroundthesims

simoleons decor set x @simdertalia

tip jars x @simdertalia

signs & stickers

backlit wall signs x @gfvsims

business sign decals x @cryptiam

credit card stickers x @ccbybudgie

convenience store ads x @cryptiam

fire department stickers x @ccbybudgie

gift shop neons x @simdertalia

lit up ads on wheels x @ccbybudgie

lit wall advertisements x @brazenlotus

open led sign decals x @cryptiam

sale & ad posters x @simdertalia

security sign decals x @cryptiam

shop ads x @ccbybudgie

THEMED SPECIFICS

animals & pets

aquarium retail display fridge x @brazenlotus

besties: part 1 & part 2 x @sixamcc

pet pack wall frames x @brazenlotus

art & crafts

art studio x @sixamcc

flower arrangement display x @brazenlotus

hobby knit x @helenmay

piano cc set x @syboubou

tattoo wall art x @ccbybudgie

daycare & kids

boho baby x @sixamcc

dream teen sleepover x @sixamcc

dreamy nursery x @sixamcc

kids bedroom x @sixamcc

little critters x @syboubou

modern teen bedroom x @sixamcc

princess & vampire kids x @sixamcc

private school x @sixamcc

tiny playrooms x @sixamcc

entertainment

dance studio signs x @simdertalia

functional quarter coin vending machine x @aroundthesims

old school record store x @ccbybudgie

fantasy & spooky

magic books x @simdertalia

witchy crystal shop ad posters x @simdertalia

witchy crystal shop signs x @simdertalia

witchy shop decor set x @simdertalia

witchy shop window stickers x @simdertalia

fashion & salon

anybody's dress bridal shop x @ravasheencc

chic cosmetics: part 1 - part 2 x @bostyny

fashion store x nando

jewelry set x @aroundthesims

keratin salon set x @bbygyal123

passion by judith ward x @someone-elsa

perfume set x @simdertalia

shoe store & shelving mirror set x @simdertalia

food

appliance collection x @bbygyal123

candy bags x @ccbybudgie

cozy bistro add-on x @aroundthesims

felt letter board x @ccbybudgie

fish chalkboard + fishy wall decor x @brazenlotus

food store ads x @ccbybudgie

fusion pantry set x @bostyny

greasy goods x @littledica

honey, I cooked set x @mylittleponyoh

kitchen clutter x @charlypancakes

martini mixology decor x @bbygyal123

small spaces: pantry x @sixamcc

restaurant kitchen dishwashing x @aroundthesims

rise & grind coffee house x @littledica

sweet treats x @littledica

laundry

laundromat corner x @sixamcc

laundry day clutter x @brazenlotus

laundry room x @sixamcc

library & learning center

books & stuff set x @brazenlotus

business stationery x @aroundthesims

work from home x @sixamcc

working mode set x abbypigg

outdoors

beach shop x @aroundthesims

camping & pétanque x @aroundthesims

stuff for national parks x @aroundthesims

trekking x @aroundthesims

build mode

arold's shop x @pierisim

candyfloss: part 1 & part 2 x abbypigg

love for modern windows x @sixamcc

upscale window & door addon x @brazenlotus

#ts4 #the sims 4 #cc recs #cc finds #ts4 businesses & hobbies #ts4 custom content

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theladybrownstarot · 2 months ago

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Pick-A-Card: How will you feel after meeting with them ? [Collab :@divinefeminine-card]

-> 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ִֶָ |𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝-𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ִֶָ |𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 ִֶָ |

HOW TO PICK A PILE ? Take a deep breathe , close your eyes after your open them up choose the pile where your sight goes first in calming inner silence . If you are called up by more than one pile you please feel free to choose them. This Pick-A-Card is timeless therefore feel free !

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

When you will meet them it will sunny or crowdy that day , but after meeting them you would internally feel very happy like a child . Your worries will be gone leaving you away only with motivation , positivity and happiness that almost feels divine ! I can channel a scene where you are walking and dancing after meeting with them on street all away from the worldly business. It's not just about feeling how much you fallen for them but how that one personal space in your heart that was void is now filled with warmth almost making it a completion of happiness and contentment. You will be holding a lot of stress , having a serious "meh" mood or day and there this person comes taking away every like a swoosh . You may meet through some way like for example mostly, among the crowd , travelling, people with similar goal or problem approaching someone and then meet each other. They may have the aura or vibe of someone who feels of some typical play boy but they aren't it's just that they appear quite strict , reserved but when you talk you will feel very comfortable after . You can expect some possessiveness at first goo of meet damnn , they wouldn't let you off easily like they will just hook on you , they'll like , " they are mine, talking to me , can't you see ?" , "no please stay here more , I don't want you go so soon please" . You will butterflies in your stomach haha so interesting it is ! Apart from this that day when you meet them your spirit guides or angels will show your signs - books , songs , numbers or conversation. Some other significant extra details could be - number 9 , 4 , 5, Saturday, Monday , Thursday, Saturn/sun ruled people, office , crowd , office , education, mutual people/goal/obstacles & counsellor.

Type : 111 to claim the reading !

I too offer paid reading of various kinds, If interested than d.m me to get your own customized reading - link 🤍

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐. [divinefeminine-card]

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

At the time when you will be meeting your future spouse, I see you ending a cycle, or leaving something for your greater good. It will be the time of your life when you are upgrading in all sorts, in partner too ;) Meeting them will be filled with realizations. You will feel genuinely happy from inside. It's like you won't be able to stop smiling and laughing. Nevertheless, you will be wary, being cautious and tip toeing around for the first time. Perhaps it's your surroundings which expect you too. It's like, you will be going by a rule book. But, you will feel free and not stiffled. You might feel all sorts of emotions because of them, as good as they themselves might be, your emotions will not go much easy on you. Relax my pile 2 <3 . You will feel strengthened by them/their presence. You will feel at ease within your heart. You will feel that you can let go a bit. Your feelings and thoughts from this meeting Will linger deep within you, nothing is surface level here. Maybe this meeting will require you both to be co-operative, so working with them towards something at the meeting seems clear. It will be a good time. As I said in the very start, you will be leaving or letting go of something for greater good at the time, this meeting will play a huge role in it, your passion which was subtle till now will emerge right now, showing everyone your potential, it will be like a fire which has been reignited. At the end, this meeting will leave you will balanced and truth be told, confused. You will feel fulfilled and nice but you will doubt their intentions. Are they good? Is it right to feel like this? Will this go nice? And thoughts like that.

Type: 222 to claim the reading!

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

After meeting them you will be delulu lol , like you will develope that instant crush on them , head over heels , high-confidence that they are the one and no one else , you will feel like you will only have them and no one else on this earth yk like that child like stubbornness ? You will be hopelessly in love with them . This is hilarious but you all will be drooling over day-dream of marrying them and having kids after already mann like mann you just met them soo controlll ! After meeting with them you will be happy over everything even the a bit of bad experience won't be able to touch your sensitive emotions haha . Okay okay listen- there's the chance that your current crush or partner could be your future spouse/ your future spouse could be someone from past . After meeting them you will like that they are very sharing so the more you will open up the more they will hence you two will share sensual moments full of understanding and love . You may even feel emotional that dayyy and call up your best friend or friend saying , " I have got no time for your babes because I have found my only one to win right now for eternity". Your future spouse will have that feminine touch to them not only look wise but like their emotional Maturity will just take you away , possible you may meet through some gathering like parties or mutual friends . I don't feel that they will instantly feel that connection with you like you will feel at intensely otherwise they will be first attracted to you like they will see you someone who's safe to get close with . Very least chance of some third party intrusion but they are surely get admired by people and surrounded . But one thing that is when you meet them be more grounded and positive because they seem to be quite protective of their energy and others that's why . Some other significant extra deets : number 6 , 3 and 4 , check pile 1 if feel attracted the second half of reading could reasonte could resonate or wherever you feel to pick up from , Venus or mercury in cancer/ taurus , sun in scorpio and Pisces.

Type - 333 to claim the reading

I too offer paid reading of various kinds, If interested than d.m me to get your own customized reading - link 🤍

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒. [divinefeminine-card]

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

Right off the bat, they will have a strong and demanding presence, you will feel it. You could be able to see how good and skilled, heavy on the skilled, they are at holding their own. They will be older than you, it could be mature too, but I am seriously leaning towards older. They will be peaceful though. They won't talk unnecessary things, they won't be brash either. Their words will be careful and calculated with a practice ease. You will feel like, a part of you that was lost, or yet undiscovered, has finally been found. Meeting them will have you believing in destiny and fate, even if you don't. They will be that impactful to you. You will feel like floating out of joy. It will be enlightening.You will think they have a lot of money, perhaps it might be apparent from their way of dressing and carrying themselves. They will have that regal aura. And a protective one. Like, nothinggg can cross them! You will think they are really really knowledgeable but still very kind.You will think their minds are always on. Always on the go, thinking and planning the next thing. Their personality will be mix of all colours creating a beautiful blend. Oh, their eyes might be very beautiful and big, you will think that.You or they will be in a resting period during this time, nothing much going on with either's lives. You will think they are the type of person to think far ahead always, on guard, and in touch with their feminine side too, more like in a motherly way. Taking care of things and stuff. They will be family oriented, wanting a family of their own, they will reallyyy like children, obviously if you agree. They will like celebrations of all kind, homely celebrations or celebrations rooted in culture might be their favourite. Overall this meeting will be the start of many more such meetings in the future. You guys might meet on a scheduled date, or a place where you can get to know each other deeply.

