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heethera · 2 days ago

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˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

➜ summary: jay’s always had everything. you were just the girl who followed him around until you became the one thing he couldn’t let go.

pairing: pjs x f!reader, wc: 16k words , genre: best friends to lovers, rich!jay, fluff, a wee lil angst w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing

When you were eight, your pet fish died. Jay, being the perfect friend, snuck out of his house, hoodie zipped up to his nose, and stood outside your door with a juice box and a Pokémon sticker. He didn’t say anything, just left them there with a note that read: “U ken yoos the stikr four yur dairi.”

He wasn’t the best speller, but he was the best friend you could ever ask for.

When you were thirteen, you stayed up until 3 a.m. on the phone, ranting about how some snotty new transfer from Australia, Sim Jaeyun said your feet looked “weirdly shaped.” Jay spent an hour trying to convince you that Jaeyun had a thumb that looked like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and couldn’t tell a mermaid from a fish so he didn’t deserve to have opinions.

When you turned seventeen, Jay gave you his favourite hoodie before flying to Seattle for a month to visit his relatives. You wore it religiously while he was gone, just to feel a little closer to him.

And till now somehow, Jay still orbited your everyday life.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up, eyes fixed on some game playing on the TV.

“I wasn’t even supposed to come today.”

“But you did,” he replied, finally turning to glance at you. His grin was lazy, a little smug. “Couldn’t stay away from The Jonginator 3000.”

“Gross,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Please never call yourself ever that again.”

You crossed the room and dropped onto the other end of the couch, knees curling up beside you as your shoulder brushed his. Jay made space for you without saying anything.

“Here,” you muttered, digging through your tote bag and tossing a bag of chips his way.

He caught it one-handed. “Oh, how you spoil me.”

“Well, that’s because you’re unbearable when you’re hungry.”

“And equally as charming when I’m full,” he added with a wink.

You bit back a smile, tilting your head with mock thoughtfulness. “Hm… I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate,” you said.

You liked to believe your friendship with Jay could weather even the strongest storms but lately, you weren’t so sure.

It wasn’t that anything had gone terribly wrong.

It was quieter than that. Slightly more subtle? Things had just… started to change. Not in ways you could clearly name, but in the little things.

You and Jay were friends. Best of friends, even.

Your mum had worked for his family for almost a decade, taking care of his grandmother, the same woman you’d come to call Grandma, too. Jay never minded. His grandmother never corrected you. If anything, she loved it. Jay was an only child, and without a granddaughter of her own, she’d folded you into her life without hesitation.

His family had always been kind. They treated your mum with respect, and you never felt looked down on.

But lately, something had started to shift. Nothing harsh or particularly cruel. Just… small things, little things you were starting to piece together.

Maybe it was the way people talked about the future now about colleges, cities, careers. Plans that didn’t involve waking up in your childhood bedroom. Plans that didn’t include walking into Jay’s room, knocking once before flopping onto his bed to rant about terrible Netflix documentaries you’d force him to watch.

But most of all, they were plans that didn’t include both of you.

Maybe it was the realisation that Jay was heading somewhere you couldn’t afford to follow.

And maybe Jay was starting to realise that too.

You loved him. Almost too much. You didn’t like putting a label on it. Romantic, platonic, it didn’t matter. All you knew was that he made you laugh when you wanted to cry, and he made you smile when you were knee-deep in anger.

And losing that? Losing him? Somehow, that scared you more than anything.

You’d left for the bathroom a little over five minutes ago, but it took nearly three just to get back to Jay’s room.

You were about to push open the door, fully prepared to return and absolutely obliterate him in the game you’d been playing, when you heard a voice.

“Baby,” his mum said gently.

You froze. Your hand hovered just above the doorknob. Something about her tone stopped you. It sounded serious… a little too serious for you to barge in like nothing.

So you didn’t.

You stayed where you were, just outside his door, waiting for the right moment to step in.

“Mom, I’m not going,” Jay said. You could hear the sound of him ruffling his hair, followed by a long sigh.

His mum exhaled softly. “Jong, it’s a tradition. The family went there. I went there. You—”

“I’m not going,” he repeated, firmer this time.

There was a pause.

“If this is about��” she began before letting out a deep breath. “Look, I love her. You know I do. I treat her like a daughter too, but baby, this is a big deal. You have one foot in the door and you’re throwing it all away?”

“Mom—”

“No, listen to me.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You can always come back to her, but this… this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

A long stretch of silence followed, thick and heavy, before she spoke again, softer now but still thick with tension.

“I’m not saying she isn’t good for you. She is. She’s smart, she’s pretty. She’s… kind. But do you really think the two of you have anything in common besides growing up together?”

Oh. Oh. Oh…

So this was how they saw you: not bad, not unworthy…just not enough. Not for him.

“Baby,” she said, “the two of you are on different paths and…well, Jong, you were meant for greater things. Big things.”

Through the small crack in the doorframe, you caught a glimpse of Jay, sitting on the edge of his bed, brows furrowed, elbows resting on his knees. He wasn’t answering. He looked like he was thinking about it.

That hurt more than anything.

You backed away quietly, each step careful, like even your breath might give away that you had been listening. When you reached the top of the stairs, you glanced down at your feet, your socks, mismatched and worn. They had never felt like such a statement before. And now, in this house, with its icy cold Italian marble floors, they felt impossibly…prominent.

You were rushing toward the door when something made you pause. The second living room, the one you’d always walked past, never into. You turned, just a little, just enough to see it.

The walls were lined with frames. Studio portraits of Jay and his parents, always dressed to the nines, always looking like they belonged on the cover of some high-society magazine. There were formal family shots with his extended relatives, his cousins in their prep school uniforms, their parents with Rolexes and pearl earrings, champagne glasses in hand at some gala that probably changed the world without you knowing.

Then your eyes landed on the final frame tucked in the corner.

Jay, standing beside the minister at a government scholarship ceremony. A navy suit that fit him too well. His parents beaming on either side of him. The plaque in his hand gleaming. You remembered that day vaguely, he had texted you something self-deprecating about tripping on stage. You had laughed then.

You weren’t laughing now.

Because all of it somehow was starting to feel like a mockery of just how different your worlds really were. There was a bitter sting in your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was jealousy over a life you’d never live, or the ache of knowing someone you liked so much came from a place you could never quite reach.

While Jay had birthday dinners at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, yours were made of takeout leftovers and cakes baked in a neighbor’s oven. Jay had a whole wall of proof that he belonged. And all the while, you didn’t even have matching socks.

—

Jay: Did you just leave? Without saying goodbye? 🙁

You didn’t reply.

You were too deep in your own spiral…spinning, crashing, drowning in thoughts you didn’t ask to think. His mom had been right. About everything.

She hadn’t been cruel. She hadn’t even sounded angry. Just… honest. Like a mother trying to protect her son from making a mistake. And maybe you were the mistake. You knew she liked you. You knew the whole family did. But that didn’t change the fact that you’d always been her daughter, the caregiver’s daughter. Not one of them. Not really.

And for the first time in your life, you felt it, not just the distance, but the pity. Ten years of your mom’s hard work, all the quiet pride she carried, all the long nights and it suddenly felt like none of it mattered. You were just the tagalong. A nice girl with nowhere better to be.

You were never someone in that house. You were just... there.

Your phone lit up again.

Jay: I’m coming over.

Your eyes flew open. “Damn it–” you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie.

You: Don’t.

Jay: Huh?

You: I’m fine.

Jay: But you left so soon?

You: I had to take a shit so I left.

There was a pause.

Jay: I have a bathroom, you idiot.

You: It’s too fancy. I like mine better.

Jay: LOL well at least say goodbye next time. I went around the house like an idiot looking for you for 10 whole minutes.

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. You wanted to say more.

But you didn’t want him to pity you too.

—

Jungwon stood beside you, rhythmically tapping two fingers against your back, drumming out a song only he could hear. You hunched forward at the front desk, shoulders tense, chin propped against your palm as you glared at the dusty computer monitor displaying your completely empty Tuesday schedule.

You part timed at Goober Galaxy, an indoor playground targeted for kids ages 3 and up. Today was quiet. It was the perfect shift for a breakdown. Unfortunately, Jungwon hadn’t gotten the memo.

You swatted his hand away without even turning around. “Cut it out.”

He laughed, and leaned over the counter so that his chin now rested on his folded arms beside yours. “I’m bored,” he declared, eyes scanning your blank expression.

“Then go find something to do.”

“I like bothering you,” he said with a smile.

You turned to glare at him, grabbing the nearest pencil and holding it up like a weapon. “I’ll stab you with this.”

“Ooh, how scary,” he said, grinning wider.

“Shut up.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out as sharp as it did. Jungwon blinked, his smile faltering just a little but only for a second. You dropped the pencil back onto the desk and folded your arms, slumping deeper into your chair. You’d been like this all day: distracted, fogged over, stuck in your own head with thoughts of you and Jay.

It’d been two days since you left Jay’s house without saying goodbye. Two days since you’d heard his mother’s voice echoing in the hallway, reminding him that people like you didn’t belong in their world.

He’d been texting you ever since. But every time your phone lit up with his name, your heart clenched so hard it made you nauseous. You couldn’t answer. Not when you didn’t know how to exist next to him without feeling small.

You didn’t realize Jungwon had moved until he dropped onto the beanbag beside your stool with a dramatic huff, his legs splayed out in front of him, head tilted toward you.

“Okay,” he said, “seriously. Who is it?”

You didn’t answer.

“Come on,” he continued, tapping his foot against your shoe. “Tell the master of Women who has you acting up like this.”

“I highly doubt you even know what a woman is.”

You let out a breath through your nose and glanced at him. Jungwon’s dark hair tousled from where he’d been running his hand through it, polo shirt wrinkled, name tag barely hanging on. He was annoying and loud. But he was also one of the only people who understood what it meant to want more than you were allowed to have. You both had jobs instead of highly paid tutors, worn-out sneakers instead of new ones, savings goals that felt like they’d never be reached.

He didn’t know what was wrong. Not exactly. But he knew enough to ask.

Still, your voice caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud: I overheard Jay’s mom say I don’t belong in his world and I think she’s right and now I can’t even look at him without wanting to cry.

So instead, you mumbled, “It’s nothing.”

Jungwon didn’t push. He just leaned back with a sigh and said, “You know I’ll keep annoying you until you tell me, right?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know.”

He grinned. “Cool. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

You sighed then tilted your head toward him, your voice quiet. “D’you ever think we’ll be bigger than we are right now?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “I mean… I heard Mr. Kim say we stop growing after we turn 18, but I’m not too sure.” He tilted his head dramatically, thinking hard. “Though… I have been drinking more milk lately so all fingers crossed!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant! I meant... just us. Will we ever be bigger than this? Than who we are now?”

He looked at you, his smile fading into something gentler. You didn’t usually say things like this. “Like... spiritually? Emotionally? Or like tax bracket-wise?”

You stared at him flatly.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, raising both hands in surrender. “I get it. You mean like, in the world.”

You nodded slowly, your voice tightening. “I mean…look at us….We’re just... two kids. Two random people in this giant fuckin’ world. And there are people out there who are so much bigger than us. So much more important. Doing things that matter. And we’re just here. Doing this.”

Jungwon leaned his head back against the beanbag, legs stretched out in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling for a long moment before shrugging. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I like where I am.”

You glanced at him, brows furrowed. “You like working for scraps?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Well... it’s a Tuesday afternoon, and I’m hanging out with the prettiest girl I know. So yeah. Not bad.”

You shoved his shoulder, trying not to smile. “Be serious, Won.”

His expression softened then, all teasing drained out of it. He shifted to face you more fully, his voice quieter. “Okay. You’re upset. And since it’s you, and you don’t get like this unless it’s something big, I’m guessing this is about Jay.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Jungwon reached out and gently poked your forehead. “Then let me say this clearly: you need to stop letting that big, overthinking brain of yours spiral.”

You exhaled shakily.

“I know Jay. Not like you do, obviously,” he added with a small grin, “but well enough. And I know, for a fact, that Jay doesn’t give a single fuck that we’re working at...” He looked around and grimaced. “Goober Fuckin’ Galaxy.”

You laughed.

“I’m serious,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “That guy looks at you like you invented…I don’t know…the freaking internet? It clearly doesn’t matter what job you have, or where you come from. You’re not small to him. Not to me. Not to Hee. Not to any of us.”

You didn’t reply, but something in your chest eased…just a little.

The bell above the entrance gave its usual pathetic worn out ding, but you didn’t look up…no one came to Goober Galaxy on a Tuesday. That was the whole point of working Tuesdays.

“Uh oh,” he muttered beside you, sitting up from his beanbag.

“What?” you asked, barely glancing over.

“Lover boy incoming.”

Your brows knit together as you turned and froze.

Jay was standing in the entrance, chest rising like he’d sprinted from the subway (which he’s probably never taken), hair tousled in that way that looked both accidental and annoyingly perfect. In one hand, he held a bouquet of white daisies wrapped in soft brown paper. In the other, a box of chocolates with a ribbon tied so tight it was starting to crumple the corner.

And then you noticed it, the faint red splotches blooming across his knuckles, creeping up his wrist. His grip didn’t falter. Jay was allergic to flowers. You’d known that since forever, since the day he sneezed through an entire spring picnic and blamed the pollen for his watery eyes.

Your heart twisted.

Suddenly, you felt awful. And soft. And maybe a little bit in love all over again.

He walked straight toward you, eyes never leaving your face, and you hated the way your breath caught.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, completely thrown. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, pushing the flowers into your hands like they might prove his sincerity. “I don’t know what I did. But whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t even realize something was wrong until you stopped replying and then I thought maybe it was something I said or maybe I looked at you weird and—”

“Jay—”

“I was going to come yesterday, but I didn’t want to be pushy. And then I tried calling again this morning but I figured maybe you were busy—”

“Jay.”

He finally paused, breath short, his eyes scanning your face with desperation. And just like that, your chest ached in another way.

He didn’t know. He thought he did something wrong. And he came all the way here just to apologize for a mistake he didn’t even understand.

You looked down at the daisies, hands curling around the brown paper. The stems were still wet. Fresh, which means he got the flowers that day.

God, he was sweet. Stupidly, painfully sweet.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon cleared his throat loudly from behind the counter. “Sooooo,” he drawled. “You got her flowers and chocolates? What do I get?”

Jay turned to look at him with the flattest, most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. Without a word, he reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out a single crumpled bill, and tossed it onto the counter.

“A dollar,” he said.

Jungwon stared at it. “That’s it?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t give you lint from my pocket.”

“Then…I’ll just have the dollar.” Jungwon muttered, pocketing the dollar.

Jay turned back to you, lips parted like he wanted to say more but the words didn’t come.

Jungwon hadn’t moved.

He was still standing there, hovering way too close, arms crossed, eyes bouncing between you and Jay like he was watching the tension build. His eyes crossing between you and Jay’s a silly grin on his stupid face.

You shot him a look. “Can you get lost?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “It’s Tuesday. I’m bored. I wanna see how this plays out.”

“You want entertainment?”

“Desperately.”

You sighed through your nose, then shoved the box of chocolates into his chest without looking. “Here. Take this. Go sit in the ball pit and eat this.”

He stared at the box, then back at you. “These are from him, though.”

“I don’t care. Just go.”

A smug smile bloomed on his face as he clutched the box. “You know what? Say less.”

And with that, he strolled off, climbing into the nearest corner of a giant ball pit, where he immediately sprawled across the plastic balls.

You turned back to Jay, your eyes flicking upward to meet his.

He was still watching you, brows drawn just slightly. His arms were at his sides now, hands twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or give you space. He didn’t know what he’d done, but he knew something had changed. And it was killing him.

You looked at the flowers still in your hands. You looked back at him. You weren’t sure which one made your chest hurt more.

So you said it.

“I heard what your mom said that day.”

His entire expression shifted subtly. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to,” you added, softer now. “I was coming back to the room and I just… I overheard the entire conversation.”

Jay’s shoulders tensed. He looked down for a second, then up again, jaw clenched, eyes searching your face.

You swallowed. “I wasn’t avoiding you because I was mad. I just… I don’t know...I didn’t know how to act.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just blinked slowly, like the words were still settling into place.

“Look,” Jay said finally, his voice low but firm, “you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going anywhere—”

“Jay,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you meant, “I’m not worried about that.”

You looked down, fingers tightening around the bouquet of daisies in your hands. The stems crinkled slightly in your grip.

“I’m not mad about what she said,” you said quietly. “I’m just... she’s right.”.

His mouth opened slightly, brows drawing together like he didn’t understand how those words could’ve come from you. His chest rose as if to argue, but he didn’t speak yet. He couldn’t.

You lifted your gaze slowly, and your throat burned. “She’s right, Jay. We don’t have anything in common besides growing up together.”

He shook his head immediately, stepping closer. “You’re more than what she said—”

“Jay,” you said again, this time with a bitter laugh laced into it, “who are we kidding?”

He sighed when you cut him off.

“I work in a stupid kids’ playground called Goober Galaxy. You’re in every high-end after school academy, tutoring centre, test prep institute money can buy. You’re made to get straight A’s, made to end up at some fancy university. Made to do something big. I’m not.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, his voice cracking just barely at the edges. “Do you think I ever looked at you and saw anything less?”

Jay exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “I’ve liked you since the day you showed up behind your mom in that stupid little yellow dress you hated. You were hiding behind her, and God—” he let out a soft laugh, almost breathless, “The moment you sat beside me, you punched me in the shoulder and said I had a dumb name. I’ve liked you since then.”

Your eyes fluttered up to glance at him, but only for a second, before dropping back to your shoes. He reached out gently, fingers brushing under your chin, and tilted your face toward his.

“I loved that version of you,” he said, eyes locked onto yours. “I love this version of you. I’ve never thought you were less than me. Not even once. It’s always been you.”

The silence that followed clung to the air, thick and trembling.

You stared at him, barely breathing, barely able to believe this was real.

“Jay–”

“UH GUYS, CAN I COME OUT NOW?” Jungwon’s voice rang out, followed by a hacking cough. “I THINK I SWALLOWED THE RIBBON.”

You almost burst into laughter. Almost.

But instead, you did the one thing you’d been aching to do for far too long.

You leaned forward over the counter and kissed him.

Jay froze for just a split second, stunned. His hand hovered uncertainly beside you, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. But his eyes fluttered shut, and when you pulled away, his lips chased yours like he didn’t want it to end.

His cheeks flushed immediately. He laughed softly, a little dazed. “I didn’t think today would end up like this.”

You smirked. “Do you want me to take it back?”

He shook his head quickly, still smiling. “No. I just... I wish it wasn’t in front of—”

The both of you turned.

Jungwon was now sitting fully upright in the ball pit, legs criss-crossed, waving at you. A half-eaten piece of chocolate dangled from his fingers.

“I think I’m the first person to ever witness a love confession in Goober Galaxy,” he said. “A sentence that has never, ever been said before in the history of mankind.”

Jay groaned and dropped his head onto the counter with a thud. “Why are you like this?”

He tilted his head, beaming like he’d just officiated a wedding. “So… can I come out now?”

You and Jay both answered without missing a beat.

“No.”

—

The two of you had been dating for a whole month now and sneaking around had become a normal occurrence for the two of you.

A month of stolen glances, hushed giggles, and kisses behind closed doors. You came over under the same old pretense, “I’m just hanging out at Jay’s while waiting for Mom to finish work”. It was familiar. There was nothing to question.

Except now, every time you stepped into his room, the door clicked shut behind you and the rest of the world disappeared.

You’d start out pretending to study. Laptops open, notebooks flipped to blank pages, a pencil stuck behind your ear. Jay would sit beside you, his knee pressed against yours, trying really hard for maybe ten minutes. And then he’d look over.

You’d barely meet his eyes before his lips were on yours.

Usually, soft first then it goes deeper, slower, the kind of kissing that made you forget what time it was. It’d be 4:30 one moment and 6:00 the next. He’d push your hair behind your ear, you’d tug lightly on his hoodie, and the math textbook between you would be quietly shoved to the floor by someone’s feet.

It always ended the same way. A knock at the door. Your mom’s voice floating in, “Come on, time to head home!”

You’d jolt apart, breathless, cheeks burning, smoothing out your hair and reaching blindly for a notebook. “Okay!” you’d call out, voice a little too high. Jay would flop back onto his bed, dramatic and pouty.

Your mom would open the door, glance in, see the two of you surrounded by notes and open textbooks, and nod. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

“Just five more minutes,” you’d reply automatically.

She’d leave. And before you could even stand, Jay would hook a finger through your sleeve and pull you gently back down.

One last kiss. And then another. And then five more, because he always said one wasn’t enough. He’d press them to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, grinning like an idiot.

“Do you really have to go?” he’d mumble, arms still around you.

“She’s literally my ride home.”

“I could give you a ride.”

You snorted and leaned back just enough to look at him. “You got your license like... five minutes ago.”

“Exactly. I’m freshly certified. I’m a responsible driver.”

“Jay,” you said flatly, “I heard what grandma said about you hitting the curb”

Jay groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “What a snitch.”

You laughed, pulling away gently as you stood up. “That’s a no, by the way. You’re not driving me home.”

Jay pouted, tugging lightly on your hand. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you. I just wanna go home in one piece tonight.”

Still pouting, he leaned up and kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “One day you’ll be begging me for a ride.”

“Sure. The day you stop kissing the curb.”

—

It was another ordinary day, or at least it had started that way. You were in Jay’s room, lying beside him with your head propped on your hand, half-listening to him ramble about something stupid Heeseung had texted. His hand was resting on your knee, your fingers loosely interlocked until the knock came.

The door creaked open a second later.

“Oh,” his mother said, her smile soft but surprised. “You’re here.”

You sat up immediately, your hand slipping out of his. You nodded politely, reaching for your bag even though you weren’t meant to leave for another hour. What used to feel like home now made your shoulders tense. Jay noticed. Of course he did.

“Are you staying for dinner?” his mother asked, stepping inside like she always had.

You shook your head quickly. “No. I was actually just about to leave.”

“So soon?” she pouted slightly. “You haven’t eaten dinner with us in a while.”

“I just have a lot of homework to get through,” you replied with a rehearsed smile, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You turned to Jay, silently asking if he’d stop you, if he’d ask you to stay. But he saw it. The unease in your body, the way your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you back down and kiss the worry out of your forehead. But he didn’t.

He just nodded. Smiled like it didn’t hurt.

“Go,” he said gently.

And so you did.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Jay stood there for a beat, staring at the closed space you’d just filled. Then he turned back, meeting his mother’s gaze across the room.

She crossed her arms. “Is something wrong?” she asked, frowning now. “She hasn’t stayed for dinner in almost two months.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.”

“I think there is.”

Jay exhaled, his jaw tight. And he hated it…hated how something that was once easy had turned into this sharp-edged discomfort. How your laughter had grown quieter. How he had to love you in secret all because the life carved out for him didn’t have room for anything outside of perfect.

Over the past two months, Jay had started to feel something sour curling inside him. A quiet resentment. Not towards you. Never you. But toward everything else. Toward the silent expectation to carry generations of ambition on his back. He loved his mother, God, he really did. But that love didn’t soften the frustration. It didn’t erase how badly things had shifted between you both since that night.

He had so many things to be grateful for. But all he’d ever really wanted was you. Just to be by your side. And somehow, even that felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have.

“Mom, drop it,” he said, voice flat.

She frowned, stepping further into the room. “Jongseong, you’ve been acting different since the day—”

“That’s because I’ve been talking, and you haven’t been listening,” he snapped.

Her expression faltered. “What do you want me to do, Jong? Your dad and I have worked tirelessly for this opportunity—”

“That I didn’t ask for!” His voice cracked, hands clenched at his sides.

“You are going to that university. It’s in your blood. It’s good for you. And deep down, you know it too. If I told her how important this is, how good it is for you, I’m pretty sure she’d be supportive.”

“Don’t tell her.”

She froze.

“Baby—”

“Don’t. Tell. Her.” he repeated, each word heavier than the last.

His mother blinked, visibly thrown by his tone. And Jay just stood there, chest heaving, trying to hold back the rest of the words rising in his throat. Because if he said more, he wasn’t sure what would come out.

He just knew this: She wasn’t allowed to take you from him, too.

—

The two of you had wandered into a small alleyway market off the main district, less glossy, more charm. Little stalls lined both sides, selling handmade accessories, mismatched shoes, thrifted bags with peeling zippers, and the kind of bracelets that cost just enough to mean something, but not enough to break a wallet.

You stopped in front of a table full of them, rows of braided cords, beaded charms, faded ribbons wrapped around thin, bendy wire. You held up one with small star-shaped beads, smiling a little to yourself.

Jay hovered beside you, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes scanning the stall. “You sure you want one of these?” he asked, not unkindly, just confused. “There’s a place down the street that does custom silver bands. We can go there. I’ll pay.”

You shook your head immediately, the smile slipping off your face. “I don’t want anything too expensive,” you said quietly. “I just want something pretty.”

Jay frowned. “Yeah, but we could get something prettier. Something that’ll last. I just—why not get something better?”

You didn’t say anything at first, just lowered your hand. Something in your chest twisted. He didn’t mean anything by it. You knew that. But it still hit the wrong nerve.

You turned to him, jaw tightening. “Just because I’m buying cheaper things doesn’t mean they’re ass, Jay.”

He blinked, startled. “I didn’t even mean it that way,” he said, voice low but tense. “I just meant—if there’s something you want, I’ll get it for you. That’s all. You don’t have to—”

“I don’t want anything,” you cut in, too fast, too sharp. “Not with your money.”

The silence that followed was instant.

Jay’s brows lifted slightly. He’d been reaching for your hand without even realizing it, but at that, he pulled back. Just a fraction. Just enough to make your heart drop. His expression didn’t shift much, just the tiniest flicker of hurt. But that was worse. You could tell when he was trying not to show it.

You reached for him quickly, fingers wrapping around his hand before he could pull away further. Your grip tightened, desperate.

“I’m sorry,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t mean it. I just—sometimes I feel weird. I don’t know.”

Jay looked at you for a long moment. And then, wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms.

Your face pressed against his chest, your fists gripped onto the fabric of his hoodie. He didn’t say anything.

“I just want to give you everything,” he whispered after a long silence.

And even though your throat burned, you didn’t cry. You just nodded, clinging to him.

—

Jay stared long and hard at the framed certificates on the wall of his father’s office.

He’d been sitting there ever since he got back from your little date.

You’d cried for almost 30 minutes before finally falling asleep on his shoulder. He’d felt every quiet sob, the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Like being with him hurt.

He knew you loved him. God, he loved you just as much, probably more. But seeing you in that much pain simply because the two of you came from different worlds made his chest ache.

He didn’t care about any of it. Not the money. Not the future his parents had mapped out. Not the name on the wall in front of him.

But you did.

He didn’t know how to fix it. How to make you believe you were never less than him. That you’d always been the best part of his world.

“Jong?”

Jay’s head snapped up. His mother stood at the door, peeking through. He cleared his throat and quickly wiped away a single tear he hadn’t realised had fallen.

“Mom,” he said, nodding stiffly.

He hadn’t spoken to her since the last time she tried to push him into going.

Jay had already made peace with attending a good university in Korea. One that meant a thirty-minute drive from you. One that didn’t require a time zone between your hands. He didn’t care about prestige. He didn’t need legacy. He just needed you.

Because no place could feel like home unless you were there.

He wanted a small, lived-in apartment where the walls were filled with pictures of the two of you, some crooked, some blurry, all perfect. He wanted late mornings and lazy nights, strumming his guitar while you sat on his lap, flipping through TV channels.

He didn’t want boardrooms. He wanted breakfast in bed. He wanted you in his hoodie, laughing at something stupid, your legs tangled with his on the couch. He wanted to choose that life.

He just didn’t know how because his life wasn’t his.

His parents were successful, respectable, powerful, intimidating in every room they walked into. And Jay? He was their only child. The heir. The one meant to carry it all.

He didn’t want to seem ungrateful. He knew he was lucky. But sometimes…he wished he was at Goober Galaxy right next to you. Sweeping floors, handing out stickers, chasing after toddlers. Living the kind of life he got to choose.

He wished he could trade places with Jungwon, just for a moment. To know what it felt like to live freely, to love without strings.

But he wasn’t Jungwon.

He was stuck. Caged by expectations that didn’t belong to him. And no one had asked if he wanted them.

“Your dad wants to see you.”

Jay blinked. His mother was still standing in the doorway, phone in hand, the screen already lit up with a call. He swallowed. She passed it to him without another word.

Jay sat up straighter, the back of his neck already tensing as he accepted the phone. His father's face filled the screen, sharp suit, crisp tie, backdrop of a sleek conference room somewhere in Hong Kong. The time zone difference didn't matter. His father always made time when it came to lectures.

“Jongseong,” his father began without pleasantries, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s this I hear about you not wanting to attend Oxford?”

Jay opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He glanced at the wall, at the same framed degree he’d been staring at moments earlier, and felt the familiar weight return to his chest.

With his mother, he always knew what to say. How to deflect, how to counter her logic with his own. But with his father… it was different.

With his father, Jay always felt like a little boy again.

Like he wasn’t the man of the house, but a kid sitting at the edge of a chair too big for him, trying not to swing his legs.

With his father gone so often, Jay had stepped into the role by default…holding things down, keeping things quiet, managing expectations. But every time his dad reappeared, even just through a screen, it was like the years peeled off and left him exposed.

He felt his mouth go dry. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the phone.

“I’ve… decided not to go,” he said finally, voice quiet but steady.

There was a pause. A beat of silence that buzzed louder than any scolding.

“Decided?” his father repeated, eyes narrowing. “Jong, we don’t just decide things. You know that.”

His voice rose, firm and cold.

“We’re not like anyone else. Do you understand that? You don’t get to just throw away opportunities people would kill for.”

Jay swallowed again, throat tight. He wanted to argue. He wanted to say I don’t want it. I never did. But the words sat heavy in his chest, unmoving.

He didn’t want any of it. But how could he say that to a man who had spent his entire life building it?

“I—”

“Son,” his father’s voice dropped, deeper now, tinged with concern. “I didn’t… we didn’t build this by making decisions that went against our family. We built this by honouring tradition. By upholding it.”

“Dad—”

“We’re not just… anyone, Jongseong. You have to remember that. Even when it comes to the people we keep close.”

Jay’s eyes flicked to his mother, still standing in the doorway. Her gaze faltered just slightly.

So she told him. About you.

Of course she did.

And now it wasn’t just about the university anymore. It was about you. About everything he’d kept safe and sacred. Everything he thought he could keep separate.

—

You barged into his room with your bag slung over your right shoulder, hair slightly windblown..

“School was so boring!” you groaned, flopping straight onto his sofa. Without warning, you dropped your head onto his lap, staring up at the ceiling.

“But you wouldn’t guess what happened though,” you continued, grin creeping onto your face. “I got an A for Biology and Hee got an F, so now he has to retake the test. He looked like he was about to cry—”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Jay wasn’t laughing.

He wasn’t smiling.

His eyes were somewhere else, fixed on a spot just past you, like he wasn’t really here at all.

Your smile faltered.

You sat up slowly, shifting your weight until you were straddling his lap. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, but his gaze was still lost. So you reached for his face. Your hands cradled his jaw, thumbs pressing gently into the softness of his cheeks as you squished them together.

“Jay?” you said softly, brows furrowed. “Where’d you go?”

That finally pulled his eyes back to you.

He blinked, like surfacing from deep water, lips parted as if he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Jay?” you repeated, your voice quieter now, more cautious.

Jay shook his head quickly, almost like he was trying to shake something off. Then his hands tightened around your waist, grounding himself.

“Baby,” he murmured.

“You okay?” you asked, eyes searching his face.

He nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

Ever since the call with his father, the decision had been made for him…he would be going to Oxford. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a discussion. It was a statement, sharp and final. There was no room to disagree, no room to even think.

Not that he had a choice. He never really did.

Jay had spent the entire night buried under the covers of his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as the hours ticked by. His phone had lit up over and over again, messages from his mom, soft knocks at the door but he hadn’t moved.

He didn’t want to read what she had to say. He didn’t want to hear reassurances...not anymore. Because the truth was, nothing anyone said would make it feel any better.

And now here you were, sitting in his lap, smiling like the sun, laughing about your day, trusting that the world hadn’t just changed for him entirely.

He didn’t know how to tell you.

Didn’t know how to say he was leaving.

Didn’t know how to break your heart when you had only just handed it to him.

But he had to.

Because he was leaving.

At this point, it wasn’t about academics. It wasn’t about prestige. It was about control.

His father thought this was the cleanest way to fix things.

Remove the distraction.

Remove the attachment.

Remove you.

Jay felt it in his chest, this sick, sinking sense of being packaged up and delivered to a life he never chose. Like this would be better. Like this would make things easier. Not for him. But for them.

—

You were worried.

Jay wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t snarky, or smug, or sarcastic in the way you’d come to love. He wasn’t cracking jokes or teasing you every time you said something dumb. He was quiet and distracted.

Jay was usually good at hiding things. But today… today, whatever it was had cracked through.

So naturally, you turned to the two most emotionally stunted people you knew.

“I think he’s broken,” you declared, arms folded on the table in front of you. “Like, actually broken.”

Jungwon blinked. ��Did you try turning him off and back on again?”

“I’m serious, Won,” you said, glaring at Jungwon, “He hasn’t texted me all day. And yesterday, he...was so different? I don’t know what’s wrong but it’s not nothing.”

“Have you considered…” Jungwon began, “that he’s just constipated?”

“Jungwon, I swear to God—”

“I’m just saying, emotional constipation and actual constipation are cousins.”

“Please shut up,” you muttered, face in your hands.

Across from you, Heeseung was flipping through his notebook like he wasn’t listening. But then he spoke, casually, without even looking up.

“Why don’t you plan something lowkey for him?” he said. “Like, something you guys used to do. Remind him what home feels like. He clearly needs it.”

You and Jungwon both froze.

Then slowly, you turned to look at him.

Heeseung glanced up, blinking at your silence. “What?”

Jungwon pointed at him dramatically. “Holy shit, that’s the first good idea you’ve ever had.”

You side-eyed Jungwon. “You haven’t had a good idea today either, Won.”

“Yeah, but I usually do,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “So this makes up for it.”

Still, you leaned back in your chair, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you let the idea settle.

Something simple. Something that would pull Jay out of whatever fog he was in and back into the version of himself he only ever seemed to be around you.

Maybe Heeseung was right. Maybe it wasn’t about fixing anything. Maybe it was about reminding him that he was loved.

–

You sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on your knees, hands fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie. Jay was upstairs grabbing something, his keys maybe, or a jacket, or just taking forever like he always did. You’d planned everything with Jungwon and Heeseung down to the detail. A quiet dinner at your place. His favourite food, his favourite people, and a homemade banner Jungwon insisted on duct-taping across your kitchen ceiling.

You tapped your feet against the floor, eyes flicking between the staircase and the coffee table in front of you.

“Oh—hey!”