Type - 444 to claim the reading !

Do let us know how do you feel about the reading! We will be very happy to know your responses ! It takes a lot to do these readings for you people so make sure you please support us and others readers over the platform ! We bless you wholeheartedly and any problem do let us know we will happily guide you !

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batsandbirdbrains · 2 months ago

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I’m half asleep so have a half baked idea that’s keeping me awake

The one where Dick and Bruce troll everyone

Set during season one of young justice. Dick is just an overall menace who loves to make everyone question everything they know. His favorite topic to cause mass confusion amongst unknowing Justice league members and every member of the young Justice team? His relationship with Batman

There are days where he insinuates Batman kidnapped him off the streets of Gotham.

“He saved me from Killer Croc eating me like a chicken wing.”

“I was supposed to go with the nice CPS lady but then Batman showed up and shoved me in the Batmobile and now I’m here!”

“I was walking home from school one day and he snatched me out of the shadows (he was hiding behind a dumpster).”

Sometimes they act like brothers who can’t stand each other half the time

“You’re such a buttmunch I hate you!” “Literally all I’m asking you to do is shower after training before you come home. You stink, Robin. You’re smelly.” “You’re smelly! Did the bats crap on your cowl before you came here?” Batman’s sigh is long, drawn out, and dramatic. He turns on his heel. Robin sticks his tongue out at him.

“Hey if I get this training sim completed at 100% will you get me Batburger on the way home?” “Fine. Don’t tell Agent A.” “Only if you also promise to get me a milkshake.” “Fine.”

“Yes.” “No.” “Yes!” “No!” “YES!” “NO!” This goes on for three full minutes. They’ve forgotten what they were arguing about. They’re not sure who wins.

Sometimes Batman is such a dad it feels like they’re not supposed to be watching even though it’s in the middle of Mount Justice where anyone can see.

After a particularly tiring mission and the subsequent debrief, Robin leans against Batman and definitely doesn’t close his eyes. He’s just resting them. It’s a slow blink, nothing more. Batman has a hand very softly carding through Robin’s hair, and he’s basically carrying him to the zeta tubes a couple minutes later to go back to the batcave.

Sometimes there’s a new video game out or something that Robin really wants, and he’ll whine and hang off Batman’s arm until he weasels Batman into buying it for him. He has to pinky promise. No take-backsies

They’ve absolutely heard Batman call Robin “chum” in a soft, proud voice that sounds nothing like the big bad Bat they all know.

Sometimes he just says wild shit to send them way off base:

“I dunno Conner, maybe you’re not the only clone around here.”

“He made me by mixing his own DNA with an actual bat, that’s why I’m so acroBATic. Haha, get it? Acro-BAT?”

“He stole me from the circus.”

“He’s actually a cryptid. He asked lady Gotham for light and hope and she gave him me!” “Does that make you a cryptid too?” “I dunno, maybe!”

“I’m his love child with justice.”

He’s only said the circus one exactly once because Bruce told him off for it being too close to the truth, but they did both get a laugh out of everyone’s reactions.

And then one day someone just straight up asks Robin, in front of Batman, if they’re related. And Robin blinks once, twice.

“He’s my roommate.”

It’s said so matter of fact, Robin just shrugs, and goes about whatever he was doing. Batman grunts in a confirmation sort of way, busy looking at a data pad.

Artemis, standing a little ways away behind Conner (who the rest of the team elected to go ask the question), shoves her face in a couch pillow and lets out a muffled scream. M’gann and Conner are confused. Wally is laughing. Kaldur tries to remember different surface customs in when children move out and get roommates.

“Wait but so how old is Batman then?” Wally’s question makes them all now wonder if Batman is even that much older than all of them.

In the other room, away from curious, prying eyes, Dick is smothering a giggle behind a gloved hand and shoving his face in Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce lets his lips quirk up just a little.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #robin #batman #young justice #for the sake of this AU let’s say Wally doesn’t know Robin’s secret ID yet #that or he’s in on the joke. but personally I think it’s funny if no one knows #dick and Bruce’s actual relationship is like a cross between teen dad and son & brothers with a very big age gap

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sunshinesfreckless · 3 months ago

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Bouquets & Cute Cashiers

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Hyunjin x GN!Reader

Summary: Hyunjin’s eyes appreciate every beautiful thing in the world—just like the cashier at the flower shop.

Warnings: Shy Hyunjin Fluff 😌 No warnings needed

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Hyunjin liked beautiful things.

The lilies, the roses, the baby’s breath… the tulips—God, the tulips. But most of all, he liked the cashier.

His fingers traced absent circles on the wooden countertop as he pretended to study the bouquets in front of him. He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. Every few seconds, his gaze flickered upward—just for a heartbeat, just long enough to take in the soft glow of the flower shop’s afternoon light resting against the cashier’s skin, the way their fingers moved delicately as they arranged a bouquet for another customer.

The register chimed.

Hyunjin looked up just in time to meet their eyes.

His stomach flipped. He immediately dropped his gaze back to the flowers, heat prickling at the tips of his ears. God. Just choose a bouquet, Hyunjin. He snatched up the one with white roses and baby’s breath—something soft, something bright, something that just screamed Felix—and walked to the counter before he could change his mind.

The cashier smiled at him. Warm, kind. Disastrous.

“Is this a gift?” they asked, already reaching for the wrapping paper.

Hyunjin swallowed. “Yeah…”

He fidgeted with his rings, watching as they carefully tied a bow around the bouquet, hands moving with gentle precision. When they handed him the receipt along with his card, his fingertips brushed against theirs for the briefest second.

And then he ran.

────୨ৎ────

The second time, he convinced himself he needed new flowers for Felix Room. That was it. Nothing more.

The third time, he told himself it was probably normal to want to brighten up a space…like Felix‘s Gaming set up !

By the fourth, he stopped pretending.

────୨ৎ────

“Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin blinked up at Felix, whose face was a mix of exasperation and something dangerously close to fond amusement. His Desk was covered in petals, stems, and ribbons. Bouquets filled every possible surface—the floor, the window ledge, even the chairs in his Room.

Felix sighed, gesturing around them. “Are you out of your mind?”

Hyunjin pouted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean,” Felix leaned against the desk, crossing his arms, “I really love you too, but you’ve been buying me bouquets for two weeks. I barely have any room to sit.”

From Felix‘s couch, Chan raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed as he shifted between two oversized peony arrangements.

Felix pointed at him. “Chan barely has room to sit.”

Hyunjin chewed on his lip. “I… might have gotten carried away.”

Felix scoffed. “Might?”

Hyunjin shrank into his hoodie, mumbling, “They just… have really nice flowers.”

Felix narrowed his eyes.

Hyunjin stared at the floor.

And then, realization hit.

Felix gasped. “Oh my God.”

Hyunjin immediately turned around, feigning sudden interest in the bouquet nearest to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have a crush on the cashier!”

“Felix—”

“You do!”

Chan snorted from the couch. “Well, that explains so much.”

────୨ৎ────

Hyunjin ignored the teasing from his friends and slipped out of the dorm building, the familiar route to the flower shop already ingrained in his morning routine.

The little bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and there they were—bathed in soft morning light, arranging a fresh display of tulips.

“You again?” The cashier’s voice was warm, teasing. “My dearest customer.”

Hyunjin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… me again.”

They tilted their head at him, amusement dancing in their eyes. “Are you freshly married or something? Who are all these flowers for?”

Hyunjin hesitated. The truth sat heavy on his tongue, but his lips moved on their own.

“I’m a painter!” he blurted out. “I paint only flowers!”

The cashier’s smile widened, something knowing flickering in their gaze. “Is that so?”

Hyunjin nodded frantically. “Yeah. Flowers. Nothing but flowers.”

Their fingers traced the petals of a nearby peony, eyes glinting with amusement. “Well then, my favorite painter, let’s find you something worthy of your next masterpiece.”

The cashier’s fingers moved delicately, plucking a few stems from the display as they spoke. “okay…..“ “Hyunjin“ “ Okay Hyunjin! How about these? Something with soft colors, a little bit of texture…”

Hyunjin didn’t hear a word. He was too busy staring—not at the flowers, but at them. The way the sunlight caught the curve of their cheek, the gentle lilt in their voice, the way their hands handled every petal like it was something sacred.

“Hyunjin?”

His breath hitched. “Huh?”

They chuckled. “I asked if these would work for your painting?”

“Oh! Uh—yeah!” He nodded way too fast, nearly knocking over a small potted plant in the process. “Perfect! I love them! I mean, I—uh, I love… flowers. For painting. Which I do. Professionally.”

The cashier just smiled and rang up his order, their fingers brushing his as they handed him the bouquet.

Hyunjin swore his heart stopped.

“Thankyougottago!”

And then he sprinted out of the flower shop. Again.

────୨ৎ────

Felix stared at the growing jungle of flowers in their dorm, then at his best friend—who was currently lying face-down on the couch, groaning into a throw pillow.

“Okay, enough.” Felix clapped his hands, making Hyunjin peek up miserably. “We’re going back tomorrow.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in horror. “Felix, no—”

“Felix, yes.”