You hadn’t expected to run into his mom.

She came out from the hallway with a small stack of neatly folded towels, pausing slightly when she saw you there. Then her face relaxed into a smile, almost like the kind you couldn’t quite read.

“Oh, you’re here early,” she said lightly, crossing into the living room. “Jong’s still upstairs?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Said he’d just be a minute.”

She set the towels down on the armchair, smoothing one absent-mindedly. “How have you been? It feels like I haven’t seen you properly in ages.”

You stiffened slightly. Not out of rudeness. Just… because you never knew how to be around her anymore. Not since that night.

Still, you tried to keep your voice even. “I’ve been okay. School’s been a little hectic.”

“Mmm, I remember those days,” she said fondly. “So much pressure to figure everything out. Especially now.”

She gave you a knowing look, and you tried to return it, even though your stomach twisted.

A moment of silence passed. You glanced down at your hands.

“I really haven’t seen you around much,” she added gently, “Not even for dinner.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her gaze flicked to the corner of the room, almost like she wanted to say more. But then she smiled again, too quickly.

“I’m actually waiting for a delivery,” she said, as if to fill the quiet. “Should be arriving soon.”

“Oh?” you said, seizing the normalcy in her tone. “Something exciting?”

She waved a hand. “Just a new luggage set.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ooh, another vacation, Mrs. Park?”

She laughed softly. “Oh, no, not for me. It’s for Jay, we’re giving it to him before he goes to Oxford.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

The words didn’t even sound dramatic. Just a casual statement, something said mid-sentence, in passing.

But your brain latched onto it like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Oxford…

Oxford?

Jay was going to Oxford.

Your chest constricted. “Oxford?” you repeated, and you hated how your voice sounded small and uncertain.

Mrs. Park blinked, like she was only just realizing what she said. “Oh… oh, didn’t he tell you?”

Your heart dropped.

Your ears started to ring.

“He’s been accepted for early enrolment,” she continued, her smile faltering just slightly. “We’ve been sorting everything out this week. He’ll finish his last semester online and leave by the end of next month.”

End of next month.

That was four weeks.

Four weeks.

Four weeks left with Jay, and he hadn’t said a word.

“I thought you knew,” she said gently. “I’m so sorry, I assumed—”

But you didn’t hear the rest.

You could barely hear anything past the blood rushing in your ears. Your throat tightened. The lump rising felt sharp, like glass.

You nodded. Or at least you think you did. Some vague, stiff movement that looked enough like understanding to make her stop talking.

Upstairs, you heard Jay’s door creak open. His voice called out, cheerful and completely unaware.

“You ready?”

You stood up too fast, your legs unsteady. The smile you threw on felt like someone else’s.

Because right now, your heart was already cracking.

And he didn’t even know yet.

–

Jay was finally driving you. In his new car.

It was sleek, glossy black, still smelling faintly of showroom leather. The dashboard glowed with lights, the music system softly playing an instrumental track you barely registered. You’d never ridden in a car with him driving before. A month ago, that would’ve made you tease him endlessly, maybe fake a scream when he made a sharp turn, joke that your life was in his hands now. He would’ve laughed, reached over to pinch your knee, and said something stupid like, "Relax, I got my license in one try."

But now, you just sat there… quiet.

Your hands stayed clamped in your lap, fingers twisting into each other until you found the skin along your thumb and picked. You pulled. Peeled the hangnail until a thin trail of red welled up against your nail bed. You rubbed it away quickly with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Jay’s eyes flicked over from the road. Then back. Then again.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, hands still gripping the wheel. “You haven’t said a word since we left.”

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Because how could you?

How could you turn to him and ask ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ How could you ask ‘Was I supposed to find out from your mom? Like a stranger?’

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry and beat your fists against the dashboard and shake the truth out of him.

“Baby?”

His voice pulled you out of your spiral. Your head snapped up.

“Huh?”

Jay glanced over again. “Something’s clearly going on.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice too tight to be convincing.

He didn’t buy it. “Is this because I’ve been acting weird? I swear it’s all good now. I’m good.”

You shook your head and tried to laugh, but the sound came out cracked and hollow. “No, no. I just—”

Jay gave you a look. “Now I know you’re lying. You’re not about to pass that off as your real laugh.”

“I guess I’m just… worried, that’s all,” you said, brushing a loose thread off your jeans.

Jay’s brows knit. “Worried about what?”

You stared out the window, watching the blur of trees and apartment buildings pass. Your voice dropped. “The future.”

He didn’t press.

He turned onto your street, easing the car to a slow stop right outside your house. The engine purred into silence, but the tension between you roared. Still, you didn’t move. You didn’t speak.

He waited, hoping, maybe, that you’d open up. That you’d say something. But you didn’t. You just shrugged, gave him a vague “I guess,” and unbuckled your seatbelt like the conversation had ended.

The car locks clicked open.

You were already halfway out the door.

Jay cursed softly under his breath and slammed his door shut a second later, jogging after you. You’d unlocked your front door with shaky fingers and were about to step in when he caught up.

“You’re mad,” he said from behind you.

“I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice was tense now. “Baby, c’mon, did… did I do something? I’m sorry. I really am.”

You stopped in the hallway. Still didn’t turn.

Your heart thudded in your chest, hard and loud. You didn’t want to look at him because you knew that if you did, you knew everything would fall apart. You’d been holding it together and he was tugging on the last thread without even knowing it.

But it was the way he apologised, when he didn’t even know what for, that did it.

You turned.

Your eyes were red. Not just teary, bloodshot, swollen, like you hadn’t slept in days. You weren’t crying yet, but your expression… it was wrecked. Like someone trying to hold back a flood that had already started leaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered.

Jay froze. He looked at you like you’d just split him open.

“Tell you what?” he asked softly, though the dread was already sinking into his eyes.

“That you were going.”

Jay’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

And then the pain hit again, your words echoing off the hallway walls, hanging between you like smoke.

“I…” He tried. God, he tried.

But the words didn’t come.

Because how could he explain it? How could he say, ‘I didn’t want to see this look on your face?’ How could he say, ‘I tried fighting for us but it wasn’t enough?’

You shook your head slowly. “You were going to leave without telling me.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it?”

Jay stepped closer, voice trembling now. “I didn’t want to lie. I just… I kept waiting for the right time. But every time I saw you, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to see you look at me like I was already gone.”

“But you are,” you choked out. “Aren’t you?”

His face crumpled.

“I didn’t choose this.”

“Not telling me was a choice. Your choice.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, chest rising with shallow breaths. He looked older in that moment.

“I tried to stay. I told my dad I didn’t want to go. I told him this—” he gestured between the two of you, eyes glassy, “you — this is what matters to me. But he didn’t care. He never does.”

Your lip trembled, but you held it. “Then you should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

He took another step. Close enough to touch now, but he didn’t. Not yet.

“I was scared you’d hate me.”

You looked up at him then and for the first time, he saw it all: the betrayal, the grief, the love.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, voice breaking. “I just didn’t want to be the last to know you were leaving.”

Jay’s breath hitched. His shoulders dropped.

“I’m not trying to leave you,” he said, so quietly it almost sounded like a plea. “They’re just making me go. Please.”

You didn’t answer. Your throat was too tight.

He stepped forward, slowly, gently cupping your face with both hands.

“You’re the only thing I don’t want to leave behind.”

And this time, when the tears came, you didn’t stop them.

Your face crumpled as you collapsed into his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around his middle like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. Jay held you immediately, his hands splaying across your back, his cheek resting against the top of your head. .

“I’m not leaving,” he said suddenly, the words tumbling out in a single breath.

You blinked up at him through wet lashes. “What?”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, more firmly now. “I never wanted to go. I’m not going. I’m staying.”

You pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. “Jongseong… you can’t just up and ignore your parents—”

“I’m not ignoring them,” he cut in, “I’m just finally standing up for myself. Look. I don’t even want to go. If I’m not allowed to make my own choices about my own future, then what am I? A puppet?”

“Jong…”

“God, I love them,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated but honest. “I love my parents so much. But if they truly give a shit then they’ll just have to respect me enough to let me make my own decisions. They can’t keep deciding my life for me and call it parenting because it’s not.”

You hesitated. “Jong, you’re not doing this solely for me, are you?”

Jay sighed.

“I’ll admit that a huge part of me wants to stay because of you,” he said, not flinching. “Of course I do. But it’s not just that.”

He stepped back slightly, just enough to look you in the eye. “I don’t want to be living somewhere where I don't know anyone. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to wake up in a city that doesn’t have you, Hee, or Won. And c’mon, there are good schools here — great ones, even. I can still make something of myself without crossing an ocean for a name, all while being here…with you.”

You searched his face, your chest tight.

“But your dad—”

“Can live with my decision,” Jay said, quiet but certain. “I’ve been pretending I could live with this, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

He took your hands, thumbs brushing over your still-shaking fingers.

“I’m happier when I’m with you,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “When I’m here. With you guys. Near the people who make me feel like I’m already enough.”

You swallowed hard. His grip tightened.

“I’m not giving that up for a future that doesn’t even feel like mine. So please…don’t make me go.”

You breathed, like you’d been holding it in, “Okay.”

He sighed like the weight pressing on his chest had finally loosened.

And then he kissed you.

There was no hesitation, no inch of space left between you. It wasn’t delicate or careful, it was immediate, all heat.

His hands slipped from yours and rose to cradle your face, palms warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth like he needed to feel you. His lips crashed into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You leaned into him instinctively, your hands fisting in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting against your bottom lip, tasting the salt of your tears.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy, and rushed, and aching. His mouth trembled just a little when he kissed you. Jay’s thumb traced along your jaw, slow and reverent, while his other hand slid behind your neck.

Your knees felt weak. Your lungs burned. But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you.

“So… like, uh… do we come out now or…?”

You and Jay froze.

From behind the sofa, Jungwon slowly popped his head out, holding a cake with “Stop Being Sad!” scrawled messily across the top in blue icing. Heeseung followed a beat later, scratching the back of his neck.

“We could, like… pretend we aren’t here,” Heeseung muttered, glancing down at the cake as if he suddenly regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

You and Jay instinctively pulled apart, both of you flushed and teary-eyed, your breaths still uneven. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to be seen.

Jungwon winced at the sight of you two. “Uh. Sorry? We were gonna jump out and yell surprise, but like… then you guys were fighting then the next thing we knew you were kissing so–”

Jay dragged a hand down his face with a low groan. “Oh my god. What are you guys even doing here?”

“We were going to throw a surprise feel-better party,” Heeseung said flatly, lifting a plastic bag of takeout containers, “but if I’m being honest, I think we're the ones more surprised.”

Heeseung sighed before continuing, “We even brought your favorite food. Well… kinda. I think Jungwon ate half the fries while we were waiting.”

Jay didn’t say anything. Just let out a slow breath and sank into the sofa, his body folding inward like something was caving in. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. His thumbs rubbed together, a nervous habit. One you’d seen since you were kids.

But Jay didn’t look at anyone.

His eyes were fixed on the floor, staring through it.

You watched him from across the room, your own shoulders still tense, fingers curled around the frayed edge of your hoodie sleeve. He hadn’t said much since the kiss. Since the apology. Since he told you he was staying. And now, sitting there in your living room, he looked smaller somehow.

He was staying. But that decision came with consequences and Jay knew exactly who he had to face next.

The thought of confronting his father made his chest tighten. Not just in fear but in something closer to shame. Not because he regretted his choice. But because he knew what that choice would cost him. What it had always cost him.

The memory came back before he could stop it. A flicker of a younger version of himself, standing in the marble foyer of his family’s house, backpack still on, heart pounding after sneaking back in too late. His father’s voice slicing through the silence. “You skipped prep school?” His tone wasn’t surprised. It was more like disappointment. And then the yelling came and it didn’t stop. Not till three hours later.

But all Jay could remember was the way your face had looked earlier that day, eyes wide and glowing under a canopy of fairy lights at the amusement park. The way your hand had never let go of his. How you’d smiled like the whole world had finally opened up for you. And how, just for that one afternoon, he didn’t care about anything. He just wanted you to feel like someone had chosen you.

And now, he was choosing you again.

Except this time, he had no idea how to explain that to the man who had spent his whole life choosing everything for him.

The room had gone quiet, heavy with the things no one wanted to say aloud.

Jungwon, seated cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, glanced up and studied Jay’s profile for a moment. Then, gently, he asked, “Thinking about how you wanna talk to your dad?”

Jay’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, not looking up. “Yep.” The word left his mouth flat, clipped, like he didn’t trust himself to say anything more.

He leaned in further, pressing his hands together, elbows braced against his thighs. His voice dropped to a murmur. “I don’t even know how to start. It’s like… the moment I stand in front of him, I’m twelve again.”

You moved before you could stop yourself.

Quietly, you crossed the room and eased down beside him on the sofa. The cushion dipped beneath your weight, your knee brushing his. His shoulders didn’t flinch, but they didn’t relax either.

You slipped your hand into his.

Jay blinked. Looked down at your fingers curled around his.

And when you spoke, your voice was soft. “Do you want me to be there?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stared at your joined hands, breathing slowly through his nose like he was trying to think. But you could see the shift. The hesitation that made your stomach turn.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

Jay let go of your hand slowly. He rubbed his palm against his jeans and sat back slightly, like creating space might help him form the words he was scared to say.

“I just… I think it might be easier if I go alone,” he said. “He’ll be less... intense. If it’s just me.”

You frowned. “Jay.”

He didn’t look at you.

“That’s not the real reason, is it?”

Jay shut his eyes, jaw clenched. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. “No. It’s not.”

“Then what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He hesitated. Again. And when he finally spoke, it was carefull.

“He just… doesn’t understand,” Jay said slowly. “Why I want to stay. Why that matters more than prestige or legacy or whatever. And bringing you into that conversation might just… complicate things. He’s upset. It’ll pass.”

But you heard it.

The way he didn’t say it.

You sat back slightly, looking at him now, “Complicate things,” you repeated.

Jay nodded faintly.

You stared at him for a moment, piecing it together. And then your voice came out flat. “You mean to say... they don’t think I belong in your world.”

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No. Those aren’t my words. I’d never—”

“But they’re his,” you said softly. Not accusatory. Just… hurt.

Jay’s voice broke as he reached for you again. “I…I don’t agree with anything they’re saying.”

But the words, even as warm and trembling and full of love as they were, couldn’t take back what you already knew.

You blinked hard.

“It’s funny…I really thought they liked me,” you said, more to yourself than him. “I really did. I thought I was like family.”

“You are. To me, you always have been.”

But that wasn’t the same.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell to his sides. His voice cracked. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you whispered. “That’s exactly what it is.”

He didn’t argue. Because he knew. And you knew he knew.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell uselessly to his sides. His voice cracked, almost a whisper. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you said, quieter now. “That’s exactly what it is.”

No one spoke.

Not you, not Jay and not Jungwon or Heeseung, who had been silently sitting off to the side, exchanging hesitant glances as if trying to gauge whether they should stay or disappear. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was heavy.

Then, slowly, you stood up.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” you said, your voice strained but steady. “I just… I think I need some time alone.”

Jungwon blinked, rising immediately without protest. “Of course,” he said gently, grabbing his jacket.

“Take all the time you need,” Heeseung added, pulling Jungwon by the arm, guiding him out of the room.

And just like that, it was only you and Jay.

He hadn’t moved. But his eyes never left you, still wide, still searching, like he was waiting for some version of you to reach back out and say this wasn’t real. That you didn’t mean it.

You exhaled sharply, hugging your arms across your chest. “Jong, I need time. Alone.”

He rose to his feet, almost stumbling forward. “I can’t possibly leave you alone with all these thoughts—”

“With what thoughts?” you snapped, voice wobbling. “That your parents think I’m not good enough for you?”

Your throat tightened as tears welled up again, threatening to fall. “For the record, Jay, I’m precious to other people too.”

And that cracked something in him.

Jay’s breath caught in his chest as he watched you fall apart in front of him.

He couldn’t speak. He should’ve swallowed his fear. Should’ve protected you better. But instead, here you were, crumbling under the weight of his parents’ ignorance and all he could do was watch it happen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You were already shaking your head. “Jay, they’re right,” you said, your voice cracking as tears spilled down your cheeks. “I’m crying because they’re right.”

“No,” he said quickly, stepping closer.

“They’re not—”

“Look at us!” you cut in. “From the moment we got together till now, we’ve been fighting over the same thing. Me and you. We don’t belong in the same world. And you know it.”

Jay flinched.

You took a breath but it came out in pieces. “What’s gonna happen in the future, huh? When you’re out there doing all these big world things and I’m just… I’m just stuck. Working at a stupid kids’ playground, scraping money together just so I can go out with my friends like a normal person?”

You couldn’t breathe between sentences now. It was all tumbling out, everything you’d been burying deep inside.

“No,” he muttered under his breath. Then louder, “Enough.”

You startled at the sharpness in his voice.

“That’s enough,” he said again, stepping forward in two long strides before pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you so tightly. “Stop. Please,” he whispered against your hair. “Just stop.”

You didn’t fight it. You were too tired. Too worn. You just stood there, pressed against him, your hands balled.

“I love you,” Jay said suddenly, voice rough. “I fucking love you. How can you even say that? That you’re not enough?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face now, his forehead pressed to yours.

“I don’t care about status. I don’t care what my parents built. I don’t care about any of it. The only thing I care about is you.”

His chest rose and fell too fast, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

“I spend day and night thinking only about you. I always think about you. Dreaming that someday, I’ll get to wake up next to you and not have to keep it a secret. That I can walk out into the world and tell everyone that you’re mine. That I chose you. Over everything.”

You didn’t speak, didn’t move. Your heart felt like it was breaking and being stitched back together at the same time.

“I don’t care where we live,” he said fiercely. “I don’t care if it’s some shabby motel room or a one-room apartment over a laundromat. I just care that you’re there. Right beside me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His voice softened, cracked down the middle.

“If my mom and dad can’t see that? Then fine. Whatever. Let them be blind. Because… the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is this.”

He gripped your face tighter, thumbs brushing your tear-streaked cheeks. “Us. Our relationship. You.”

Your chest shook with the sob you hadn’t meant to let out.

And this time, when you collapsed into him, it wasn’t from sadness.

It was from the unbearable weight of being unconditionally loved.

–

Jay’s house had always been intimidating in a quiet, understated way not because it was large or lavish (although it was), but because of the tension that wafted it in the air. A kind of coldness that never really went away, even when his mom was smiling or his dad was out of town. You felt it now more than ever as you stood in the hallway outside his father’s office, the sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoing louder than you wanted it to.

You were in a pretty little dress, nothing flashy, just enough to look presentable. Your hair was done in a half ponytail, neat and soft, something you’d fixed just before you came even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. Jay had decided to bring you with him. After everything, the two of you had spent the night talking, curled up together on your couch, deciding that no matter what happened in that room, you would walk out together.

Even if that meant Jay leaving with three suitcases and no home to return to.

When the heavy double doors to the office opened, thunder cracked outside, almost like the sky itself was warning you. Jay flinched. So did you. But still, he stepped in first, fingers tightly curled around yours, and you followed behind him into the room.

His father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, posture straight, glasses perched low on his nose, the blue light from his laptop casting sharp shadows across his face. He looked like any other wealthy middle-aged man, if you were being honest, if you didn’t know better, you’d never guess how much power his voice held over Jay. How that man could reduce him to something so small with a few words.

“Close the door,” his father said without looking up.

Jay obeyed wordlessly. The soft click of the door shutting made your heart pound louder in your ears.

The silence was unbearable. The only sounds in the room were the quiet clack of his father’s typing, the occasional pop from the crackling fire in the fireplace, and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Jay’s hand trembling in yours as he led you closer toward the desk.

His mother sat just to the side in one of the leather armchairs, perfectly composed. She looked at your joined hands, then up at you both. Her expression was unreadable, but when she exhaled, you caught the faintest trace of defeat in it.

Jay stopped just a step short of the desk. You could feel the tension in his body, the rigid line of his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other like he was grounding himself.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m not going.”

The typing stopped.

The silence that followed was louder than anything else that had come before it. His father slowly closed the laptop, fingers steepled over it as he raised his head. And then, he smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not even a confused one.

It was the kind of smile you gave when you thought someone was playing a prank on you. Condescending. Amused, but in that way that made you feel small.

“Not going?” he repeated, voice low but laced with ice. He leaned back in his chair. “And who exactly made that decision?”

Jay’s grip on your hand tightened.

“I did,” he said, voice steady but strained. “Because it’s my life.”

There was a moment where the room stood still.

Then came the slam.

THWACK.

His father’s palm hit the desk with a force that made you flinch and Jay instinctively step a little in front of you.

His dad’s face darkened, his voice rising now. “You did?” he echoed. “You decided to throw away Oxford. Throw away everything we’ve worked for. Everything I’ve sacrificed for this family. For what? Her?”

Jay didn’t respond.

His father’s eyes flicked to you, cold and sharp. You tried not to shrink under it, but it was hard, your chest felt like it was caving in on itself. He continued, now addressing his son with pointed disgust. “I always knew you were impulsive, but I didn’t think you were stupid. Do you understand what you’re giving up?”

Jay stayed still. Then slowly, he nodded.

“I do,” he said softly. “And I’m still not going.”

His dad scoffed, jaw tightening. “This isn’t just about you. This is about our name. Our reputation. Do you think you can waltz out of this house and pretend like your choices don’t affect the rest of us? Do you think—”

Jay stepped forward then.

“I’m not pretending. I know they affect you. But this—” he motioned between you and him, “this affects me too. And for once, I’m choosing the life I want to live.”

You could feel your lungs struggle for air.

Jay’s mom shifted in her seat, something soft flickering across her face. Her eyes moved back to the two of you, and this time, it lingered.

His dad rose to his feet.

“Then you can pack your things,” he said coldly. “And leave.”

Jay didn’t say a word. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the office like the walls themselves were going to swallow him whole if he didn’t move fast enough. The last glimpse you caught before the door shut was his father, still standing, his expression unreadable save for the sharp stare he gave you and his mother, her eyes lingering on you.

Then you were in his room. The room you’d spent so many years in. The room where you studied on the floor for hours, where you once fell asleep watching movies with your legs tangled together. But now, it felt different. Felt almost unfamiliar despite the million times you’ve been in there.

Jay was moving fast, throwing open his wardrobe doors, yanking shirts and jackets off hangers, pulling drawers open and emptying clothes into an open suitcase. It was all happening so fast you could barely process it. You stood there, frozen by the door, the click of the doorknob behind you still echoing in your ears.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. Your limbs were locked in place like your body had gone into shock. Guilt rose steadily in your chest, thick and choking.

“Baby…” your voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t think… shouldn’t we talk? Shouldn’t there be more to it than just this?”

Jay didn’t stop packing. He only glanced at you briefly, his eyes hard, lips set. “Talk about what?” he said sharply. “They’re never going to listen.”

You walked over to him slowly, your hand reaching for his arm, grounding yourself. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you stop talking to your family. This is heavy, Jay. This burden—it’s heavy as hell.” Your voice cracked near the end, and you hated it. Hated how weak you sounded. Hated how helpless this all felt.

Jay finally paused, his shoulders still heaving with frustration. He turned to you, placed both hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs brushing your skin as if that alone could reassure you. His voice dropped, low and tender, full of a kind of pain that was older than this moment.

“Baby, this isn’t about them right now. It’s about me. About trying to live my own life. I’m so tired of living a version of me that only exists to please them. I’ve been the perfect son for years, and now…” His hands tightened, eyes boring into yours. “Now I’m just trying to take my life back.”

You looked up at him for a long second, your breath caught in your chest, and then you slowly nodded. Wordlessly, you stepped beside him and knelt, beginning to fold the wrinkled clothes he had shoved into his suitcase. You couldn’t fix anything, not really, but you could help him pack.

He watched you for a moment. The way your eyes were lowered, expression unreadable. Guilt settled heavy in his stomach. He knew you were hurting not because of something you did, but simply because of who you were. And how his family had decided that was somehow… not enough.

Then he felt it.

Eyes on him.

Jay turned toward the door.

His mother stood there, a hand still clutched lightly against the frame, her face soft and wet with tears. Her gaze flickered from him to you, back again. “Jong…” she said, her voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

His heart squeezed. God, he’d always had a soft spot for her. For the way she brushed the hair from his eyes when he was sick, for the quiet way she defended him during family dinners. She loved him and he knew that. But when it came to standing up to his father, she never stood a chance.

“Mom…” he said, his voice breaking.

“Jong, please,” she whispered again.

He looked down. Then at you. You stood slowly now, standing behind him, your hands twisted tightly together, fingers fidgeting in a desperate attempt to stay grounded.

Jay swallowed hard. “I’m not going,” he said, barely more than a breath. “And if it’s too much for you or Dad to handle, then I’ll leave.”

His mother stepped into the room, shaking her head, eyes red. “I tried talking to your father—”

“He’s not going to change his mind, Mom.”

“He can. We can try.”

Jay let out a bitter laugh, short and sharp. “I’ve been trying. For years. And nothing’s ever budged.”

She stepped closer, voice pleading now. “What if you went? Just for now? You could visit every few months—”

“Because I don’t want to!” Jay’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over, his fists clenched at his sides. “The love of my life is here. I want to be here. My friends are here. You’re here. I don’t want to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone, where I have to pretend like I’m someone I’m not.”

He was crying now. A mess of breathless anger and heartbreak. He looked at his mom, desperate for her to see him. To see you.

“You used to tell me stories, remember?” he said, voice trembling. “How Dad courted you for three years. How you didn’t even like him at first, but he waited. You told me about your love story growing up. And now what? I don’t get to have one?”

His voice broke completely.

“I’m in love with her, Mom,” he whispered, his hand reaching behind to find yours again. “And I can’t let you or Dad take her away from me.”

The door slammed open with a violent crack, bouncing off the wall behind it. You jumped, your breath caught in your throat as Jay instinctively turned, stepping back to shield you behind him.

His father stood in the doorway, tall and unmoving. His expression was unreadable.

Jay stiffened in front of you, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides as he positioned himself like a barrier. He didn’t say anything. Neither did you. It was like the two of you were back in school, caught sneaking out past curfew, facing down a teacher.

“You’re comparing whatever you have with her to the story of your mother and me,” his father said, his voice calm but sharp, every syllable slicing through the room like glass. “So tell me, Jongseong. What makes you so sure she’s the one?”

Jay blinked. “What?”

The question caught him off guard. Of all the things his father could’ve said… that wasn’t it.

His father took a slow step forward, hands still tucked neatly into his pockets. “You’re willing to give up your education. Your future. Everything your mother and I worked for. You’re willing to throw it all away for her.” He didn’t look at you when he said it, only at Jay. “So explain to me. What makes you think the two of you are so special? What makes you believe this is real? That it’s not just some immature, irresponsible decision for a—” his voice dipped, “—a passing fling.”

You felt the breath leave your lungs.

Jay’s shoulders tightened in front of you, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscles twitch. He didn’t move at first. Just stood there.

You swallowed hard, your eyes locked on the back of Jay’s hoodie, your fingers trembling at your sides.

Jay turned slowly, just enough to glance back at you. His eyes met yours for the briefest second.

He looked back at his father, drawing a breath.

“I know,” Jay said, voice steady, though it cracked faintly at the edges. “I know because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I’ve never fought this hard for anything before. And it’s not a fling. It’s her. It’s always been her.”

His father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And that’s supposed to be enough? A feeling?”

“No,” Jay replied, firmer now. “It’s not just a feeling. It’s the fact that I see my entire life with her. Not just today. Not just tomorrow. All of it. I don’t care if we’re rich or broke or living in a shoebox apartment. I want her there with me. I want to wake up next to her, argue with her over dumb things, bring her coffee when she’s tired, learn how to braid our daughter’s hair if we ever have one…that’s how sure I am.”

You blinked, your heart thudding so hard it hurt.

Jay stepped forward, his voice rising slightly. “You want to know what makes this real? It’s that when I think about what makes me feel safe, what makes me feel like I have a home, it’s her. Not a country, not a job, not a title. It’s her.”

He turned and reached for your hand again, threading your fingers through his, holding you tightly like he was afraid the world might tear you away at any moment.

“And if you can’t see that,” Jay said, looking directly into his father’s eyes now, “then maybe it’s not me who’s being reckless. Maybe it’s you for thinking love has to come with a some sort of societal hierarchy.”

The room fell silent again.

Jay’s father didn’t move. His face didn’t change.

“Then so be it,” he said.

Jay stiffened, not expecting him to fold, at least not like this.

“I expect three schools you’re planning to apply to. On my desk. Monday morning.” His gaze flicked between the two of you, briefly, unreadable. “Top three in the country. Or you’re going to Oxford. That’s the deal.”

And just like that, he turned and left.

The sound of his shoes against the hardwood echoed down the hall. The door clicked shut behind him.

You turned slowly to Jay, still gripping his hand, still trying to find your footing.

His eyes were locked on the door his father had disappeared behind. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move.

You gently brushed your thumb against the back of his hand. “Jong?”

He blinked, once. Then again. And finally turned to look at you.

“He didn’t say no,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “He didn’t… shut the door.”

“No,” you said softly, stepping closer. “He didn’t.”

Jay nodded slowly, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. Not completely.

Because this wasn’t a win.

But it wasn’t a loss either.

–

Things at home were still tense. No one had said much since the confrontation. His dad mostly kept to himself. His mom cooked in silence. Meals were eaten quickly and apart. It felt like everyone was walking on glass, afraid one wrong step would crack it all open again.

You were at Jay’s place, waiting for your mom to finish work so she could swing by and pick you up. The rain had just stopped outside, leaving the windows streaked with droplets, a quiet stillness hanging in the air like the whole world was holding its breath.

You were both sitting cross-legged on his bed, half under the covers, half sprawled out with glossy brochures scattered between the pillows and across the floor. Jay was holding one upside down, dramatically squinting at it.

“Do you think they give scholarships for people who have a traumatic past?” you asked, grinning.

He scoffed. “Please. I deserve a full ride just for surviving my father.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. He retaliated by leaning in, pressing a teasing kiss to your temple, then one to your nose, and then your lips, just a light brush, slow and sweet.

“You’re distracting me,” you mumbled against his mouth.

“Mm,” he hummed, grinning. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes, about to swat his shoulder again when the door creaked open.

Both of you froze.

Jay’s mom stood at the doorway, a brochure in her hand, her expression unreadable. She cleared her throat gently. “How about this one?” she asked, her voice even.

You blinked. Jay sat up straighter. “Huh?”

She walked in and handed the brochure over, and as you took it, your fingers grazed hers. It was another local university, one that hadn’t been on either of your lists but was known and reputable. A place his father wouldn’t hate.

And then you understood.

She was helping. In her own way.

Your lips parted slightly.

Jay’s mom sat down beside you on the bed, smoothing her skirt down as she exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes flickering to yours. “For everything you’ve gone through these past few months. I wish you told me the truth. I wish you told me you and Jongseong were together. I would’ve fought harder for the both of you.”

Your throat tightened. You swallowed hard.

“But then again,” she continued, her voice lowering, “I was wrong. You heard what I said that day… about you not being in our world. And I was wrong for thinking that.”

She turned toward you more fully, her tone warm but earnest. “What Jong said was right. At the end of the day, we’re all just people. Status, names, connections… they shouldn’t matter. And I’m sorry I ever made you feel like they did.”

You nodded slowly, blinking through the sting in your eyes. You weren’t sure what to say, maybe because there was too much to say.

–

The sun was merciless, high above the stadium, baking the crowd in waves of heat and happiness. You were squinting into your mom’s phone camera, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jay, both of you dressed in identical deep navy cap and gowns.

Your mortarboard was already slightly crooked. Jay’s tassel kept swaying into his mouth.

“Mom,” you groaned, “that’s like the hundredth picture you’ve taken just today.”

Your mother didn’t even look up from her camera. “And?”

Mrs. Park, standing right beside her, chuckled warmly, nudging your mom like they were old best friends now which, frankly, they kind of always had been. “The two of you look so cute in your cap and gown,” she cooed. “We have to document this. For memory sake, c’mon!”

Jay groaned under his breath but smiled anyway. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“A little kiss for the camera?” your mom added with a wink.

“Gross, Mom,” you muttered, already turning your head away.

Too late.

Jay took your chin gently and turned your face back toward him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I won’t say no to a free kiss,” he murmured, smug.

You shoved his chest lightly, but the laughter broke through before you could even pretend to be mad. “Ugh. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Behind you, a familiar voice cut through. “Okay, lovebirds, let’s not forget who the actual valedictorian is.”

You turned just in time to see Jungwon walking up, cap perfectly straight, robe pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight.

And then, Heeseung who was trailing behind him, in a gown that looked like it had been stuffed into a bag.

The sleeves were slightly too short, the zipper was half-stuck, and it hung off one shoulder.

“I can’t believe my parents didn’t spring for a second gown,” Heeseung said, exasperated, lifting a loose sleeve. “I’m stuck wearing my brother’s ratty one from two years ago. I found a mint in the pocket. Unwrapped, by the way. I swear to God, he’s the filthiest creature on Earth.”

Jungwon didn’t even pause. “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked back at Jungwon, completely deadpan. “Thank you, Jungwon. As always, a pillar of encouragement.”

Jay snorted into his sleeve. You were already wheezing, clutching your side as the two of them launched into another round of sarcastic bickering that made you question how either of them made it to graduation.

“Oh…hold on,” Heeseung suddenly perked up, biting his lip and raising a brow. “Some girls from the junior classes just showed up to congratulate me.”

You rolled your eyes. Jay muttered, “Here we go…”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Heeseung said, already straightening his sad excuse of a gown, “Won, you’re coming with.”

Jungwon blinked. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“I need a wingman. Jay’s taken, and I need someone to distract the extras while I move in on the main event.”

“Stop talking,” Jungwon said immediately.

“C’mon, please?”

“Just stop talking and I’ll go.”

“Sweet. Let’s go,” Heeseung grinned, already dragging him away.

You and Jay watched them go.

“Are we… sure he graduated?” you asked.

“Honestly?” Jay shrugged. “A miracle.”

But then, a throat cleared.

You turned, laughter freezing in your throat.

Jay’s father stood a few feet away in a crisp suit, arms crossed, sunglasses pushed up on his head. He didn’t say a word right away. Just looked at the two of you, at Jay in his cap and gown, hand intertwined with yours.

Jay’s hand stiffened slightly in yours. You looked at him and caught the faintest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

To be fair, since the Monday Jay had placed the list of his top university applications on his father’s desk and then got into those schools, no less, there hadn’t been much conversation. Just the occasional grunt, nod, or one-word answer. It wasn’t new. Jay never expected his father to be warm. He could live without it. Had done so for most of his life.

But right now, Jay held his breath.

His father stepped forward, slow but sure, gaze unreadable. You tightened your grip on Jay’s hand without realizing it.

He stopped in front of Jay. His eyes scanned him once then paused on the crumpled gown, the slightly crooked cap, and then your intertwined hands.