“But—”

Felix grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, already dragging him off the couch. “You’re clearly in love with them, and if I have to hear you sigh wistfully into your tea one more time, I’m personally putting you in a flowerpot.”

Hyunjin groaned. “But I—”

“Nope! No arguments!” Felix grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’re buying flowers. And this time, you’re actually talking to them.”

Hyunjin had never wanted to disappear more in his entire life.

────୨ৎ────

As soon as they stepped into the flower shop, he instinctively ducked behind Felix, gripping the back of his hoodie like it was a shield that could somehow protect him from embarrassment. Felix, of course, had no such reservations—he strode straight to the counter with the confidence of someone who wasn’t about to be publicly humiliated.

“Good morning!” Felix greeted, flashing his signature sunshine smile.

The cashier looked up, surprised. Their gaze flickered from Felix to Hyunjin, who was half-hidden behind him, peeking out like a terrified puppy. And then—

“Oh my God!” Their eyes widened in realization. “So this is your boyfriend?!”

Hyunjin choked.

“What?!”

The cashier laughed, leaning on the counter. “Don’t tell me you were actually buying all those flowers for him this whole time. Were you lying to me?”

Felix snorted so hard he almost doubled over. “Oh, God, no!”

And before Hyunjin could even attempt to escape, Felix grabbed him—not gently, not kindly, but with the force of an extrovert on a mission—and shoved him right next to him at the counter.

“Listen,” Felix said, slamming a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder like a proud car salesman. “This guy? Right here? He’s been coming in every day, buying bouquets, pretending he’s some fancy ‘I only paint flowers’ artist—“Felix made dramatic air quotes—when really, he’s just been too much of a coward to admit he’s got the biggest, most ridiculous crush on you.”

Hyunjin made a strangled noise somewhere between a gasp and a dying animal. “Felix—”

“No, no, let me finish!” Felix cut him off, grinning like a madman. “Two weeks! He’s been doing this for two weeks, sighing dramatically into his tea, staring wistfully out the window like he’s the lead in a romance drama, all because he’s too shy to just ask you out!”

Silence.

Hyunjin could feel his soul leaving his body. He didn’t have to look in a mirror to know his face was the color of the deep red roses on display.

The cashier blinked. Then—

They smiled.

A soft, amused, fond smile.

“Is that true, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His brain was short-circuiting.

“I—uh—maybe?”

The cashier chuckled, resting their chin in their hand. “You could’ve just asked me to go out with you, you know.”

Felix gasped dramatically. “OH MY GOD—”

“Felix, I will kill you—”

The cashier laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about this—” they reached for a small bouquet of daisies behind the counter and handed it to Hyunjin, their fingers lingering just a second longer against his. “I pick the flowers today. And in return, you take me out for coffee?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His fingers curled around the bouquet.

“Yes,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. Yes. I would love that.”

Felix clapped a hand over his heart. “My work here is done.”

#skz hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #felix #felix stray kids #felix x reader #felix yongbok #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids

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ladymarvel27 · 10 months ago

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So Skeptical | Carlos Sainz

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Description: He is suspecting you fell out of love for him.

Word count: 800+

f1 masterlist

He was noticing you were distancing yourself from him since the last race. You always looked busy. Not like in real busy but fake busy, as if trying to avoid him. Another thing that bothered him was that you were talking to Charles, even more than you were talking to him.

His heart sank seeing you rapidly texting someone discreetly on Saturday morning before the quali.

“Hey princess,” he appeared in front of you. You immediately shut your phone, shoving it in your pocket, and he felt his heart break a little.

“Hey, Carlos. Ready for the quali?” He could see your made-up smile.

“Yeah,” he nods, bringing up a smile covering up his little heartbreak. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to press a kiss on his cheek. “Good luck honey,” you say. He pulls you into his arms and you giggle against his chest, feeling warm and lovely. You were so perfect, the thing he has and he feels for you is so beautiful. He keeps wondering how could you do this to him, as his grip around you tightens. Maybe he is just overthinking? It was only frantic texting, fishing some information for your new venture. He found it so endearing how you were so passionate about your profession. You were so lovely, so adorable. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He felt the urge to pick you and spun you around and kiss your pretty lips passionately and tell you how much he- “Carlos?” He is snapped of his thoughts by your voice. He pulls away and looks at you. “Are you fine?”

“HUH?”

“You are crying?” He didn’t even realise tears streaming down his face. You wiped it away. “Yeah just,” he trails off and you raise your eyebrows, making him continue, “I am glad that I have a girl like you in my life.”

“Me too. I love you my-” You were interrupted by his engineer calling him. “I should leave, huh?”

“Yeah, go smash in the quali!” You say with excitement.

As soon as he got free from the parce ferme, he ran to talk to you. He needed to. He was so tense during the quali that he couldn’t focus at all and ended it in heavy disappointment. “Y/N!” He sprinted to you, out of breath.

“Hey, Carlos,” you immediately hugged his sweaty body tightly, “You did so good. I am so proud.” He was confused as hell and scrunched his nose. “It was just P5.” He replied to your compliment.

“But you couldn’t even make it to Q3 in last race.” He felt bad when you spoke it out. “You improved Carlos!” You smiled brightly and shook him by his shoulders. “Yeah,” he chuckles lightly.

“Y/n,” he rubs your shoulders, “can we-”

“Carlos the media pen is starting,” his PR interrupts.

“Carlos. I am tired. I think this gonna take time, so I am returning to the hotel.”

“Oh yeah, you should. Bye. See you in the evening!”

As soon as he finished up all his daywork, he rushed to leave immediately to see you. He glanced at his wristwatch. 11:55 p.m. It’s too late. You would have fallen asleep. Gosh! He felt like time was slipping from his hand as sand. He feels something is wrong. Maybe you’re not doing but there is something. Maybe you just fell out of love? And it’s all your disinterest surfacing up but he isn’t catching. He rushed to the door and immediately placed the key card. The door buzzed open. The lights were off. He turned on the lights. You were nowhere to be seen. His heart sank. He slowly made his way past the room to the lobby area.

As soon as he turned on the lights, several voices shouted, “Happy Birthday!” You were standing between everyone, holding a small cake with a lit 30th candle. You went forward to him and brought it in front of him. He smiled brightly seeing the cake: with a customized picture of him from last year when he took pole in Monza. He was suspecting and overthinking so much, he forgot he had his birthday coming up. And how this could be the reason for it.

“Happy birthday, my bear.” He grinned with all his teeth out. “The cake Carlos, we got it specially for you,” Charles shouts from behind. He nods and blows the candles, his grin being a constant presence on his face. Everyone starts singing for him. “This the prettiest birthday cake I have ever got,” he spoke, “but we have to cut it, right?”

You chuckled at him. “Of course, you have to, Carlitos,” you wink. He laughs and cuts the cake, his heart swelling with the warmth and love he feels for you. You press a kiss on his cheek, making his grin wider.

A/n: Yeah, this is a birthday special, I wrote in just few hours. Thanks to my sister for proofreading.

Taglist: @faithshouseofchaos @itsjustvs4

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divinefeminine-card · 1 month ago

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Pick-A-Card: How will you feel after meeting with them ? [Collab :@theladybrownstarot]

-> HOW TO PICK A PILE ? Take a deep breathe , close your eyes after your open them up choose the pile where your sight goes first in calming inner silence . If you are called up by more than one pile you please feel free to choose them. This Pick-A-Card is timeless therefore feel free !

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 [theladybrownstarot].

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

When you will meet them it will sunny or crowdy that day , but after meeting them you would internally very happy like a child . Your worries will be gone away and left away only with motivation , positivity and happiness almost feels like divine ! I can channel a scene where you are walking and dancing after meeting with them on street all away from the worldly business. It's not more about feeling so in love with them after the meet you would feel but about some internal completion that would make very happy , almost like feeling that one space that was never filled before . You may be holding a lot of stress , having a serious like meh and there this person comes taking away every like a swoosh . You may meet through some way like for example mostly, among the crowd , travelling, people with similar goal or problem approaching someone and then meet each other. They may have the aura or vibe of someone who feels of some typical play boy but they aren't it's just that they appear quite strict , reserved but when you talk you will feel very comfortable after . You can expect some possessiveness at first goo of meet damnn , they wouldn't let you off easily like they will just hook on you , they'll like , " they are mine, talking to me , can't you see ?" , "no please stay here more , I don't want you go so soon please" . You will butterflies in your stomach haha so interesting it is ! Apart from this that day when you meet them your spirit guides or angels will show your signs - books , songs , numbers or conversation. Some other significant extra details could be - number 9 , 4 , 5, Saturday, Monday , Thursday, Saturn/sun ruled people, office , crowd , office , education, mutual people/goal/obstacles & counsellor.

Type : 111 to claim the reading !

I too offer paid reading of various kinds, If interested than d.m me to get your own customized reading - link 🤍

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐. Hello pile 2!