“Well,” he said, voice low. “You wore the cap properly.”

Jay blinked, unsure if that was a jab or a compliment. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

And then, Jay’s father reached out.

To you.

He adjusted the tassel on your cap, gently sweeping it from the left to the right side.

“You’ve graduated too,” he said, not looking at you directly, but something in his tone softer than before. “Should wear it properly.”

You didn’t move.

Then his father stepped back. He looked at Jay for a long beat, something tight in his jaw, but his voice steadier this time.

“You did good,” he said. “Better than expected.”

That was it.

Jay’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Because those few short words, that deadpan delivery, that subtle nod was his father’s way. And Jay knew, as frustrating and emotionally constipated as it was, that was as close as he’d ever get to hearing “I’m proud of you” out loud.

Before either of you could say anything, Mr. Park had already turned away, his footsteps slow and composed as he made his way through the crowd. He nodded at your mother and Mrs. Park in passing, the gesture polite.

Then, weaving through the field, he crossed paths with Heeseung who, at that moment, was mid–peace sign, tongue out, and clearly trying to impress a group of younger girls.

Mr. Park came to a halt. Looked him up. Then down.

“Fix your collar, boy,” he said in the most unimpressed tone known to man, “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked. He turned to Jungwon, stunned. You and Jay were already doubled over trying not to laugh.

A minute later, Heeseung made his way back to the two of you.

“Guys,” he said, eyes wide, “who was that and why was he mean?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, that’s… my dad.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, he seems lovely.”

“I lowkey agree with him, though,” Jungwon added, eyeing Heeseung’s wrinkled sleeves.

“That’s because you’re an asshole,” Heeseung snapped.

You turned toward Jay, stifling your laugh behind your hand as Heeseung and Jungwon continued to bicker beside you.

Jay slipped his hand into yours giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly, and when you glanced up, his gaze was already on you.

“Hard to believe we made it here,” he murmured.

You smiled, stepping closer until your forehead touched his. “Well… I kinda had a feeling we’d make it.”

“Weren’t you the same person who cried for two hours because you thought I was leaving?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“Still… I would’ve chosen you,” he said quietly, just for you. “Even if it meant packing up and leaving with nothing but you.”

You leaned in, kissed him gently, then pulled back just enough to speak. “Lucky for you,” you said, your smile matching his, “I came with everything we need.”

“Okay, kids! Group photo!” Mrs. Park called out, already motioning for you, Jay, Heeseung, and Jungwon to squeeze together.

You groaned playfully, but there was no use resisting. Jay laced his fingers with yours and tugged you forward, Heeseung fixed his borrowed gown while Jungwon rolled his eyes and tried to smooth his already-perfect one.

“Closer!” your mom called, squinting at the screen. “Act like you like each other!”

Heeseung threw an arm over Jay’s shoulder. “That’s a big ask.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.” Jungwon scoffed, flicking Heeseung’s forehead.

“Smile!” Mrs. Park added, then laughed. “Okay, last one and then we’ll go for dinner!”

The four of you leaned in, grinning wide for the camera. Jay’s hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, close and quick, pressing a kiss to your cheek just as the shutter clicked.

You squeaked in surprise, eyes wide, but the warmth on your face gave you away instantly.

“Now that’s burned into our graduation photo. Great,” Jungwon groaned.

“Unless… you want all of us to kiss you too?” Heeseung suggested, wiggling his brows.

Jungwon blinked. “No. I don’t really… I don’t want that.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, already leaning in.

“Let’s do it,” Jay said, grinning.

Before Jungwon could escape, the three of you planted a kiss on his cheeks all at once.

“I’VE GOT COOTIES NOW!”

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sapphireplums · 2 days ago

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JOHNNY STORM FIC RECS

hello my lovelies!! with my heavy obsession with this gorgeous man right here, this is a list of recs that i have LOVED. they're mostly fluff, but some angst and spice too 👀

i have so much love for all of these writers. you all truly make my day with these amazing fics 🥹💕

rule breaker

When you and Johnny Storm started fooling around, he made sure to tell you that it was going to be nothing serious. Well, at least until he broke his own rule and fell in love with you. @fireinmoonshot

first introduction

they finally meet johnny's new girlfriend @wwinterwitch

night light

after another one of reed’s infamous power outages, your boyfriend johnny comes with the solution to all your problems. @plaidcowboy

childproof 18+

sue announces her pregnancy. johnny is elated for his big sister. but it makes you feel some type of way when you know he wants kids of his own. something you're not very sure you want. @munsonstorm

put me to work, dollface.

all the ways in which you utilise your boyfriend johnny whilst refuses to let go of you, including the moment you get ready to meet his family for the first time. @bodhiscurls

waited all night for you, i'll wait forever.

after an long coming arguement with your boyfriend at dinner, you leave, desperate for space. forty thousand missed calls and texts later, you come back in the morning when you've cooled off only to find johnny storm slumped against your front door where he's waited all night for and will wait forever too. @bodhiscurls

mine next, please.

it starts when johnny sees you hold his nephew for the first time and all he can think about is how incredible life could be if you were holding his. @bodhiscurls

the family dinner

It's your first time meeting Johnny's family, and you've never been more nervous in your life. @spider-starry

warm cuddles

soft moment with your “celebrity” boyfriend @ssweeterthanfiction

whatever you say

Johnny Storm never thought he'd end up like Reed—until his pregnant wife told him he wasn’t going on that mission. Superpowers? Useless. Against her? He never stood a chance. @not-yuyu

little does he know

two superheroes, johnny and y/n are sneaking around behind the teams back, assuming their relationship rendezvous are underwraps. little do they know, the entire team already knew! @tomsparkyr

my heart races for you, doc.

reed richards brings in an old family friend to help make sense of their new powers. johnny storm can deny that he's been trying extra hard for you to look his way all he likes. brushing his hand against yours at dinner, bumping into you outside your opposite rooms- purely accidental. but when you've got him hooked to a monitor and his heart beats double the usual, he can't hide what he feels anymore. @bodhiscurls

temptations

You’re Ben’s little sister and needed a place to crash after graduation. He only asks of one thing in return. Don’t fall for Johnny @eddiesxangel

Johnny Storm relationship headcanons @wordbunch

freeze me, baby

you’re hired to babysit franklin, but johnny’s the real handful. he’s all fire, you’re all ice, and somehow that just makes things worse. or better. depends who you ask. @hangmanwrites

personal heater

when the heater blows out in the midst of a large snow storm, you seek shelter in your boyfriends arms @munsonify

Fluffy headcanons | Johnny Storm @averagewriter-inthedark

SFW alphabet | Johnny Storm @averagewriter-inthedark

fool (for you )

hiiiii could you do a johnny storm x reader pre established relationship where he gets hurt doing something dumb and you have to patch his wounds. the reader like scolds him during this and he’s trying to make it sound like he did nothing wrong but your tired of it. thank you so much have a great day/night! @violetrainbow412-blog

fire and ice

Earth-616 is no stranger to the multiverse. Since the defeat of Thanos in 2023, the Avengers have had their fair share of visitors from other worlds and know what to expect when they do. But when a man wearing the same face of their late comrade arrives, the Avengers are in for the shock of their lives when a group of heroes tailing the individual fall through the portal behind him. And for the flying, fire-wielding, and sometimes charming Johnny Storm, he meets his match in the form of a woman whos @averagewriter-inthedark

with the amount of fics i'm reading, im sure i will have a part two soon LOL. i hope these feed your johnny obsession hehehe

#johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #fantastic four #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #johnny storm fanfic #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm smut #johnny storm angst #the human torch #human torch x reader #fantastic 4 first steps

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alyakhq · 1 day ago

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jealous colonel caleb and his lieutenant because i said so :)

“please!— please colonel! oh gosh—“ your begs and pleads filled the air, yet fell into deaf ears. the man behind you, your husband, was railing you into the large bed, his cock reaching your cervix with every harsh thrust, hands digging into your hips, “fuck—i-i can’t it’s too much caleb—“

“it’s not too much, you can take it,” he whispered in your ear, his hips pressing into the flesh of your ass, making it shake on impact, caleb’s eyes latched onto the jiggle, “damn—late nights at the gym with me has paid off,” slap! “your ass is getting fatter…didn’t even know that was possible.” you didn’t even understand what he was saying, your mind only filled with how deep his dick was going, how much pleasure your being given.

the sounds of skin slapping echoed in caleb’s bedroom, his hips reckless and powerful, thrusting into your wet pussy, his hand pressing onto your upper back to arch your back more.

the sight alone making him groan. your back arched nicely, your curls over your shoulders— fuck you were a masterpiece. grabbing a pillow, you stuffed your face into it, trying to hold back the loud moans which have probably waken up the whole of sky haven. that ass of yours driving caleb insane, shaking with every thrust, it was calling his name.

your ass red and bruised from his assualt earlier, spanking you for talking all cute and submissive for other men in the fleet. his heavy hand, still with his leather gloves on, landing on your flesh with every wrong answer you gave him. his other hand holding you down over his lap, until you apologised properly, which is when he finally rubbed your skin. squeezing the flesh and kissing your sore spots away, before putting you on all fours and fucking you raw.

“who do you belong to lieutenant? tell me,” caleb growled, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips, pulling your ass back to meet his own hips.

your head lifted from the pillow, black tears running down your face due to your mascara, your baby hair clinging to your face.

but nothing came out.

..did he even say anything? definitely not, however, it was too late when you realised he actually did speak, and even worse asked you something.

caleb’s silence sent shivers down your spine, and then his beefy arm went around your neck, pulling your torso up a little, bringing you to his chest. you could feel his muscles against your lower back, and his lips reached your ear, “i asked you a fucking question, don’t make me punish you again. or are you too cockdrunk to speak? can you only moan and beg? pathetic.” his voice was filled with power, commanding, making your pussy clench around him.

“i’m sorry colonel! i’m so sorry—fuck i’m so sorry! please—hah! what was the question? i’ll a-answer!” your hands went to his forearm, digging your nails into the firm muscle, feeling his arms tense. his arm was so muscular, so biteable it was hard not to sink your teeth into his flesh as well. “i’ll be a good girl colonel..!”

his other went to your bruised ass, landing another slap for your disobedience, “my poor lieutenant, can’t even remember what i said? little whore. i’ll say it again. who do you belong to?”

his thrusts picked up pace, slamming into your at an inhumane pace, feeling your tight pussy clench around his cock, your moans filling his ears. it only motivated him more, his cock reaching deeper into your cunt, you could feel it in your throat.

“i belong to you!—mhm! you colonel! only you!—ah! please—it’s too much!”

caleb’s arm removed itself from your neck, his hands. gently lowering your limp torso back onto the mattress. his hands going to your hips. his leg went up, to give him more strength to rail you harder. “too much? awh, little soldier can’t handle it? can’t handle my cock? huh?”

caleb scoffed, “silly girl, i’ll show you too much.”

@ alyakhq, do not plagiarise, copy or translate my work pls :)

i love caleb but i need to leave him alone more

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ezshroom · 11 hours ago

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They probably don’t actually want to store your fingerprint. It’s more likely that they’re just using passkeys

Passkeys are the result of a little project the tech industry started a while ago to replace passwords. The reason they want to replace passwords is that people are shit at making them up, and that leads to reuse, obvious patterns, and other Bad Things.

Most people make passwords that they’ve either used on 1000 other websites, or is just the name of their dog and some numbers, or something like that. Microsoft, Apple, Google & Co. know that they can’t force you to be good at passwords, so instead, they looked at how they can get rid of passwords and came up with a system that’s based off secrets — when you use your fingerprint or your face or whatever your biometric method may be, you sign a challenge with a very random and large key. So instead of it being your job to make a good password and keep it safe, it’s your device’s job to make a good secret and keep it safe (usually by keeping that secret with a secure element that will physically destroy itself if tampered with).

All of that happens on-device. So when a site asks for you to Face ID or use your phone’s fingerprint, it’s not actually getting your face or your fingerprint. That’s just what your device uses to prove to that secure element that it should tell the website you’re good.

This also means you get to avoid attacks like phishing. There’s no way with passkeys to be tricked into providing one to the wrong website. Your browser just won’t let you.

Realistically in most places passkeys aren’t a replacement to passwords. Some places like Google let you only use your passkey now, but others still force you to have a password too. But they’re still there as an option so that you can log in much faster next time (so you don’t have to do the whole ‘uhhhh uhhhh uhhh what’s my password here’ thing), so that’s why they’re asking you for your fingerprint, probably. Please give me $20 now.

i really like this thing where websites will have separate "log in" & "sign up" buttons and if you click "log in" it takes you to a sign-up screen anyway so you have to click "i already have an account" and then it will ask if you want to sign in with your facebook account or with instagram or linkedin or deviantart or whatever, and if you choose "username & password" it asks if you want to put in your username or use your thumbprint, and once you put your username & password it emails you a confirmation code, and once you put in the code it says "do you want to give us your phone number for future sign-ins? do you want to sign up for facial recognition? do you want to give us your bones? give us your fucking bones?

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sleepdeprivedfrfr · 3 days ago

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im not in love

ex-situationship!bucky x reader

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: minor thunderbolts spoilers? tower fic, exsituationship/relationship!bucky?? reader is an old friend of Natasha and Yelena. mutual pining. bit of a toxic relationship (if you'll even call it that). smut, fingering, p in v. dacryphillia. a splash of angst. oneshot? not proofread. MDNI. NSFW!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: After your final mission for Valentina ended in you helping the so called 'new avengers' defeat the Void, you've been spending your days in the Avengers tower with the rest of the crew.

𝐚/𝐧: this has been in the drafts since may and I needed to get it out desperately. now ik why I js stick to drabbles lmfao. I also used google translate for the Russian so please correct me if I am wrong!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k

"What is it?"

Yelena's voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you redirected your focus from the window that displayed an illuminating view of the city lights, back to the couch where Yelena and Bob were talking about having a group movie night.

"What?" Him. It's always him.

You noticed the slight raise in her brows before she spoke, "You've been staring at that window for the past ten minutes. Am I boring you or something?" Bob gulped and silently watched the conversation between you and Yelena unfold.

"I was?" God you've only been living in the tower for not even a month and you feel like you're already losing your fucking mind. I mean how could you not? Especially when you were constantly running into him in the kitchen, exchanging awkward glances, and blatantly avoiding each other after each awkward exchange.

Yelena let out an exasperated sigh before starting again, "You know you two should just talk to each other and stop making it awkward for the rest of us. Seriously, it's painful to see how desperate you two are for each other."

You scoffed and crossed your arms in front of you, " 'Lena I have no idea what you're talking about."

She glanced at Bob—who was already looking her way— and let out a hearty laugh. You sat with a blank expression, until Bob joined in and began to stifle a laugh as well. It was uncanny how similar she was to Alexi, you always thought about how absurd it was that they aren't actually related.

Yelena wiped fake tears from her eyes as her laughter died down, "Oh milaya (sweetheart) you are so funny. You know that everyone else sees it too, right? I mean you're both moping around the tower," the sarcasm somehow making her accent more prominent.

Your eyes widened and you tried your best to remain as composed as possible , "I am not moping."

"Oh you so are," She nudged bob who was sitting next to her with a no-so-secret smile on his face, "Bob isn't she moping?"

You cocked a brow at Bob while waiting for his reply. The sudden shift in attention to him suddenly made him nervous, you could see the shoulders stiffen and the hesitant look in his eyes before he began to answer. Bob looked at Yelena before beginning to slightly nod his head, "I think you might slightly be uhm, moping... just a little."

You stood up from the couch across Yelena and Bob and walked to the bar, "Wow. You guys are delusional."

Yelena watched as you began to pour water into a glass and take a sip, "So you're telling me that you think you've been acting completely normal while living with your ex-boyfriend for the past three weeks?"

"So what are we?" You gazed up into his deep blue eyes, never failing to notice the way they softened whenever they stared back into yours.

Bucky looked down at you, his right hand caressing your cheek as his lips hovered over yours, "What ever you want us to be. I'll be whatever you want me to be, as long as it means I get to be with you, love."

liar.

You choked on the water and wiped your mouth as the memory played back in your head, "He was never my boyfriend."

"Okay ex—whatever he was—he still has that look in his eyes whenever you pass by. Not to mention he is so unbelievably grumpy when you aren't around."

That made you look up from you glass, "Look? What look?"

Yelena groaned and threw her head back on the couch causing blonde strands to fall against her face, "When my sister said the relationship between you two was confusing, she wasn't lying."

You sighed and chugged the glass of water.

Yelena played with the over grown strands of blonde that covered her face and looked over to Bob, whose hair had also grown out quite a bit in the past few weeks. "You know I think it's time for me to get a trim, what about you Bob?"

"Uh, yeah I guess my hair has gotten pretty long." He said quietly while moving the brown strands out of his eyes.

You set your glass down and let out a breathy laugh, already knowing what Yelena was getting at. "If that's your way of asking me to give you two a haircut then the answer is yes."

Yelena smirked and nudged Bob before standing up to follow you into the bathroom.

"W-wait right now? It's almost one in the morning." Bob whispered.

You snorted and nodded as you all headed to the common room bathroom.

It was almost two in the morning and the three of you couldn't stop laughing as you played with Bob's hair and giving him wild hair cut ideas. You had already finished trimming Yelena's hair and you were almost finished with Bob's hair as you all giggled and joked around, until a harsh knock on the bathroom door brought the three of you to silence.

Bob looked up to you and Yelena from the chair you guys had placed in the bathroom, Yelena shrugged and walked over to the door as your ran your hands through Bob's hair and adjusting his new hair style.

The door creaked open revealing a grumpy looking Bucky in a black tank top and black sweatpants. His metal arm and biceps on full display. "What the hell are you guys doing at this hour—" Bucky cut himself off after looking past Yelena and locking eyes with you.

And your hands.

In Bob's hair.

A moment of silence went by. Bob gulped and Yelena turned to look at you then back to Bucky before she spoke, "Uhh can we help you?"

Bucky blinked and brought his attention back down to Yelena while he cleared his throat, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he did, "Just— uh, keep it down, it's late."

Yelena turned and looked at you with a smirk.

Oh no.

Oh god no.

You stared at Yelena, pleading for her to not do whatever the fuck she had planned.

"Actually— we were just finishing up in here, me and Bob had a haircut that was long overdue. You should get one too, I mean we do have the best hairstylist in here so."

Fuck you Yelena.

Bucky's expression shifted the slightest bit, most wouldn't be able to catch the way his eyes slightly widened, but you did. "That's... that's okay I just—"

"No really, me and Bob were just leaving." Yelena cut the tall and brooding man off and turned to face You and Bob shooting you a wink, "C'mon Bob!"

Bob shot you a remorseful look as he followed Yelena, "Thank you for the haircut!" He shouted his thank you followed by your name before him and Yelena disappeared in the darkness of the hallway.

Leaving you and Bucky.

Alone.

He stood in the doorway awkwardly and stared at the empty chair beside you before stepping into the bathroom.

"Still awake enough to give me a trim?" He shot you a small smile, the same charming smile that he always gave you when you used to cut his hair in this same bathroom years ago.

You stood there in a daze like an idiot before nodding your head and returning his smile.

Bucky walked the rest of the way over to you and sat in the chair, you felt his eyes staring holes into your back as you rinsed the comb and shears in the sink. You cleared your throat before breaking the unbearably awkward silence,

"Sorry if we woke you."

"Don't worry about it, couldn't sleep anyway."

You turned around to face him, a small pout on your lips that didn't go unnoticed by him. Nothing you did ever went unnoticed by him.

"Still having those nightmares?"

Bucky nodded slowly, watching your eyebrows furrow and a small frown form on your lips as he did.

"You still worrying about me doll?"

That earned him an eye roll from you, "In your dreams metal man."

He huffed out a laugh and carefully watched your reflection in the mirror while you sectioned off his thick hair.

It was quiet again, you focused on nothing but his overgrown mop head. Bucky noticed the way you refused to look in the mirror, not wanting to risk the chance of accidentally meeting his gaze.

"You and bob a thing?"

Of course that was the first thing he would ask. Nosy fuck.

"Does that bother you?"

"So you are?"

"No."

You sighed as his shoulders began to visibly relax after your response, you remained unfazed by his bombardment of questions into your personal life.

"All done."

Bucky watched you in the mirror as you hurriedly cleaned the hair off the floor. Your movements were urgent, like you couldn't breathe with his presence in the room.

"Wait."

Bucky didn't dare to touch you, yet he still reached out towards you before your hand twisted the doorknob, he couldn't waste an opportunity like this.

You faced him, an annoyed look on your face. He knew it was fake. All of it was. The shared glances that you pretended didn't faze you, the unbothered act you put on when you two were partnered up for a mission, or how you acted like his mere presence didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

He was closer now. Like he was scared of the space between you becoming too great, which frankly, was the least of his problems.

Your eyes met his, awaiting his response. What could he possibly have left to say?

"I— I'm sorry."

You laughed. Like a genuine laugh. The same laugh you always let out when you watched those ridiculous rom-coms. The kind of laugh Bucky would kill to hear again.

Not like this though. This wasn't the same.

"Is that all you have to say Congressman Barnes?" You turned around again to leave, but you were stopped by hand grabbing your wrist gently, like if he gripped you to hard, everything would shatter again.

"I—fuck—please just hear me out." You were against the door now, your eyes staring up into his.

"I know you a shitty apology is the last thing you want to hear, but I mean it. I know it won't fix shit but... it's worth a shot. I'm sorry for everything. For leaving. For wasting your time. For making you think I was ready for a relationship, but I am now. I swear. I get it if you want nothing to do with me, but please, just hear me out."

"Bucky—"

"I can't sleep at night without you next to me. I went to therapy for the nightmares, did all the stupid shit the lady told me. I got better, the nightmares went away for the most part, but now every time I close my eyes I see you."

His voice began to crack, you could see the hurt in his eyes.

"I see the tears in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way you kissed me like I could never do wrong. You knew I wouldn't come back, you knew how much of a coward I was, didn't you?"

Your eyes were glossed over now, before the tears spilled over you put cupped Bucky's face into your hand, your lips smashing onto his.

His hands found their way onto your hips, pushing you up against the door. Your hands slid up his tank top, your fingers running up and down his abdomen. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled you up to straddle his waist before setting you onto the kitchen sink, not daring to break the kiss.

You pulled at his tank top, signaling for him to take it off. Bucky groaned between kisses before he pulled away out of breath,

"Are you sure you—"

"Hurry up and fuck me James."

Bucky smiled at that and wasted no time taking off his shirt, his hands slid down to your little pj shorts you had on before he slid them off, leaving you in your underwear. He slid his right hand over your clothed clit that was soaking through the fabric.

His lips were latched back onto yours as he moved your panties aside, and gently rubbed your clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips as you kissed him hungrily. His fingers were covered in your slick as he broke from the kiss and moved down to where you sat on the sink.

He slid your panties off completely, discarding them to the side, you put your legs over his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair as his head dove in between your thighs. Two of his fingers pumped into your cunt as he sucked on the nub of your clit, the vibrations of his groans making you whimper and bit your lip.

"Fuck I missed you so much pretty girl. Still as sweet as ever." Bucky breathed out against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.

His tongue worked eagerly at your clit, he licked up your juices as if he'd been starving for days.

"F—fuck, James 'm gonna—" You moaned out as your thighs tightened around his head. His hands gripped onto them, keeping them there.

He could actually die like this. Wouldn't even be mad.

"Go ahead baby, come all over my face."

Bucky ate you out through your climax, groaning each time you tugged onto his hair.

"Holy shit." He beamed up at you, his stubbled covered in your juices,

"You taste just as good as I remember."

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he stood up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. You pulled at his pants and he took them off with no hesitation, while his lips remained on yours. You palmed his length through his boxers, pre-cum seeping through the fabric.

Sliding his boxers off, Bucky pumped his length before pulling toward the edge of the sink. He teased the head of his cock down your slick folds, before slowly inserting himself into your cunt.

He let out a groan, followed by a mumbled string of words about how much he missed you.

"Oh my god, yer' s'fuckin tight."

You let out a soft cry, before wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in close.

"J-james—ah— go s-slow please."

He wiped away the tears on your cheeks before kissing your forehead, "I will. Just tell me if you need me to stop, okay baby?"

You nodded and locked your legs around his hips while peppering his jaw with kisses. Bucky slowly thrusted up into you, his head thrown back in pleasure,

"Atta fuckin' girl. You take me s'fuckin well. Ain't that right pretty girl?"

You bit down on your swollen bottom lip, and nodded.

Bucky thrusted up into you, increasing his speed with each thrust, causing cries of pleasure to escape your lips while you to scratched at his back.

Bucky grabbed at your tits, squeezing them in his right hand before taking one into his mouth, rolling his tongue over your nipple.

The pace in his thrusts increased, never stopping nor slowing, his stamina was a high as ever. You let out a moan at the cold feeling of his metal fingers flicking your clit.

"J-james m'so close."

Bucky trailed kisses from your tits all the way to your neck, leaving marks and love bites along the way.

"I know baby, I know. Can feel ya'squeezin me—fuck!"

Buckys thrust were faster and rougher now as he sucked onto your neck,

"Cum on my cock pretty girl. Please. I need it. Need t'feel you." Bucky groaned out between thrusts.

Your nails scratched at his back as you both came to your climax. Out of breath, Bucky stared down at you with a boyish grin, leaning down he gave you a peck on the lips and carried you to the shower.

After a long hot shower that contained of sweet nothings from Bucky, as the two of you cleaned each others bodies, you walked out and wrapped yourself in a towel. Bucky following you.

You cleaned the steamy mirror and examined the marks that were scattered along your breast and neck, Bucky walked up behind you, towel criminally low on his waist.

"Missed seeing you like this." He wrapped his arms around your toweled body. "I missed you."

You turned around and smirked back at him,

"Good."

Bucky lifted a brow at you before snorting out a laugh, "What's that supposed to mean hm?"

You leaned up and gave him one last peck on the lips,

"It means you'll finally get to know how I felt."

Bucky shot you a confused look, before watching you slip out of his hold, and walking out of the steamy bathroom that now felt frigid.

Leaving him this time.

this is so out of my element LMAO. please lmk if you enjoyed y'all! yes this is based on the song ik its cliche leave me alone.

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butyoudidthis4what · 2 days ago

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You have me.

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x GN!Reader

5.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: hurt/comfort; lots of fluff; I checked many times to make sure this is gender neutral but if I missed something don’t hesitate to let me know; independent reader with a high pain tolerance who doesn’t want to be/isn't used to being taken care of; reader was in grad school at one point but no subject is specified; morphine; reader breaks their ankle while hiking (no super graphic description); reader gets an IV (no description); reader gets a little overwhelmed and emotional and cries at the end; no use of y/n or related.

Summary: Robby takes care of you when you injure yourself hiking.

AN: Written for this request sent in for the 1k celebration! The prompt was "I'm taking care of you now." I had another anon send in an ask that was about an injury and having to be mostly non-weight bearing and so I decided to combine the two! Based on two true stories so it's a little for myself and what I wish I had at the time. 😭 I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading!!

The gif will make sense, I just had to. 😂

“Are we trying to hide you from Robby?”

You smile at Kim through the pain and shake your head. “No point. He’s going to find out anyway and will just be more upset if he learns I’ve been here a while. Just don’t let him drag me into a trauma room over a sprained ankle ‘just in case’ please. I’d have gone to urgent care but I knew he’d have a conniption and just drag me back here for ‘better x-rays.’”

Kim laughs with you but glances at your ankle. “I think that’s gonna end up as more than a sprained ankle.”

“Nah,” you wave her off with the hand she’s not inserting an IV in, “I’ve sprained my ankles many times, I’m sure it’ll just be crutches, non-weight bearing for a day or two and out the door.” Kim throws you a look as she tapes down your IV. “I’m very torn because I trust your professional judgment and know you’ve already seen more of this than I will in my life, but I was able to hike the remaining mile back out on it. And I wasn’t able to get ice on it right away or get it elevated. So it’s probably just extra swollen and bruising from that. Right?”

“I mean maybe,” she shrugs at you. “But will you make sure I’m in the room when you tell him you hiked a mile back out on it because I’d really like to see his face?”

You share a laugh with her and nod. “You got it.”

“Thanks,” Kim smiles at you.

Robby looks at Dana with confusion and holds his hands up when she calls to him from the hub to let him know he’s needed in room 12. He’d been walking over to take a brief seat for the first time in several hours and check in on the board. He doesn’t question it though, just takes a deep breath to reset since the little break he thought he was getting has disappeared.

He grabs a dose of hand sanitizer and starts rubbing it in before walking in and stepping around the curtain. “Hi, I’m Dr. Rob- what the fuck?” Panic shoots through him seeing you in a hospital bed in his ED. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s a sprained ankle Michael. I’m otherwise perfectly okay. Came down wrong off a tree root.” You give him the most reassuring smile you can muster. Your eyes track him as he gets closer and pulls the ice Kim had gotten you off your ankle. “I didn’t even try to hide from you. How are you?”

He winces when he’s able to fully see it. “That is not a sprained ankle Honey.”

“That’s what I said.” Kim nods at Robby. “Didn’t believe me.”

“I didn’t not believe you, I just said I think the bruising and swelling might be worse because I had to hike the remaining mile back out on it.” You glance at Kim who’s grinning as she watches Robby take in that piece of information.

Robby cycles through a myriad of emotions and expressions before pulling his eyes from your foot to your face. “Because you hiked a mile back out on it.”

“Do you really think I was going to call for a fucking forest rescue, Michael?” you deadpan.

“Well no,” he huffs, “but you should have!” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Did you at least let one of them drive you here?” You know he’s talking about the friends you went hiking with. His attention returns to your ankle and he starts to palpate it a little.

“Yes,” you wince at the pressure he puts on your ankle, even with as light as it is. “It’s my right leg and I didn’t drive there to begin with.”

“Good,” he mutters, putting the ice back on your ankle. “Obviously you need x-rays, I’ll get you as far up in line as I can.”

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head at him. “Don’t give me special treatment and move me ahead of a bunch of people who have been waiting longer who I’m not worse than.”

“I’m not, this is a serious injury.” You start to argue, he knows you’re going to say you’re fine so he heads it off. “Don’t make me pull the M.D. card.”

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before you roll your eyes and look away. “Fine,” you sigh, deliberately overdramatic. “But may I also have something for the pain please, Doctor Robinavitch?”

“Shit! Yes!” In his panic and examination that part totally slipped his mind. He shoots you a look of apology before looking to Kim. “5 of morphine, please.”

“You got it.” Kim nods as she goes to step out and get it.

Robby walks up to the head of the bed once Kim is out of the room. “Hi,” he murmurs with a little smile. He leans down and gives you a kiss, a lingering one to reassure himself you’re okay. “How is the rest of you? Seriously.”

“Hi yourself, handsome.” You smile at him and steal another kiss. “I meant it, maybe a few scratches, but I’m okay. I promise.” You watch as his eyes drag over your body trying to convince himself. “You can get me naked and look me over tonight at home, okay?” You smirk at him, trying to get him to relax a little.

“I mean I’d like to do it now, but okay.” Robby returns your smirk which makes you smile, happy to see at least some of worry come off his face. He pulls away from you and grabs the stool, wheels it over to you, sits on it and grabs your hand as Kim walks back in to administer the morphine.

“Alright, might sting and taste weird.” Kim tells you as she flushes your IV, pushes the morphine and flushes it again.

“Thanks, Kim.” You smile at her. “You’re about to be my favorite person here.”

“Hey I ordered it!” Robby reminds you.

“Not technically,” you smirk at him. You know he’s not going to be the physician of record.

Kim chuckles. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you. And can you send whichever other doctor you see next in, please?” Kim nods at Robby as he walks back out of the room and closes the door. Robby gives your hand a little squeeze. “I’m sorry I forgot pain meds and you had to actually fucking ask me for them.” Robby shakes his head at himself. “Should’ve been what I took care of first.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand this time. “Don’t worry about it. I know you were a little panicked.”

Robby nods, gives you a melancholic smile. “I hate seeing you in a hospital bed.”

You raise your eyebrows at him a little and let a little smirk pull onto your face. “Now we both know that’s not entirely true, don’t we, Dr. Robinavitch.”

He flushes hard as he lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head at you. Before he can say anything Jack walks in.

“What’re you doing here?” The question falls out before you even realize.

“What’re you doing here?” Jack asks back in the same tone, teasing you.

“Well it’s obvious for me.” You gesture at your ankle.

“Well it’s obvious for me too.” Jack gestures at his stethoscope and around the room to make the point he’s a doctor and it’s a hospital. He chuckles at the look you give him. “I’m pulling a mid.”

“Can you put in the five of morphine Kim gave and order an ankle series?” Robby asks him.

Jack nods and logs into the computer, puts in the morphine and orders the x-rays. “What’d you do?” he asks.

“Sprained my ankle coming down wrong off a tree root.” You shrug at him.

Jack clicks his tongue as he logs out. “Not ideal.”

“Not particularly no,” you hum in agreement.

“Could be worse.” Jack smirks at you as he walks to the foot of your bed and starts to remove the ice to look for himself.

“It’s not just a sprain,” Robby tells you pointedly.

“Mm, yeah,” Jack grimaces a little, “I’d be surprised if there was nothing broken in there.” He puts the ice back.

Robby looks at Jack. “Didn’t believe me or Kim when we both said it wasn’t a sprained ankle.”

“That is not true. I didn’t not believe you.” You shake your head at Robby and then look at Jack. “I just said I think the bruising and swelling might be worse because I had to hike the remaining mile back out on it and so maybe it’s not as bad as you guys think.”

Jack raises his eyebrows and lets out a little laugh as he looks to Robby who’s shaking his head. “Pretty badass.”

“Thank you!” You give Jack a slightly hazy smile as the morphine hits while Robby renews his head shaking.

“You’re welcome. Orders are in. If you need anything call, otherwise I’ll be back when the x-rays are in. Robby,” Jack lifts his head a little at him. “I’ll come get you if we need, stay here otherwise if you want.”

“He better want,” you mumble. The physical exertion of the hike and the pain and the morphine are pulling you towards sleep.

“Thank you, Jack.” Robby nods at him as they both chuckle at you. Jack walks out, dimming the lights as he does and leaving you and Robby alone. “You should sleep if you’re tired Honey,” Robby murmurs to you.

“I’m okay,” you tell him unconvincingly. “Are you?”

“Yeah, just worried about you.” He brings your hand he’s still holding to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“I’m fine and I’ll be fine. Always am.”

“You’d be just as worried as I am right now if our positions were switched.” Robby gives you a knowing smile. “And no. It’s not different.”

“I think it is but I’m too on morphine and tired to argue,” you hum softly.

Robby laughs quietly. He leans up off the stool and gives you another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you sigh happily as he sits back down next to you. “And you have to let me win because I’m injured.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you have it.” Robby clocks the way your eyes have yet to reopen from the kiss. “Why don’t you rest until they come for your x-rays, yeah?”