:At the time when you will be meeting your future spouse, I see you ending a cycle, or leaving something for your greater good. It will be the time of your life when you are upgrading in all sorts, in partner too ;) Meeting them will be filled with realizations. You will feel genuinely happy from inside. It's like you won't be able to stop smiling and laughing. Nevertheless, you will be wary, being cautious and tip toeing around for the first time. Perhaps it's your surroundings which expect you too. It's like, you will be going by a rule book. But, you will feel free and not stiffled. You might feel all sorts of emotions because of them, as good as they themselves might be, your emotions will not go much easy on you. Relax my pile 2 <3 . You will feel strengthened by them/their presence. You will feel at ease within your heart. You will feel that you can let go a bit. Your feelings and thoughts from this meeting Will linger deep within you, nothing is surface level here. Maybe this meeting will require you both to be co-operative, so working with them towards something at the meeting seems clear. It will be a good time. As I said in the very start, you will be leaving or letting go of something for greater good at the time, this meeting will play a huge role in it, your passion which was subtle till now will emerge right now, showing everyone your potential, it will be like a fire which has been reignited. At the end, this meeting will leave you will balanced and truth be told, confused. You will feel fulfilled and nice but you will doubt their intentions. Are they good? Is it right to feel like this? Will this go nice? And thoughts like that.

Type: 222 to claim the reading!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 [theladybrownstarot]

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

After meeting them you will be delulu lol , like you will develope that instant crush on them , head over heels , high-confidence that they are the one and no oneself, you will feel like you will only have them and no one else on this earth yk like that child like stubbornness ? You will be hopelessly in love with them . This is hilarious but you all will be drooling over day-dreaming about your marriage , kids and life after already like mann you just met them controlll ! After meeting with them you will be happy over everything even the little bad won't be able to touch your sensitive emotions haha . Okay okay listen- there's the chance that your current crush or partner could be your future spouse/ your future spouse could be someone from past . After meeting them you will like that they are very sharing so the more you will open up the more they will hence you two will share sensual moments full of understanding and love . You may even feel emotional that dayyy and call up your best friend or friend saying , " I have got no time for your babes because I have found my only one to win right now for eternity". Your future spouse will have that feminine touch to them not only look wise but like their emotional Maturity will just take you away , possible you may meet through some gathering like parties or mutual friends . I don't feel that they will instantly feel that connection with you like you will feel at intensely otherwise they will be first attracted to you like they will see you someone who's safe to get close with . Very least chance of some third party intrusion but they are surely get admired by people and surrounded . But one thing that is when you meet them be more grounded and positive because they seem to be quite protective of their energy and others that's why . Some other significant extra deets : number 6 , 3 and 4 , check pile 1 if feel attracted the second half of reading could reasonte could resonate or wherever you feel to pick up from , Venus or mercury in cancer/ taurus , sun in scorpio and Pisces.

Type - 333 to claim the reading

I too offer paid reading of various kinds, If interested than d.m me to get your own customized reading - link 🤍

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒. Hey pile 4!

Type - 444 to claim the reading !

So the reading is done, anyone choosing to do this pac, hope you loved it and found something for yourself too, let's meet again in the future, till then have a good time <33

#free readings #tarot reading #free tarot reading #pick a pile #palak reads #pick a card #Collab pac

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newtsniffles · 7 months ago

Text

BETWEEN YOUR EYES

the jackal x oc

chapter one

WARNING: this fanfiction will contain mature scenes, violence, and coarse language.

word count: 1.6k, a short set-up chapter. enjoy!

if you enjoy this fanfiction, please don't forget to interact.

CHAPTER ONE: ONE SHOT, ONE KILL.

Grace McCarron loved the smell of coffee. Especially in the early mornings when the sun hadn’t risen and the streets were still wet with last night’s rain. It irked her though, how people could be so loud at such an early hour. Couldn’t people just be quiet? Talk at a normal volume, it was only the hour of six.

The blonde’s fingers rap against the counter in a steady rhythm. Her expression reads neutral as she watches the customers enjoying their breakfasts, discussing work projects and gossip. It was all so mundane, every word they said was capable of drawing a yawn from her lips. Nobody is interesting this morning.

With a sigh, Grace reaches under the counter for the remote, flicking on the television in the corner. Her head tilts, blue eyes sparkling with intense focus at the headline written across the lower third of the screen.

Manfred Fest assassinated.

Grace’s eyes narrow, something interesting. Her attention is only being drawn away by the sound of a customer waiting to order. A young woman, brunette, she’d be mid-twenties.

‘It’s horrible isn’t it?’ The woman says.

‘I’m on the fence,’ Grace admits. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘A latte, please… You don’t think it’s bad?’

‘That a fascist offended somebody and got himself killed? Not really.’ Grace presses the coffee, clicking it into the machine before foaming the milk. With practised expertise, she fills a takeaway cup with the espresso and milk, creating lines of art on the top.

‘I don’t know much about foreign politics,’ the woman taps her card.

‘Take it from me, be glad he won’t be the new German Chancellor.’

Grace’s attention is brought back to the screen as the customer walks away with her latte. A single sniper shot from a distance of over three kilometres. Impressive. More than. The corners of her lips tilt into a small grin, leaning back onto the counter with crossed arms, she watches the news report.

It had started raining again, like it usually did in London. The sound of tires driving over the slick roads was comforting to Grace. Red brake lights reflected in the puddles by the footpath, headlights and street lamps casting a warm hue despite the darkening sky. She loved the rain, the sound of it pattering against whatever surface. However, it did make it hard to get a decent line of sight. Her lips quirked slightly, a lover of challenge. One blue eye closed, a glint of thrill in the other as it stared through the scope of a personalised sniper rifle.

Sleeping with the blinds open, Grace could never understand it, but it certainly helped her in this case. The target laid across his bed, his thumb scrolling across the screen of his phone. The lights in his apartment were on, everything visible. He was so stupidly vulnerable. She could’ve shot six times over by now, but would there be any fun in that? Her finger taps against the trigger as she recalls the deviance of the sleazy man. The world would be better off without him.

BANG. One shot, one kill.

Grace pulls her head back from the sniper, standing up, she starts to pack down the rifle. Her eyes don’t leave the window of the now-deceased target as she unscrews the barrel, packing it all into a case. She hurries downstairs, unlocking her car and driving off swiftly. Chances are nobody would find him until morning, but it is still safer to get away as quickly as possible.

The internet cafe was practically dead at this hour, a lone stranger or two. It had started to rain outside again, Grace could hear it on the roof, see it on the windows. It was also a Wednesday, unlikely that it would be busy. She plugs a USB into one of the many PCs, accessing Dark Core.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ job complete.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___he will not bother you anymore.

FPOxENT779X___thank you.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___yes.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908 one new message.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Big admirers of your work. Have project we think will interest you. Superlative remuneration.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t work for money.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___What do you work for?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___enforcement of consequence.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___There is a man who needs to face consequences.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Can’t talk here.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will you meet in person?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___where?

Grace sits back in her seat, her finger traces her bottom lip as she waits for a response. This was an odd one, but they seem insistent. For them to know of her work, they had to have communication with sources she had helped in the past.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will make a transfer of good will. Location attached.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___tomorrow morning.

Logout.

A sum of $10,000 has been transferred to your account.

A transfer message has been left.

Grace shuts down the computer, taking out the USB, she packs it into her handbag. Her lips quirk as she exits the internet cafe. Something new, something interesting, a potential challenge. This calls for a stop at that delicious dessert bar down the road from her apartment, a nice meringue or maybe some ice cream would do.

For once the sun was out in London, albeit only slightly, but it did still make Grace look less ridiculous for wearing a cap and sunglasses. She notices a woman sitting on the park bench, must be her. Her black coat flutters behind her in the wind as she sits beside the other woman.

‘Who are you?’ Grace asks.

‘Irish?’ The woman responds with a question.

‘And you’re American.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why am I here?’ Grace leans back against the park bench, crossing her legs. ‘What did he do? Was it assault, did he hurt the kids…?’

‘Ulle Dag Charles.’

‘UDC… the River man?’

‘Yes,’ She answers.

‘I don’t see how exposing the rich is a crime,’ Grace grins. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve wasted my time.’

‘If he releases River, it’s not just the rich who fall. All secret networks will be exposed, you’ll be discovered.’ The woman turns to face Grace, trying to get a look at her expression. She quickly realises it’s impossible with the cap and the darkly tinted glasses. ‘You’ll go to prison for a long time.’

‘If that’s the case, hidden networks of paedophiles, rapists… it will all be exposed. You think they’ll go after little old me?’

‘I think even after exposing the rich, they’ll still have the power, and they’ll still be protected.’

‘You’re very insistent,’ Grace observes. ‘Why me?’

‘Because you always get the job done.’

Sighing, Grace looks up at the cloudy sky, the sun peaking out slightly. She sucks in a breath of the fresh park air before responding. ‘This job is a bit harder than the others…’

‘Which is why we’ve hired a second… professional, such as yourself.’

‘First, you ask me to eliminate a man for wanting to expose the rich, and now you tell me I’d have to work with another person?’

There is a silence that passes momentarily between the two women as they stare each other down.

‘River is good for nobody. You will go to prison.’

‘No, I won’t.’ Grace smirks knowingly. ‘Who is the other person?’

‘He is one of the best, alongside yourself.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I don’t know his identity…’ She answers. ‘He took out Fest.’

‘Ah.’ Grace’s lips immediately quick upwards, a grin taking over her expression. She stands up, hands in pockets, she stares down at the woman still sitting. ‘And what do they call you?’