“Mm,” you’re trying to form an argument back but can’t find one, “okay.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed when Robby wakes you up to get your x-rays. Once you’re back and they’re ready you have to smile to yourself as you watch Robby and Jack read your x-rays together.

“You fucked it up pretty good. Couple of different fractures, comminuted and avulsion.” Jack glances at you. “I’m honestly impressed you walked a mile on it.”

Robby walks back over to your bed and sits in the chair he pulled up once you fell asleep earlier. “I am too.”

“Wow,” you draw the word out. “I’m surprised you aren’t more upset with me about it if anything.”

“I was never upset I was worried and hate the thought of you in pain and having this fucked up of an ankle being forced to walk a mile on it.” He leans up and kisses your forehead before settling back in the chair. “And, I told you so. So did Kim and Jack.”

You roll your eyes at him. “That was rude.”

“But true,” Jack quips. You shoot him a fake glare. “I want Ortho to come take a look. Might need surgery once the swelling goes down. They’ll probably want an MRI at some point but might want to wait for some of the initial swelling to go down.”

You groan. “Can’t you just cast it or whatever and let me go home and Ortho can review the film when they’re able. If they need me to come back then I will.”

Both Robby and Jack are shaking their heads. “They need to decide what kind of cast you’re going home in,” Robby tells you.

You sigh and rub at your face. “Then can I cash in on doctor’s significant other privileges to get them down here and to me asap, please?”

“Yeah, I’ll call and see what I can do, okay?” Jack waits for you to nod at him. “I’ll be back with their estimate of how long they’ll be.”

“Thanks Jack,” you mumble as he leaves.

“What’s up?” Robby raises his eyebrows at you. He knows there’s something going on. It’s unlike you to be this antsy.

You shrug. “I’m just tired and sweaty and feel gross and am in pain and want to go home and wash off and be in bed with you. And I’m hungry. So I’m just, I don’t know, eager to be home and restless in that almost kind of anxiety causing way.”

“I know what you mean, yeah. Let’s see how long Ortho will be and if they won’t be particularly quick I’ll order some food.” He glances at his watch. “You can have more meds here soon. I’ll make sure you get them as soon as you can.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.

Jack lets you know a minute or two later Ortho will be about an hour because they’re in surgery, so Robby gets you your favorite from your favorite place with something for him and Jack too. You’re able to eat and Ortho comes to see you right as you finish. You’re told that you’ll need surgery in a week once the swelling has gone down, they’d like an MRI before surgery, and that you should be in a soft cast. Robby gets everything scheduled and then casts your ankle for you. You get one last booster of morphine through your IV, a pair of crutches, and a bottle of pain meds and then Robby’s finally wheeling you out of the Pitt.

“I feel better already just being home.” You stand behind Robby as he opens the front door for you. You crutch straight into the master bathroom when you and Robby get home. Your plan is to get out of these clothes and wipe yourself off quickly and just get in bed. You put the toilet seat cover down and sit on top of it for a quick rest. “I’m gonna get out of the clothes and grab a cat bath while you shower your day off and then get in bed,” you tell Robby as he follows you into the bathroom.

“I can give you one.” He tilts his head at you. “Or I can wrap your cast and you can sit in the tub and I’ll shower you like that. Perks of a hand held shower head.”

You smile at him appreciatively. “I can wash myself. You should take a shower and relax, and that angle will hurt your back and I don’t want that.”

He clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head when you bring up his back. “My back will be just fine. And washing you and having my hands all over your naked body is going to be quite relaxing, I promise.”

You laugh at that and Robby feels a little surge of pride. He often does when he pulls that sound from you. “I can take care of myself though. I don’t want to add more stress than I already do to your life and become more of a burden.”

Robby’s face furrows and he shrinks back a little in surprise, your words totally catching him on his back foot. “Woah, where is any of that coming from?”

“What do you mean?”

“You thinking you add stress to my life and are a burden.” His face falls a little, sadness coloring his brown eyes. “Do I make you feel like that?”

“No!” You’re quick to get out, almost jumping a little like you wanted to launch yourself at him but remembered your ankle. “No, not at all. I just… I feel like that. It’s kind of my default view of myself I guess, especially when I’m sick or injured. Or emotional.”

He believes you. That he doesn’t make you feel that way and it’s just an internalized thing you have. Robby walks over in front of you and kneels down in front of you, eyes on your ankle the entire time to make sure he doesn’t bump it. “Honey,” he takes his hands with yours and squeezes. “I can’t tell you how much that’s not true. You don’t add stress and you aren’t a burden. You’ve never been a burden and you’ll never become one.”

“Never say never,” you try to joke. You’re unsurprised when it doesn’t land with him right now. “I mean I know I add stress. You’re telling me you’re not stressed right now about me and my foot? You told me you were worried.”

“I’m going to say never because I know you won’t. I love you far too much for you to ever feel like a burden to me. Taking care of you and soothing you and helping to talk you down or just listening to you vent is always going to be something I cherish having the opportunity to do.” He lets go of your hands so that his can rub up and down your arms soothingly. “And yes, I was worried. I still am in a way and will always be in a sense. The same way you are about me, yeah? That isn’t the kind of stress you’re talking about. You’re not work or Gloria or that kind of stressor. You don’t think I’m a source of stress or a burden, do you?”

“No, but-”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head. “There is no but.”

You shrug at him, unsure of what to say.

“Hey. You’re the opposite of a stressor. You take away my stress. Just being around you makes me feel so much better. Knowing I have you and can come home and fall into you, that makes it all more bearable. You’re not a stressor or a burden to me. You’re… home. And safety. You’re my place where I can vent or even ignore the rest of the world because I know you’ve got me. I can just look at you and have the rest of the world fall away because at the end of the day I really only need you to survive.” He leans up and cranes his neck to give you a quick kiss to seal his words, try and get you to hear him and believe him because he knows how hard it can be, on a personal level and for you. “So how about you let me do this? I’m going to grab some supplies and then I’ll do your cast and we’ll get you in the shower and all clean and go from there.”

“Okay. Thank you,” you murmur.

He gives you another kiss. “Anytime, Honey.”

Robby is quick to gather what he needs for your cast and your favorite pair of pajamas to get you in after you’re dry. “Alright, let’s get this waterproof. Or as waterproof as possible.” He kneels in front of you again and takes a trash bag and carefully slides it up and over your cast before using the drawstrings to get it tight but not circulation altering tight. He takes the waterproof medical tape and wraps around the top of the bag, onto the actual bag and several times at the seam of the bag and your leg. “I think that’ll do it.” He looks up and smiles. “I’ll be careful where I spray.” He winks at you.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

Robby nods at you. “Okay now let’s get you in.” You crutch yourself over to the tub and Robby helps you strip and get sitting down in it. “We’ll get a shower chair for you since you’re going to need it for a while.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan a small laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” Robby holds up his hands in an apology before taking his shirt off.

Your eyes drag all over his chest and tummy and shoulder and arms. “All’s forgiven.”

He snorts a small laugh and rolls his eyes at you, but you see the touch of pink that hits his cheeks, chest and neck. “I’m rolling with that’s the reason I took it off and am taking these off,” he says as he takes his cargo pants off, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You chuckle at him and shake your head even though you started it really.

Robby grabs the shower head and gets the shower going and to the temperature you like before moving it over you and getting your hair and torso wet. He takes his time showering you, eyes dragging over your skin as he soaps up your body just to reassure himself you’re really okay everywhere else like the two of you discussed in your hospital room.

Once he’s finished he very carefully helps you out of the tub and dries you while you hold onto his shoulders for balance. You hold onto the sink as he does your hair how you ask. He gets you in a pajama shirt of yours and a pair of his boxer briefs that he takes painstaking care to get on you without hurting you and settles you in bed, helps you find a comfortable position and finds extra pillows and uses them to prop your ankle up. Robby grabs you drinks and some snacks from the kitchen just in case and makes sure you have the remote before he hops in and takes one of the quickest showers of his life so he can get back to you.

You frown at him when he walks into the bedroom with a towel tied at his hips what can only be five or so minutes later. You know he likes to take a hot soak after work to help his muscles. “You didn’t need to speed. I’m okay.” Your eyes roam him, appreciating the view.

“I know, but I wanted to be back with you.” He walks to the dresser and drops his towel as he puts a pair of pajama pants on. You greedily take in that view and Robby can feel your eyes on him, gives you a little smirk, eyebrows raising at you in amusement. Like he frequently does, he doesn’t bother with a shirt. Knows you like the view even if he doesn’t understand why. “Need anything?”

“A kiss.”

He chuckles softly and climbs into bed next to you, scooting all the way over to you. “Anything for you, my Dear.”

Your heart melts a little at the name. It’s not what he normally calls you, but he uses it every now and then and every time he does you melt. There’s something about the way he says it, the way the timbre of his voice wraps around the two words. It just sounds like love.

He leans in and kisses you, lets you take as many as you want and deepen each one. When you break apart he kisses your forehead before pulling away.

Robby sighs as he settles into bed at your side. “You at least timed it nicely so that I have my string of offs starting. It’ll just be some time for surgery and recovery.”

“Absolutely no way in hell are you taking time off because I broke my ankle.” The look you give him is almost offended. “I’m not taking time off. I’ll go to work on Monday.”

Robby shakes his head. “You need to stay home for at least a couple of days and rest it and keep it elevated. Icing and resting is seriously important, you need the swelling down for surgery. Your job is not conducive to that. And I’m absolutely taking time off when you have surgery. You really think I’m going to leave you here alone to recover?”

“I’ll be fine. At work and after surgery. I get you have to take off the day of surgery because I need a ride, but after that, the next day, I’ll be okay alone.” You nod at him and give him a little smile to try and reassure him.

“No,” he draws the word out a little and gives you a slightly incredulous look. “You’ll have just had surgery and be on pain meds and to rest and not be crutching around on vicodin or oxy or whatever they give you and trying to get things for yourself.”

“Yes, and I’ll be able to just fine,” you sigh. “I’ve done it before. On the day of surgery too.”

He blinks at you for a couple of seconds. “Excuse me, you did what?” The question isn’t mean or angry, it’s somewhere between disbelief and resignation and you have to fight back a little smile at it.

“When I was in grad school it was winter break and like all but one of my friends had gone home. I was able to get one to drive me there and then come back and pick me up after surgery and drop me off at home.” You shrug at him. “I was perfectly fine and that was a two story townhouse, so.”

“I… The… You should’ve…” Robby shakes his head to himself. “I’m just gonna let that go for tonight.”

“So I’ll be fine the day after. I’ve got it. I’m very good on crutches and have all sorts of tricks for carrying things around while on them,” you tell him before he can say anything else. You really don’t want him to have to take more time off than strictly necessary and to you that means just the day of. You’re not used to the idea of someone taking care of you when you’re hurt. Of someone wanting to take care of you when you’re hurt. Robby takes care of you all the time of course, but this is different to your mind and your brain can’t quite seem to wrap itself around it all.

“Honey.” Robby lets out a long breath and gives you a soft smile, holding your gaze so you really hear him. “I know you can take care of yourself and navigate on the crutches, I don’t doubt it. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m here to take care of you. You’re not that grad student who’s alone and doesn’t really have anyone anymore, okay? You have me. I’m here. You don’t have to take care of yourself alone or get yourself through this alone anymore. I’m not going to let you.”

“I…” You trail off and swallow hard. You’re not sure what to say to that. You know you’re not alone and that you have him. But you’ve taken care of yourself while sick and injured for a good while now, since you left home. You’ve never been particularly sick around Robby and this is your first true injury so it’s hard to accept. You clear your throat. “Still.”

Robby shakes his head, keeping his small smile. He hates that you ever had to take care of yourself alone. “I’m taking care of you now,” he murmurs.

“Okay,” you whisper with a nod. “Thank you.” You look away from him and close your eyes trying to convince yourself it’ll hide the tears that must be obvious in them.

But Robby saw them before you turned away, and he sees your trembling jaw now and a couple of tears slip out of your closed eyes down the sides of your face. His brows furrow in concern, corners of his lips pulling down and he moves back in a little closer to you and runs his hand up and down your arm. “Hey, why the tears, Honey?”

You sniffle and open your eyes, a cascade of tears slipping from them. “I’m just emotional.” You shrug at him. You’re not sure how to explain you’re just overwhelmed by his love and care and affection in a good way. “And because you’re so good to me even when I fight you on it and you’re better than I deserve and, and…”

“Because you’re exhausted and in pain and everything’s overwhelming?” Robby fills in for you.

“Yeah.” Your voice cracks on the word and you break down into proper sobs, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry,” you choke out, “I’ll be fine, just give me a second.”

“Shh, don’t apologize, don’t apologize,” he tries to soothe you as he gets as close to you as he can, does his best to take as much of your upper body into his arms and against his chest and torso as possible. You settle your head against his chest and cling to him as best you can in this position. Robby holds you as you cry it all out, whispers that he loves you and he’s got you, runs his hands over you wherever they can reach.

Your tears eventually cease, leaving you exhausted and stuffy nosed and with a pounding head in their wake. You keep resting on Robby as your breathing evens out from shuddery hiccupped breaths to something more normal.

“Okay,” Robby whispers once you’ve really settled. He adjusts you so that the two of you can look at each other, you up at him, him down at you. “I’m not better than you deserve. You deserve everything. You deserve to be taken care of the same way you take care of others.” He can read the look in your eyes, how appreciative of his words you are, how thankful you are for them and him, how you really can’t talk about it all anymore tonight, just too tired and overwhelmed at this point. “I got you.” He nods.

“Thank you. For all of it.” You give him the best smile you can right now.

“You’re welcome.” He glances over at the alarm clock. “You can have more pain meds now. And I know you’re not going to like it but I’m going to wake you up in the middle of the night at dosage time to keep on top of pain control, okay?”

You sigh and shake your head. “You don’t have to do that, Michael. You can just tell me and I can set an alarm. You need to sleep. I can just wake up and do it myself.”

“You could yeah,” he nods, “or I can wake up with you and make sure you get your meds and check on you in general and get you anything you might need. And then we’ll go back to sleep together.”

“It’s not fair to ask you to do that. Or any of this.” You sound so sad, voice still raw from the tears. It makes his heart ache.

“You’re not asking. And there’s nothing unfair about it. You’d do the exact same for me and you know it, and no, it’s not different.” You shrug in response, chin trembling again a little. “Alright, Honey. We need to get you some sleep. I’m going to let you go for a second so I can grab your meds, okay?”

“Okay.” You sniffle and help him lay you back down, wipe at his chest with your pajama top where you got it wet by crying into him.

Robby’s quick to get the pill out of your prescription bottle and grab the water off his nightstand. You slip your pajama top off as he does, just want to feel his skin against yours as much as possible. He helps you lean up enough so you can take the pill without choking and then helps you lower back down.

“This position comfortable for you?” His eyebrows raise at you a little in that adorable intently expectant way they do whenever he asks you a question like that.

“Yeah.” You pout just slightly, widen your eyes as you look up at him. “But can you try to find a comfortable position lying down for you that lets us cuddle?”

He nods, smiles at your little pout. Like you even had to ask him. “I can do more than try, I’ll find a position.”

“But it has to be comfortable so you’ll sleep.”

“Yep.” Robby sets an alarm for the next time you can have meds and then moves closer to you and wiggles around until he finds a position comfortable for him that has the two of you cuddling. “This work for you? I promise it’s comfortable for me.”

“Mhm. Thanks.” You’re already exhausted by the day and the meds and the crying, so Robby’s warmth and his closeness have you getting dragged under and to sleep fast. “Love you Mikey.”

He laughs softly to himself at the nickname that seems to only ever really come out when you’re super sleepy like this. “I love you too, Honey.”

I hope it was okay and you enjoyed! Thank you for reading! Your support and your interactions mean the world to me and give me so much motivation and I love hearing your thoughts and comments!! ♥️

I did in fact step off a tree root wrong while hiking once and have to hike the remaining mile back out. Unlike Reader, however, I was correct and nothing was broken, it was just all soft tissue damage, but the doctor looked at me like I was insane for hiking out on it. I also did have a friend drop me off from having surgery and was alone in a two story townhouse post anesthesia (don't try this at home) while in grad school.

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heavyhitterheaux · 3 days ago

Text

The Quarterback

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: Joe finally said yes to being on The Quarterback series by Netflix. Follow Joe and Wifey through the 2024 NFL season and see how she supports him through year five of his career.

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

June 2021

It was official.

The two of you had now been married for a little over a week (well the public wedding) and were settling nicely into your brand new house.

The honeymoon would start next week, however, Joe told you that he had a surprise for you.

“Just a little further, baby. Almost there.”

“I am wearing six inch heels, Burrow. You better not let me fall.” You told him as he was guiding you while covering your eyes.

“I would catch you if you do and when have I ever let anything happen to you?”

“Hmm, first time for everything.”

“Babe!”

“Did I lie?”

“I'm ignoring you. Okay, now open them.”

Listening to directions, you opened your eyes to see a white baby grand piano staring back at you.

Your jaw immediately hit the floor as tears welled up in your eyes.

He remembered.

Remembering back to your sophomore year when you told Joe that playing the piano was one of your first loves and then explaining to him a few months later that you wanted to get back into it, your wish finally came true.

And this wasn't just any piano, it was top of the line and you could only imagine how expensive it was.

“Oh no. You don't like it? We can get a different one.” Joe asked as he was clearly taken aback by you being so quiet.

“No, I love it. You remembered.” You told him as you grabbed his hand and tightly squeezed it.

“Just think of it as a wedding gift from me.”

“Thank you for this. I can only imagine how much this was, it's a fucking Steinway.” You said as you were running your fingers over the keys.