‘Zina.’

‘Zina… I don’t kill innocent men. Give me one good reason to take this job, and not because of River.’

‘...’ The American woman sits there contemplating for a moment, her mind working a million miles an hour. ‘You don’t have to take the shot. We need you to… babysit.’

Grace lets out a loud chuckle, ‘babysit?’

‘It seems our other hire is caught up in a few… troubles after the fest situation. We need you to ensure he gets the job done, and if he fails to, you step in and finish it.’

‘Well… let’s hope he doesn’t fail.’

‘Is that a yes to the job?’ Zina sits up straight.

‘He is aware, I assume?’

‘He will be made aware.’

‘Get me in contact,’ Grace turns around and walks away, her coat once again billowing behind her.

It was another early morning, three days after Grace’s meeting with Zina. She sat behind the counter at the cafe, it was a very quiet morning. A Sunday morning, not many were up and about. She opened her laptop, plugging in her USB.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___who are you?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___should i not be asking you?

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i do not need babysitting.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ah.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___the other ‘professional’

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___nice shot.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___refuse the job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t think i will.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i get bored sometimes.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___then stay out of the way.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i do the job i’m hired for.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___don’t get into trouble, and i won’t have to step in and clean it up.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t need anybody to clean up.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___a little birdy told me otherwise.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i am not the enemy.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t work in teams.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___there is a first time for everything.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m not here to steal your job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m here to cover your ass so you can get it done.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you said you don’t work in teams, that means you have no connections.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you will fuck up, you will go to jail.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___Munich.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i will send the hotel details.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___see you there.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

enjoy? consider a tip. https://ko-fi.com/newtsniffles

taglist: @ysabay @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm @fawkes5050 @our-future-is-up-to-us-2 @itszara-theurbanwitch @wintercrows @rosie-read-that @kpopgirlbtssvt

#eddie redmayne #eddie redmayne x reader #eddie redmayne x oc #fanfiction #jackal x reader #jackal x oc #the day of the jackal #the day of the jackal x reader #the day of the jackal x oc

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quapriprinting · 2 days ago

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grandisknight · 9 months ago

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dots and dashes | sylus

summary: Sylus gives insight into one of the many languages he's well-versed in.

tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, banter, morse code, vibrator, sex toys, orgasm edging, f!orgasm, aftercare/morning after, gift giving, evol abilites (sylus' energy manipulation), a pinch of fluff

wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: mildly inspired by one of his older text messages (affinity 37’s text message: deal)! also around his pre-debut, he had morse code in one of the teasers (official weibo post here) and i thought that was pretty neat so here we are ^_^)7

The leader of Onychinus kept a plethora of languages stored away under his sleeve. A man of multiple tongues and talents, you just wanted to know how to say one thing—anything, really.

Though, you didn’t think he’d take a silly comment in passing so seriously, and it landed you in his personal study the following evening. A rare day where your schedules aligned, Sylus took the opportunity to extend a warm welcome into the N109 Zone under the promise of a ‘lesson.’

Of all the languages, morse code was what he decided to reveal in his cards. A curious choice, to say the least, but it piqued your interest nevertheless. Cozied in one of the cushioned chairs, a beginner’s guide laid flat across the desk with your scribbled notes. Sylus’ chair was tucked to the side in observation, accompanying your lessons as a stand-in teacher of sorts.

Time passed in this way—he would offer a series of taps and drags with his fingers against the surface, and you would write them down. He was patient with you all throughout, solidifying the foundation for the alphabet before switching to small words and phrases.

A question that had been plaguing your mind since you arrived drifted into the air during a self-proclaimed break. “By the way, why do you know morse code?”

With a hand propping your chin, your gaze takes in his relaxed figure. Comfortably dressed in his light gray sweater, the detailed threads of silver patterns painted him in a softer aura that juxtaposed his usually formidable appearance. Rimless glass coveted the rubied gaze that would occasionally meet yours, though occupied in thought.

It was distracting, to say the least. A handsome distraction at its finest, though it doesn’t pull away from the message he quietly relayed to you.

A dot, two dashes. A series of dashes, another dot and some more followed. (.-- / --- / .-. / -.-)

Counting off the units that met the table in muted taps, you answer, “Work?”

“Good ear, sweetie.” Sylus nods, leaning back and adjusting the thin frames balancing atop his nose. “Sometimes, negotiations are better said without words.”

“That’s a thinly veiled way of saying threats, but sure,” you retort. He doesn’t deny your claims, rather letting out a small chuckle in acquiesce.

Sylus taps your forehead with his forefinger, amusement quirked in his brow. “You’ve seen the kind of talks and people I’ve dealt with. Who knows, you could use this in one of your little undercover missions too.”

His hands return to nestle in his lap, and it catches your eye then—a faint snap and swirl of black manifested into a box underneath his palm. Perfectly fitted and nearly hidden if it weren’t for the glimmering trim around the edges, and the fluttering crow feather swaying towards the floor.

“Curious, are we?” Sylus voices your thoughts, fingers drumming against the lid.

Two dashes and a dot, a couple more dots, another dash-dot and lasting dash. (--. / .. / ..-. / -)

“Gift,” you echo upon realization.

Your eyes wandered between his lap and the sparkling rubied gaze that honed his presence, reading between the lines. “Don’t tell me it’s another gun? Last time I checked, my Harrier 700 still works well.”

And the last thing you wanted to deal with was a run-in with customs, if that were the case—he’s already tried his luck before, and you weren’t counting on his luck index to grant a second chance.

“You’ve been taking good care of it, so there’s no need for a replacement,” Sylus says. He leans back, tapping a forefinger to his temple in thought. “I thought it would be nice to get you something for studying so diligently.”

It had your back straightening in attention—now you really had no idea what he could be hiding. Even so, a scowl sketched onto your face, wondering if you’ve walked into a trap. A dry chuckle parts his lips at your clear interest and adamant attempt to maintain a façade all the same.

“Sweetie, it’s all yours.”

“It’s not that simple though, is it?”

“Ah. You know me so well,” he muses. “As vigilant as ever.”

The box finds itself on the desk and his hands reach for your chair. They dance over the armrest before turning your full front towards him—where his cocked head and curled lips asked, “Let’s make a deal. How does that sound?”

“What’s the catch?” Your heart jumped into your throat, unsure of when the air became so… palpable. Damn him and his ridiculously handsome face, you couldn’t tell if it made this more bearable or stirred your senses further. “I might be willing to wager.”

“Relax, that’s one of the conditions.” His larger fingers swipe over one of yours, which had subconsciously curled into a fist. Gently, he coaxes your hand to open into his, soon neatly slotted and all encompassing with warmth. “You look nervous, and I haven’t done a thing.”

“I know.” Your shoulders relax when his thumb massages yours in a light stroke. “But you haven’t done anything yet,” you clarify.

“Which brings me to my second condition.” He brings it closer to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours when he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “A test, if you will. You pass if you manage to decode my sequence correctly.”

“My sequence,” you pause, catching the tail end of his proposal. “So there’s only one?”

“Why, do you want a whole pop quiz?” He snickers, a brow raised. “We’ll be stuck here all night if that’s the case.”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head, finding the prospect to be less than charming. One was more than enough to take on your plate.

You purse your lips then and poke in jest. “Are you doubting my academic prowess now?”

“I would’ve dismissed you entirely if I was,” Sylus points out, tugging your hand towards him.

It jerked you forward unexpectedly, though it seemed he was anticipating this—smooth swirls of red and black tangled around your body, gently placing you atop his expecting lap before softly dispersing. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re as bright as they come,” he adds in honesty.

“What the—hey, now!” A flush ran across your cheeks at the newfound proximity.

Hips hovering above him, you nearly fell onto the fine meeting place between his thighs. You save yourself the embarrassment, reaching for the chair’s headrest to steady your shift. He allows you this much, your legs soon bracketing his own and enjoying the sight all the same.

You huffed, “Is this part necessary?”

“Par for the course, actually.” Sylus’ fingers ghost over your sides, before settling atop your thighs and his palms lying flat in a gentle caress. “You can always back out if you’re not game.”

An arrow to your pride dug into your heart at the mere offense. The competitive spirit that once laid dormant jerked into consciousness—absolutely not. “No, we’re on. Do your worst,” you raise in steadfast confidence. “I can take it.”

“Those are fighting words,” he says. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable, teetering on a fine line of fondness and scheme alike. “But I’ll hold you to it.”

—

So, maybe your confidence could only carry you so far.

Rather, it tumbled you into a predicament at the cost of your exposed cunt. His free hand lazily dimpled into the plush of your hip, simultaneously careful to keep you steady. No longer a comfortable chill, the study’s air swirled into a concoction of heat and burning salacity in every inhale.

“Sweetie,” Sylus purrs. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. The game of codes was the last thing on your mind when a fine man of caliber was perched beneath you, gracefully stringing you along and allowing you the same right.

Easily thrown out the window, especially so, when all inhibition was lost to his kneaded touches and peppered kisses. The smooth movements that treasured your skin with care, tugging your bottoms down just enough in the process and tenderly appreciating you throughout the heat of the moment. Even his hair stuck out in one direction to the next, unkempt from the field day your tugging fingers reshaped the silver stands into.

Be that as it may, you still groan, chest rising to catch your breath. Nails drag into planes of his firm shoulder blades, lightly leaving their mark. “It’s because you’re not playing fair, Sy.” If you had a nickel for every time you were close to crashing in his embrace from an impending climax, it would be two. While it’s not an impressive sum, both were earned in the past few minutes alone, under the direction of his cunning smile and newfound toy in hand.

To his kindness, he pulls the rounded head of the vibrator away from your clit—the once muffled hums rang out more clearly, whirring at the highest setting. It glistened to the naked eye, finely coated in a layer of your evident arousal.

“All is fair in love and war,” he says, unphased by the line of bait you failed to reel in. He leans forward to press a kiss into your temple, a sign of affection pairing with a gentle squeeze to your side. “Should I be nice and walk you through one last chance?”

Your hands trace the curves melting into his neck, grazing his nape in forewarning. “Thin ice, Onychinus head.”

“Alright,” he muses, though reveling at the added pressure that only spurs him further. “No need to get so formal with me.” The vibrator lowers in the same breath to meet your anticipating heat.

“Five letters. Ready?”

Your hips roll forward then, impatience losing its virtue if meant you could finally, finally seek some relief. “Was practically born ready, at this point.” And then, the first rhythm played out in three, gentle presses to where you needed it most.

Three dots. (...)

This was fine, you could handle this much.

A moment of pause soon sways into the vibrator sliding between skin, returning to the apex of your labia, and dipping once again.

A dash, added dot, and paired dashes thereafter. (-.--) “Still with me?” Sylus asks, taking in the sight of your eyes screwed in concentration. It was endearing, in some sense of the word, and his gaze lingered on your expression in intrigue.

Though grateful for the concern, you chide when your breath allows it. “Don’t stop, go all the way already.”

To stop halfway tested what little patience there was left in you. You raised your head to find his circles of crimson brimming with a fondness and undivided attention. All for you.

The grin he graces you with carries the same sentiments, newly tinted with mirth. “Whatever the boss wants.”

The humming returns without warning, and you jerk against the touch, gasping. A press and slide, following upwards once more in double succession.

Another dot, dash, and two dots in a row. (.-.. )

You were quickly beginning to piece together the puzzle he left you to solve, the audacity of it all.

Before you could admonish such revelations, you bite your tongue when he continues into the next piece. It was fleeting, but memorable—identical presses and a sinister slide, the buzzing toy greeting your entrance in slick abundance.

Two dots, and a dash. (..- )

“You’re not—” Your eyes grow wide at the newly placed prodding.

“Getting cold feet? A minute ago you wanted me to go all the way,” Sylus recalls with a click of his tongue. “It would be unlike you to stop right before the finish line, sweetie.”

You squirm against him, sensitive and incredibly aware of the coil threatening to unfurl. He takes notice, hand stilling in consideration.

“You can do it,” he croons, forehead to yours and capturing your fluttering gaze.

“Never said I couldn’t,” you say, a swallow sealing your determination.

Sylus smiles. “Last letter. Let's make it count.” The vibrator slips into your cunt, whirring against your walls in a sense of overwhelming ecstasy. He makes quick work of it all then, three generous thrusts of the wand disappearing almost entirely, save for his firm grip around the base.

Three final dots. (...)

It marks the end of his charades, and the beginning of your incandescent cries.

You came undone at last, release ebbing as a flurry of sounds shape themselves into your call. “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.”

“That’s it, ride it out for me. You worked so hard to earn it, after all.” His nose brushes just beneath your jaw, a tender kiss in consolation to soothe your high.

He relaxes the toy out of your spent heat by the time your trembling thighs subsided, power shutting off and rolling onto the desk’s surface. A brief swirling of black and crimson manifests a small cloth into his hand, gently patting away the stickied outcome before it disperses in the same specks. His fingers rake along your sides, dragging the fabric of your bottoms into their proper place.

“Sylus.” You slump against his shoulder in recovery, bemoaning amidst the moment of calm clarity. “You are unbelievable. The damn answer was your name, of all things.” “And now you know how to call for me in code. Aren’t I generous?” The slight rumble of his chest supports the chuckle he lets out, deepened further when a curl of your fist smacks his shoulder in protest.

Endearment softens his tone as he draws circles into your back, taking the rolling punches. The other tangles his fingers against your temple, smoothing out the sides in thought. “I would say our lesson went well today.”

“One hell of a lesson,” you remark. Your breathing slows for a moment, listening to the drumming heart beneath your ear. His caresses were kind, lulling, attentive. A sense of peace, wholeheartedly yours and Sylus' alone.

Your gaze shifts towards the desk, when another piece of memory, well-decorated in its untouched trim, lies next to the toy. Forgotten, nearly—the gift. “By the way,” you murmur. “What’s in the box?” Whether it was out of laziness and unwilling to move from your warmth or pure convenience, Sylus waves his hand in summoning. Accepting the floating item midair, you were about to peel off the lid when he began to shift under you, interrupting your grand reveal.

“Hold on.”

With practiced ease, Sylus single-handedly cradles you to his chest and adeptly rises from the cushioned seat. No matter how many times he’s pulled it off in the past, it still leaves you breathless as if it were the first time.

You circle an arm around his neck, the other clutching the box with a huff, “I was about to do an unboxing, you know.”

“I know,” he confirms, and presses another kiss to your temple. “But you’re getting sleepy. Open it after a good night’s rest.”

A swirl of Evol pushes the doors open, his footsteps echoing down the hall and towards his sanctuary. Your mind willed to protest his attempt of procrastination, yet only a yawn pushed past your lips and proved his point.

Curling into his embrace, you faintly mumble into his neck, “I’m wide awake.”

“And the sun shines at midnight,” Sylus deadpans, unimpressed at your performance. “Don’t fight it. If you’re tired, then sleep. I’ll make sure the gift will be there when you wake up.” “You promise?”

“With my heart,” he says.

It was a simple response, yet the timbre of his words imbued security and affection all the same. As if he meant more than just ensuring your box was safe, swearing to something beyond your greater comprehension.

One blink lasted longer than the one prior, sweeping the thought and yourself away into soundless sleep. Another time, perhaps.

—

You would find out the following day that he stayed true to his word. In the quiet hums of the morning, a slumbering giant clung to your side, his breathing calm and unknowing you had finally peeled open the mysterious box.

A finely crafted jewel twinkled amidst padded velvet, a clasp secured on one end. Engravings inlaid in a series of familiar dots and dashes; you couldn't help but softly laugh, a finger tracing the pattern.

(-... . .-.. --- ...- . -..)

Beloved.

787 notes · View notes

yourkidinthedark · 22 days ago

Text

Coffee and Close Calls

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (She/Her/Hers)

Warnings: Smut-not very detailed. Dry Humping, Making out. Reader gets Robbed. Panic Attack (reader). Minor injuries.

Summary: You work at a cafe, and the highlight of your day is when your favorite customer—James—stops in. With recent break-ins in your area leaving you terrified, he gives you his phone number in case of emergencies, and one night, in a panic, you call him. You didn't know that the man you served coffee to every day would come to your rescue as the Winter Soldier.

Word Count: 4629

Notes: I could be convinced to write a part 2, let me know if that’s something you’d like!

————————————————————————————

The café was quiet for the first time that day. It was a Friday, and they had quite the track record for being insanely busy. Not to mention, the holidays were just around the corner. Christmas shoppers had been flooding through the door all day with flushed cheeks and so many shopping bags over their arms that they were hitting door frames and tables. The sun was just teetering on the horizon as the chilly December air nipped at the tree branches on your street. You had about an hour before you had to close up shop, so you began your list of chores to tidy the café. You emptied the coffee grounds, changed all the garbage bins, wiped down all surfaces, and made sure that everything was restocked and ready to go before the morning shift.

The jingle of the door made you internally groan. There was nothing worse than a customer coming in at the last minute, especially when you had started emptying the display case, storing away the pastries for the morning. You quickly composed yourself and turned on your customer service persona.

“Hi! What can I get started for you?” you asked before your eyes even fell on the individual in front of you.

“Sorry I’m so late, Doll. I got caught up at work.”

You recognized the man instantly as your favorite customer, James. He usually came in around noon, his order the same every time: a black coffee and a plum tart, slightly heated.

“James!” you said, discarding the fakeness in your voice and flashing him a wide grin. “I thought you had forgotten to tell me you were on a business trip.”

“Ah, no,” he said, smiling and running a gloved hand through his hair. “I had to catch up on a bunch of paperwork, and I lost track of the time, but I wanted to see you before close.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” your skin ran hot. “Catch me up. How was your day?”

“Long and boring, but better now.” He flashed you his signature grin, but his eyes held a look of exhaustion that told you he had probably forgotten to eat today. You poured a coffee into a paper cup and slid it across the counter to him.

“They work you too hard,” you said as he slipped the coffee from your grasp. “Sit, let me make you something to eat, on the house.”

“You’re too good to me, Sweetheart.”

—-----------------------------------------------

You remembered the first time he came in. He looked like he had just pulled an all-nighter. It wasn't a particularly busy day, so there was no line at your counter. You took in his blue eyes and disheveled hair, and you felt a little flustered. Cheeks tinged pink, you asked,

“What can I get started for you today?”

He hesitated, just looking at you as if he looked out of place or expected you to say something else. When you didn't, he spoke.

“Uh, could I get a coffee, please?” he asked, his voice low as if he didn't want anyone else in the café to hear him.

“Sure thing!” you said, adding a bit more sweetness to your voice. “Can I get a name for the order?” With the lack of customers, you probably didn’t need to get his name for the order, but your own curiosity got the better of you.

He froze, and his eyes widened. You noticed how his tensed shoulders eased slightly as he let out a breath.

“It’s James,” he said, a soft smile toying at his lips. He pulled out his card and paid for the drink.

“Alright, James, hang tight. I’ll get that started for you.” You began filling a paper cup with the house drip. “Are you from around here or just passing by? I don't think I've seen you in here before.”

“I, uh, just got promoted at work. I moved to the head office. But I am originally from here,” he said, cringing over his words.

“Well, congrats on the promotion!” you smiled. You tightened the lid on the cup, marking his name on it with a Sharpie.

“Thanks,” he said, sheepishly. “It’s... long hours.”

You bent down to the display case and picked a plum tart, gently placing it in a wax paper bag, writing on it with your Sharpie as well. You slid the coffee and bag across the counter to him. He looked at the little white bag, confused.

“A little ‘pick-me-up,’” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter a little as the leather of his gloves grazed your fingers. “I hope to see you around.”

He flashed you a wide smile. “Thanks, uh?”

“It’s Y/N,” you said, feeling a little flustered.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

His eyes scanned you for a quick moment as if he were committing you to memory. A small smile ghosted his lips as he left the café. Glancing down at his coffee, he noticed beautiful handwriting spelling his name like artwork across the lid. And on the paper bag, you wrote a simple “Congrats” with a happy face. He stopped in every day after that, completely hooked on you.

—--------------------------------

His soft voice brought you out of the memory as your hands worked on autopilot, making up a sandwich. “You have to stop giving food away; who am I going to get my coffee from if they fire you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, shush. The owners will never miss it, and besides, you’d find another barista in seconds. This is New York; it's practically coffee paradise.”

You wrapped the sandwich in a bag and grabbed your trusty Sharpie, writing a little message on the bag and finishing it with your signature smiley face. You heard the door to the café slam open. You let out a startled scream and ducked behind the counter. James turned on a dime to the door, all his senses zeroing in, ready to attack. Instantly, he relaxed and headed to the door to close it.

“It’s okay, Doll. The wind must have caught it,” he said as he made his way over to where you were hiding. You slowly rose from your crouched position and peeked at the door. Sure enough, you and James were the only ones in the café, a trace of the heavy winter air lingering.

“Sorry, I'm just a little on edge these days. The flower shop and the bakery next door have been broken into this week alone. I guess I'm just keyed up,” you said, completely embarrassed by your sudden outburst. His eyes softened as they found your terrified ones.

“Hey, don't apologize,” he said, concern lacing his features. “Would you like me to stay until you close?” You shook your head.

“No, no, it's okay. I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll be fine.” You offered him a genuine smile, touched by his offer.

“Well, here,” he said, grabbing your marker and a napkin from the counter, “if you ever need backup, this is my number. You can call me any time, and I'll be here. I will be in Germany this weekend, but call me anyway; I know a few people who will make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture. You took the napkin he handed you and inspected the digits.

“Thanks, James, really. I’d just hate to see you get hurt, though.”

He laughed, a disbelieving but yet charmed laugh.

“I promise you, I can handle a few burglars,” he looked at you earnestly. “But seriously, if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to call me. I’ll be there. I’d even tell the pilot to turn the plane around so that I can make sure you’re alright.”

You practically melted into a puddle on the floor. You pocketed his number in your apron and thanked him again. And with that, he left.

—----------------------------------------

Your weekend went by faster than you'd like. You spent the free time you had catching up on laundry and cleaning your apartment, and before you knew it, you were back behind the counter at the café. Another shop had been broken into over the weekend, this time directly across the road from your work. You tried to push the fear out of your mind by throwing yourself into your work. It was half past noon when you looked up from the counter to meet those familiar blue eyes.

“Germany looks good on you,” you said, taking in his new stubble and black leather jacket. He chuckled, looking down sheepishly.

“God, I missed you,” he said as you worked to get his order together, completely flustered. “Do you have a minute?”

You checked the time. “Yeah, actually, I’m just about to head on break.”

You quickly made yourself something to eat and slipped into a booth with James across from you.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he said, fidgeting with his gloves. He had a look of worry painted across his face.

“What is it?” you asked softly. You could see that what he was about to say was hard for him to talk about.

“Do you remember about a year ago when the city was taken over by the void?” he said slowly, gauging your reaction.

“Yeah, I don't think I could forget that anytime soon,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “I was stuck in this trauma loop thing, and then something about the new Avengers stopped it, but now one of them was the one who caused it? It’s kind of confusing; I don't really watch the news.”

“Do you remember anything about the new Avengers?” he asked, looking at you for any sign of recognition.

“Uh, just what I’ve heard from customers here. They have a couple of super soldiers and an ex-Black Widow? I think the Black Widow is Natasha Romanoff’s sister, and one of the super soldiers is the Winter Soldier. Why the sudden interest?” James was looking at you intensely now, ignoring your question.

“You know who the Winter Soldier is?”

“Well, yeah, kind of. I mean, I know his story, but I don't keep tabs on the guy.” You looked at him closely, really closely. He radiated familiarity, but you shoved that thought to the back of your mind.

“So, you're familiar with his past?” he said gingerly.

“Yeah, James, what ar—” “Y/N, can you help me with the line?” your coworker hollered over to you. You gave James an apologetic look and told him to stay put while you helped tackle the line of customers at the counter.

Americano after espresso after cappuccino later, you glanced back to the booth where you and James had sat. The table had been cleared, and all trace of him was gone.

You thought about him all day. The conversation playing over and over in your head. Why did he have a sudden interest in the Avengers, and why was he trying to pull you out from under the rock you tucked yourself away in? In between thoughts of confusion lived the words he first spoke to you that morning: “God, I missed you.” That alone was enough to make you giggle like a schoolgirl all afternoon. You decided that you were going to make a point tomorrow to outright ask him what he needed to tell you and apologize for your coworker whisking you away.

Soon enough, the rush of people faded away with the last streaks of daylight, and you were closing up shop. You turned your key in the lock of the door to the café and turned on your heel, the bite from the winter air pricking at your cheeks. You were only a few shops down the street when you heard a quiet shuffling from the dark alleyway that separated your café and the flower shop next door. You spared a quick glance and saw two figures emerge from the shadows and walk slowly behind you.

You felt fear bubble up in your throat, but you tried not to panic just yet. You crossed the street quickly, trying to gauge if they were actually following you, and soon enough, they mirrored your actions. You rounded a corner, taking a sharp right, and they did the same. The panic set in full force now. You walked faster, trying to radiate false confidence but failing miserably. You threw your hands in your pockets to try and find anything that you could use as a weapon to defend yourself. That's when you remembered the napkin resting in your apron pocket. You had put James’ number in your phone, but you couldn't part with his messy handwriting scribbled across the napkin. You didn't hesitate; you pulled out your phone and pressed his contact. He answered on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said sternly into the phone.

“I—uh—this—this is Y/N.” Your voice came out broken. His tone immediately softened.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I—I didn't know who else to call. You said to call you if I needed help. I'm being followed, and I’m really scared,” you said rushed, tears hot on your face despite the cold night air.

“Where are you?” he asked quickly, and you could hear shuffling on his end of the line.

“I’m just a couple of shops down from the café, around the corner by the bank,” you whispered, praying that someone, anyone would turn the corner and help you.

“Y/N, I'm going to need you to stay on the line with me until I get to you.”

“O-okay, I’ll try,” you stammered, glancing back. They were beginning to gain on you, and you noticed an extra figure join them. “There’s another one.”

You had never felt so panicked in your life. The white-hot fear enveloped your body, and you felt the blood rush from your face. Your mind began thinking of all the possibilities that could happen if they caught up to you.

“Just keep talking to me, Doll,” he said as you heard another noise. Was that metal? You thought to yourself. “How was work?”

“It-it was f-fine. I'm sorry I got pulled a-away from you,” you said as you once again quickened your pace. The men behind you followed suit. Another loud clang came from James’ end of the phone.

“Don’t apologize. I panicked, Doll; I shouldn't have left.” You heard the sound of wind rushing through the phone.

You were just about to respond when you felt a hand grip your wrist, causing you to drop your phone. You screamed as the other two men swarmed you and dragged you into an adjacent alleyway. James screamed your name into the phone, but he was met with sickening silence.

You kicked, scratched, and fought back as hard as you could, but eventually, two of the men held you back as the third one approached you.

“You're a feisty one,” he spoke. His voice was slimy and smelled like cigarette smoke. “You’re going to cooperate now, though, and you’re going to give us everything of value, and then we will THINK about letting you go—” The man was cut off. A metal arm grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to the ground with so much force you were surprised the asphalt didn't crack. The men released you to help fight off the assailant. You flattened yourself against the wall, trying to stay out of the way of the fight. You may not have been up to date with the most recent news, but you knew that there was only one person with that kind of metal arm, but you couldn't piece together why he would be here and helping you.

That’s when you saw his face. Those familiar blue eyes that always found yours with kindness and admiration were now replaced with snow and sleet. James stood before you as the Winter Soldier. He grabbed one of the men by the throat and threw him against the concrete wall. He fell to the ground with a thud. The other man, realizing who he was, threw his hands up.

“Hey man, I didn’t know she was your girl,” the guy tried to reason, but James stared at him as if his gaze could turn him to stone.

“It doesn't matter who she is,” he said, slowly advancing toward the guy. The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. James laughed.

“You’re going to need more than a knife to fight me off, pal.” He grabbed the man’s hand that held the knife and broke it. Metal crushing bone echoed off the alley walls. He screamed and dropped to his knees as James picked the knife up and pocketed it.

Scrambling, the three attackers bolted toward the mouth of the alley. Your labored breathing brought his attention back, and he was on you in an instant.

“Are you hurt, Doll? I’m so sorry.” His eyes scanned you rapidly. You had a cut on your lip and a scrape on your cheek, but otherwise, you had no major injuries. You slid down the wall your back was resting against, and James knelt down beside you. The weight of what just happened set in, and you began hyperventilating.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he said gently. His flesh hand grabbed yours, and he placed it on his chest. “Just breathe with me.”

Tears and choked sobs wracked your body as you tried your best to follow his motions. Eventually, you were able to calm down enough to speak.

“T-thank you,” you whispered, your voice raw and grating. “For saving me.” His heart clenched at how broken you sounded.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, still holding your hand. “It took every bit of strength I had not to kill those guys as soon as I got my hands on them.”

You made a half-hearted attempt at a joke. “I don’t think the higher-ups would like to hear that their lead Avenger killed three men in an alleyway.”

His eyes found yours, and a bit of fear swam in them. “You know,” he breathed, brows creasing.

“Metal arm gave it away. The thought also crossed my mind from our conversation earlier.”

“Are you—are you okay with it? I can understand if you don't want me coming around again; I mean, I've done al—” He stammered nervously.

“Of course, I’m okay with it. I know your story, and I know you didn't have a choice. And besides, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you stopped coming into the café.” You touched his arm reassuringly, and the cold metal was freezing against your fingers. That's when you realized he wasn't wearing a coat. “Oh my God, you must be cold! My apartment isn't far; we should get you warmed up,” you fretted, rising to your feet.

“You just found out that I’m the Winter Soldier, and you’re worried that I’m cold?” He laughed in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. You’re out here because of me.” He shook his head and stepped closer.

“You’re impossible,” he chuckled, looking at you with adoration. “I promise you my only concern is that you’re okay. And besides, I don’t get cold easily.” His fingers brushed your cheeks gently, taking in the sight of your injuries. “We should get you looked after.”

You stayed close to him on your walk back to your apartment. You were practically clinging to him. You told him it was to keep him warm, but he could feel the way you were trembling, even if you tried to hide it.

You unlocked your door and led him into your place, quickly locking the door behind him. You grabbed his hand and led him to your kitchen, motioning for him to have a seat at your island counter. You started rooting around the cupboards.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“I’m making coffee,” you stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What? Doll, you’re hurt; we need to look after your injuries,” he said, standing and making his way over to you.

“I don’t know how to process what just happened, but I do know how to make coffee, so that’s what I’m doing.” You said gently, feeling your wrists stopped by his steady hands.

“I know what happened to you was terrifying, and you’re still in shock, but please, let me help you.” He brought you over to the chair you told him to sit in and guided you down onto it. “Can you tell me where you keep your first aid supplies?”

You hesitated; you weren’t used to someone trying to take care of you. And James looked at you so softly, as if he were afraid you were going to break. You gave in.

“They are under the bathroom sink,” you mumbled, motioning vaguely to your hallway. He was gone and back in an instant, your first aid kit in his hands. He set it on the counter and began rifling through it until he found some alcohol and gauze.

“This is going to sting a little, Doll. I promise I’ll be quick.” You gave him a small nod, and he pressed the cotton to your cheek. You flinched at the pain, and he felt his heart crack. “I know, I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

When he was satisfied, he moved to your lip. Thankfully for you, he switched to saline as he determined the cut wasn’t as bad. His eyes were trained and focused as he worked. Your cheeks flushed. He was so close, and you could smell the earthy scent of him. He looked up from your lip and caught you staring. You quickly looked away and pretended to be extremely interested in your wall clock all of a sudden. He smirked at you, going back to work.

“When you said you were on business trips, were you actually on missions fighting bad guys?” you asked, trying not to pry, but curiosity was eating you alive. He chuckled at your choice of words.

“Yeah,” he said, giving you a quizzical look. “You really didn’t know who I was until tonight?”

“No, I mean, I kind of assumed you were a pretty important person, but I didn’t know who exactly. I really try to stay away from the news; it just makes me depressed.” You said, causing him to laugh. “And by the way, I’m still calling you James.”

“That’s why I like you; you don’t treat me any differently. You like me for me, not just who people want me to be.” You held onto the meaning of his words, savoring them.

He held your chin in his hand, tilting your head slightly to make sure you had no other injuries.

“I think I can clear you as my patient.” He pulled away, and you already missed him being close to you. He started packing away the medical supplies in your med kit, but you grabbed his arm.

“James,” you said, his blue eyes finding yours. “Thank you for taking the time to help me. I’m sure there are more important things that you’ve got to do.”

“Doll, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

And those were the words that cut the last thread you were so desperately clinging onto. You stood up on your toes, your hand resting on the back of his neck. You were an inch from his face, and you paused for a moment, giving him the freedom to pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, you felt his arms grab your hips securely, pulling you closer. You leaned up and connected your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. You both moved slowly, lips mirroring each other's movements, savoring the taste, the feeling. The butterflies in your stomach brushed upon a sensation that you could feel growing by the second. Your hands trailed down his back, tracing along his muscles, committing them to memory like sacred text.

He pulled away slightly and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on.” You let out a breathless laugh, kissing him again, but this time, you didn’t hold back.

He kissed you harder and hungrier than before. He kissed you for selfish want, and you gave him everything you had. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you happily obliged. You felt drunk off him; everything about him filled your senses, and you loved it.

He pulled off your mouth, trailing hot-breathed kisses down your jaw and neck. He hit a spot just under your jaw that elicited a lewd moan from your lips. The sound lit something in him, and with one swift movement, he picked you up and placed you on the counter like you weighed nothing. That alone could have made you come undone right then and there. He positioned himself between your thighs, lips catching yours once again in a heated kiss. You arched your back as you snaked your leg around him, begging for him to be closer to you—no, needing him to be closer to you. His fingers rested on your hip just under the hem of your shirt, the cool metal flush against your hot skin sent goosebumps up your spine. His other hand, on your thigh, dangerous and waiting.

He wanted to lay you down and have his way with you right there in your kitchen. He was raised to take a girl out to dinner first, but God, you broke all his restraint with your pretty eyes and infectious kindness. The first day he met you at the café, he knew he was screwed. He tried so damn hard to admire from afar, but he just kept coming back to you. On the days he could see you, he was happier, more chipper, so much so that his team started to notice. Everything about you made him better. He just wished that the events leading up to this moment didn’t happen the way they did. But here you were now, drinking him in like chilled Chardonnay.

Your hand gripped his black crew neck shirt as you breathed him in. Your hips shifting closer to the edge of the table brushed against his, causing a low moan to escape his lips. You could feel how badly he wanted you, and that brought out a dark, mischievous side of you.

You moved again, this time more deliberate, lustful. The contact where you needed him most causing your eyes to flutter in pleasure. He panted hot breath on your skin, and you kept going, moaning his name like a prayer. His breaths became more shallow and frequent. You could tell he was close. You pulled away from him, whispering in his ear.

“The bedroom is down the hall, Soldier.”

He picked you up from the counter and carried you bridal-style down the hall. You couldn’t contain your giggles as he pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

He threw you on your bed as he hovered over you, dog tags dangling in front of your face. You reached up and gently pulled them down, connecting his lips with yours again.

That night, under the chill of the New York skyline, you gave yourself completely to him. In a haze of discarded clothing and soft, begging pants, you let yourself feel him entirely. James didn’t fuck you; he made love to you. He explored you and took note of what you liked, what made you beg for more, what left you breathless, and what made you weak.

You fell asleep next to him, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. That night, you had never felt so safe, so protected, and so loved in the arms of James Bucky Barnes.

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rootedinrevisions · 9 months ago

Text

Enough for You: Part 2

SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.

WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog

The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.

After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”

Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”

You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.

Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.

The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”

Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?

“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”

The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.

As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.

Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.

The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.

It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.

The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.

Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.

“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.

Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.

Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.

How had he been so blind?

He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.

Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”

Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.

He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.

He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”

He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.

The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.

Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.

He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.

His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?

He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.

Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.

He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.

Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.

But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.

His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?

His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.

The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.

Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."

Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.

Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."

Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.

Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"

Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.

"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"

Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."

Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"

He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.

Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"

Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."

Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."

Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."

Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"

Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."

Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.

But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?

Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.

Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options

He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.

He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.

You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.

For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.

Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."

You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.

A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.

The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before.

His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.

Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.

He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.

When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.

The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.

You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.

As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.

“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.

You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.

After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”

You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.

When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.

“Noted.”

It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.

“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”

You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.

“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”

You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”

Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.

You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.

“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”

You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”

His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”

Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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