“And I'm definitely not telling you. Just like I'm not telling you how much your wedding ring was because that's not happening. But my wife deserves the best and if I have the ability to give her the best, I'm going to do it.”

“Maybe I'll learn my lesson one day and stop asking.”

“I highly doubt that. But for now, how about you play me something?”

“Of course.” You stated as you smiled and reached up to kiss him.

November 16, 2023

Going to away games often wasn't something you normally did, but when your schedule allowed for you to specifically come to this one and a special request was made by Joe himself, there was no way that you were going to say no.

Sitting in the stands next to your mother-in-law, you watched intrigued as it was the Bengals ball. As Joe went to throw downfield, once the ball left his hand, he immediately grabbed his wrist indicating that something was wrong.

Robin quickly nudged you before glancing at you for confirmation on what the two of you had just witnessed.

“Did you..?” She asked and you slowly nodded while trying to stay calm.

A million thoughts started going through your head, with the main one being that this would be his second injury since starting his NFL career.

“I just pray it's not as serious as we may think it is.” You tried to keep a confident look on your face, but Robin immediately frowned.

“Only thing we can do at this point.”

You looked on with a nervous gaze as Joe jogged to the sideline and was speaking with medical personnel as they began to examine it.

It wasn't until he attempted to throw a pass on the sideline and winced in pain when you had your answer.

“Shit.” You quietly said underneath your breath.

Not being too far away from the Bengals sideline, you could somewhat make out what Joe was saying at your attempt of reading his lips.

It looked to be, ‘I can't throw’.

After there was another attempt to throw and with it being unsuccessful, Joe immediately threw his helmet to the side before jogging into the direction of the locker room.

While all around you, the loud chants could be heard.

“Fuck Joe Burrow!”

January 2024

Two in the morning had suddenly crept up on Joe and he was still wide awake staring at the ceiling. You were curled up into his side, but basically laying halfway on him as his left arm was wrapped around you.

He had been wide awake for hours even though he was exhausted. Glancing down at his right wrist, he sighed before feeling you shift beside him. Peeking your eyes open, you noticed that your husband was wide awake and the television was on a low volume probably in the hopes that it wouldn't wake you up.

Poking his side to get his attention, he looked down at you and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“What are you doing up, pretty girl?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I know that you're tired.”

“Just can't sleep.”

“What's on your mind? Talk to me.”

Hearing him sigh once more, he just shook his head, but there was no way you were accepting that as an answer.

“No, babe. You need to tell me and stop holding onto it. We don't do that around here.”

“What if I never play the same?” He asked you, clearly upset.

“But what if you end up playing better?”

“Baby, there is literally no other quarterback who has had this injury before so it's not like I have anyone to go to for advice about this.”

“Okay, you're the first one. So what? That should be more motivation to prove them wrong. I have literally never seen someone work as hard as you do and as passionate about their career. I have all the confidence in the world, no, the universe in my husband because he is amazing and was drafted first overall pick for a reason. Which I told you that you would be. Just like I predicted your Heisman win. You can do this, I know you can.”

“I still can't believe out of all things, I did that.”

“Nothing we can do about it now, but move on. You got your surgery, now it's time for rehab and I just got an idea. It'll probably help with the flexibility of it and keep it loose.”

“What's that?”

“I'll teach you how to play the piano. Might as well put it to good use.”

June 2024

It was around ten at night and you were in your bathroom doing your skin care routine when Joe peeked his head in to see what you were doing. You saw him out of the corner of your eye before he said anything to you and demanded that he joined you.

You had noticed a blackhead at the top of his back this morning and was determined to get it off one way or another. If he wanted to be a baby about it and scream then so be it.

“Baby! Come here and do this face mask with me.”

“But…” Joe started to protest and you glared at him making him slowly walk in and stand next to you.

“Good. Now sit.”

After he sat down, you ran a warm wash cloth over his face and stole a kiss before putting on the face mask and setting another timer for when he should wash it off. Yours would probably be going off in six minutes and you started to place your face products that you wouldn't need anymore back in the cabinet when you heard his voice.

“Babe..”

“Yes, my love?” You replied as you put the last product away and turned to him.

Joe patted his leg telling you to come over to him and sit. Once you made yourself comfortable, he opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you wrapped an arm around him.

“I just want to get your opinion on something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I'm only asking because you're included in this and if you aren't comfortable you don't really have to do it, but…”

“Pookie, you're rambling. Out with it.”

“I said yes to being on the second season of The Quarterback. So it will cover the upcoming season.”

It was quiet for a minute and you looked at him confused.

“But, why now? What changed?”

“I mean if you tell me no, I won't do it.”

“I didn't say that. I just want to understand why you changed your mind. I mean ever since you came into the NFL, it has been all business with you. You keep things completely professional and don't really let people in about your personal life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but baby, you hate cameras and you are only in front of them if you absolutely have to be. That show is pretty invasive privacy wise to your standards.”

“I know, but I had a talk with Peyton and it kind of opened my eyes more. This could end up being a good thing and I don't have to show anything that I don't want to. It can focus on me coming back from my wrist injury and how I'm starting to open up more and try new things.” He told you as you started to pick at the blackhead since you were at the perfect angle.

“As long as you are okay with it. You know I'm supporting you until the wheels fall off. I just want you to be completely sure about this.”

“I asked because you are obviously going to be in it when we start filming. You are one of the main reasons why I stay sane during the season. OW!”

“Got it! That blackhead had been bothering me all day. I just unclogged one of your pores. Can I at least get a thank you?”

“No.”

“But I can get a kiss right!?”

“You can have as many as you want once I wash this stuff off of my face. But on a serious note, thank you baby for always supporting me. I mean…. I honestly don't know where I would be without you.” He told you as he squeezed your hip.

“Aww, you give me way too much credit. You would still be a bad ass quarterback with or without me.”

“But with you, I'm better. I love you and don't you ever forget that.”

“Forever and always, babe. I love you more than anything. Now let's wash these off so I can get those kisses that you owe me.”

Episode One: New Beginnings

The two of you were sitting side by side on the piano bench as Joe had told you this morning when you woke up that he had been practicing one of your favorite songs.

He didn't tell you which one in the hopes that you would be able to recognize it when you heard the first few notes and to ultimately keep it as being a surprise.

As he began to play the first few notes with the camera crew behind the two of you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion on which song it was.

“Wait, I messed up. Let me start over. I guess I shouldn't even ask you if you know what song it is because it definitely didn't sound like it.” Joe quietly said as he laughed.

You shook your head at him with a smile as he started to play again with you recognizing it this time.

“AH! It's our wedding song!” You exclaimed as you recognized the complete intro to Beyoncé's Halo.

“I walked down the aisle to this even though by that time we had already been married for about a month and a half.”

“It was her last year at LSU, and I had just gone down to visit her and next thing we knew we were at the courthouse saying our vows.”

“And my parents found out when my actual degree got mailed to my parents house and my mom opened it because she obviously knew what it was to see that it said Y/N Katherine Burrow. I forgot to change the address and send it to Cincinnati instead. All you could hear on my end of the phone was her yelling.” You quietly said before laughing.

“But the idea of learning how to play piano came from her since she had played since…” Joe trailed off as he looked at you for the answer.

“I was about 4 or 5 when I started.”

“I don't know if it helps with the flexibility and keeping my wrist loose, but it can't hurt at this point. It's something else to do since there's only so many documentaries and tv shows that you can watch all day. That gets boring real fast. I guess this is my calm before I prepare myself to do crazy shit each week.”

“You're getting really good at playing. Pretty soon, you're going to be better than me.” You smiled as you admired him.

“I don't know about all that. You have a lot more years playing than I do.”

“You'll get there. Maybe I can start putting in requests for my favorite songs.”

“Whatever you want, I'm all for it.”

“So I was at the game with my mother-in-law Robin when Joe hurt his wrist. At first I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but I knew for a fact that he was wincing in pain. So of course all these thoughts started running through my head. One of the main things being that this would be his second injury since he got drafted. After it happened all I literally heard people in the stands saying ‘fuck Joe Burrow’ as he's jogging off to the locker room and that was hard to hear of course. You never want to hear someone talk about your significant other that way. And I'm tiny, it's not like I can fight every person in the stadium who was saying it.”

“I don't think I went on any social media platform for about a week. I usually don't go on there at all, but especially then.” Joe told you as he finished up the last few notes.

“I didn't either. Because of course you have those people that want to talk shit about him and quite frankly, I don’t have time to argue all day because the stats speak for themselves that ultimately prove them wrong. But after all that, once we figured out exactly what was wrong, the wheels in my head immediately started turning about how we can get him ready for next season. I know how important this is to him so obviously I'm going to do everything that I can to support him. That came with a lot of pep talks and encouragement.”

“And that's what I love and admire about her. She's all in and she's been that way since we first met at LSU and she's never wavered. She watches film with me, helps me to memorize play calls. I literally could not have asked for a better partner to do life with. The same way that she supports me, I support her.”

“I'll be here for the long haul. I'm going to be here long after you're done playing in the NFL. But obviously going to enjoy the ride and journey that you're on right now. I'm very very very proud of you and I'll tell you every chance I get.”

“Thank you, babe. I just can't believe we're in year five already.”

“I know. Next time we blink it'll be year ten. I don't know if I'm ready for that, yet.”

“Maybe by then I'll have a beard.”

“And promise me not to cut it off.”

“No promises because if it starts getting on my nerves, it's going to have to go.”

“Whatever. I'm not giving up. Been doing it since your rookie year. We got close, but of course he had to go and mess it up. So now we're right back at square one.”

“Babe, it was itchy and irritating.”

“No excuse. They make beard oil for that.”

Episode 2: Damn Near Perfect

It was a small family gathering as Joe's parents, your parents, as well as your twin were sitting around the dinner table. Periodically, they would make the trip to Cincinnati to see both Joe and Ja'Marr play and to also spend time with you.

Placing the last bowl on the table in the middle, you slid into your seat in between Joe and Ja’Marr, but not before pinching your twin which led to you laughing and him swatting your hand away.

“It's always good when we're able to all get together and this goes back to our days at LSU. Both me and Ja’Marr started the same year and our parents would be in the stands next to each other cheering us on. And meeting Ja'Marr also led me to meeting my wife.” Joe spoke as he looked at you and smiled.

“Ever since I introduced these two to each other, I have not known peace.” Ja'Marr stated as everyone laughed and you rolled your eyes.

“And to think that she had a boyfriend when we met, but I didn’t let that stop me. And you can see, I obviously won in the end.” Joe confidently said as he held up your hand to the camera to show off your wedding ring.

“I mean it was Ja’Marr's fault. You called me and said that you had someone you wanted me to meet. Guess you didn't know what you had in store for the future. Been third wheeling ever since.”

“Being the older twin by three minutes which she never lets you forget, is all she does. And what she says goes. Despite her barely being five feet tall.”

“I'm 5’1 if I stand up really straight on my toes.”

“Get the measuring tape because there is absolutely no way.” Ja’Marr replied and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I'm ignoring you.”

“You've been ignoring me since I introduced you to your husband so I'm used to it. All of your attention goes to him.” Laughter could be heard all around the table as you and Ja’Marr were of course bantering back and forth.

“Not arguing with you there.”

“She would always work out with us seeing as she was an athlete herself and did gymnastics so that's how we became closer. Then when my parents found out we were together, they would go to her competitions even after I graduated to support her.”

“Which I was so thankful for and when Joe was in training camp, they flew to Paris to watch me in the Olympics.”

“I remember when their first year was finished at LSU. Joe was back home for the summer and driving me absolutely insane. I stole his phone and called Y/N and I said will you please come and spend a few weeks with us before we go crazy because we are not going to make it if you don't. After I saw how she fit in perfectly with our family. I've called her my daughter-in-law ever since.” Robin confessed as she smiled in your direction.

“I wasn't even that bad!” Joe said as he tried to defend himself.

“You were. You were that bad.” Joe's dad, Jimmy added, making you laugh.

“I just remember getting to Baton Rouge and not understanding a word that anyone was saying. It definitely took me a minute to get used to the accents.”

“It took you a little while, but you finally got it.”

“I remember the first time I saw Y/N get mad at someone. Luckily it wasn't towards me, but that accent came out and everyone around us got quiet. Ja’Marr is standing there with his mouth hanging wide open and all while I like lean over to him and ask, ‘what in the world did she just say?’”

“And then I told him that it was nothing good and to be happy that she wasn't talking to you.”

“I don't even remember that.” You said while looking at the both of them confused.

“We do.” They replied in unison as you just shook your head.

“But we've just gotten closer ever since. Always considered him my brother, but it became official.”

“Our careers are tied together and we simply keep getting better and better. Sometimes I just have to give Ja'Marr a look and he immediately can read it and know exactly what I'm thinking.”

“I had gotten a call from him telling me that he would bring me to Cincinnati, but hearing my name called at the draft was… something else. To be able to play with my college quarterback in the NFL was a dream come true since I know how well we work together.”

“There was never a doubt in my mind that he was going to do it. I mean people on campus would ask me ‘is your brother going to the Bengals because of Joe?’ And I was like I have no idea, however, I believe that there is a 99% chance that that's where he's going to end up.” You added as Ja'Marr nodded and stole a nacho off of your plate which led to you smacking his hand.

“Still act as if they're three instead of 24.” Your mom stated as she shook her head and laughed at the both of you.

“You weren't eating it, so I thought I would take it off your hands.”

“Along with any other time you see me with food. But I love watching both of them play and seeing how they're so in sync with each other. We all know that nothing but greatness comes out of it.”

“Hope to be playing with each other for a long time.”

“Since we are all here, the most important people in our lives, we have something to tell you. Ja’Marr already knows so he isn't allowed to say anything.” You started to say and all of them looked at you confused.

“Are you sure that I already know? I think I might have forgot.” Ja’Marr said, trying to think about what you had told him recently of significance.

“Let me go and get it. And yes, Ja'Marr but I promise you that you didn't forget.”

Heading up to your room, you grabbed the five gift boxes before making your way back downstairs and handing one to each of them including Ja’Marr.

Once you sat down, they looked at you and Joe for confirmation to open them.

“Okay, go ahead and open them.”

Your mother was the first to let out an ear piercing scream when she saw her shirt that said, “world's best grandma’ with Robin's scream following soon after.

Both of your dad's were looking at one another and you honestly thought that yours was going to cry.

“YOU'RE PREGNANT!?!?” Robin yelled as you nodded and smiled at her.

“Yes and that's not all.”

“What else could there be?” Your dad asked and you looked at Joe to answer.

“There's two of them so we're having twins.”

“I'm so excited for the both of you.” Your mom asked as she came over to hug both you and Joe.

“You two are going to be amazing parents.”

“So that means I guess I can stop stealing baby uno all the time.”

“And buying him big screen tv's so he can watch Ms. Rachel and Gracie's Corner in HD.”

“I'm just setting him up for greatness.” You replied as you held your hands up in defense while your twin rolled his eyes.

“And now we get to add two more people to it.”

When everyone had left and it was just you and Joe, the two of you were sprawled out on the couch in the living room when you looked up at him.

“How are you feeling about this week?” You asked as Joe sighed before giving an answer.

Playing a division rival was always a big deal, but an even bigger deal when it came to the Baltimore Ravens.

“I'm feeling okay, my wrist is feeling good. But I know that I have to play damn near perfect for us to come away with a win.”

You nodded your head letting him know that you understood before replying.

“You got this, and I have all the confidence in the world in you. It might go better than you think.”

“That’s true. I guess we just have to wait and see.” He shrugged as we wrapped an arm around you in order to bring you closer.

“I think our parents' reactions earlier was like the highlight of my week.” You told him as he let out a quiet laugh.

“And Ja’Marr acting as if he didn’t know anything already.”

“I thought my mom was going to rupture our ear drums with how loud she screamed. But she gets to do this for a second time so I know that she's excited.”

“I can't even imagine how spoiled they're going to be. I see how you are with baby uno and I just think about that times two.”

Episode 3: Beautiful Minds

It was an early start to the day as the camera crew set you up in the kitchen as the mic pack was hanging from your back pocket. Joe had already gone to practice and the producers made you aware the night before that they wanted some footage of you and how you managed to help to keep Joe focused during the season.

Sitting at your island, the makeup artist came over to you to make sure there wasn't a hair out of place and if anything needed touching up before the cameras would begin rolling.

When you were finally settled, one of them smiled at you before asking, ‘What's up with Joe's obsession with fossils?’ This led to you essentially laughing and shaking your head as you tried to come up with a good answer.

“Okay so, Joe might be the biggest nerd, I mean that in a loving way, I have ever met. You know that one kid in class that was always so smart and basically too smart for their own good? That's my husband. We'll just be sitting down watching a movie and then he states some random ass fact. Like ‘did you know that so and so did this?’ And I look at him in disbelief like how in the world did you know that? He just shrugs and moves on to the next thing while I'm still sitting there confused. He does this all the time and then goes back to what he was doing as if nothing happened.” You answered followed by a laugh.

“But I surprised him as I planned a trip for him and his friends to go to this museum in Chicago. I set it up where they had like a special tour showing them exclusive fossils and ones that were kept essentially in the back and not on display for the public. I basically texted all of his friends, so they knew. But I told them to keep him in the dark about it. He was very excited and couldn't stop talking about it when he got home. I just love seeing him like that and I could listen to him for hours as he talks about his interests because he's so smart and I'm always learning a weird fun fact from him.”

Thinking back on it, this had been happening since the two of you had met at LSU. One thing you always admired about him was how smart he was. Often times, he would help you study for your classes while still being able to focus on his as well as football.

“Once you get him started on a subject, he literally has to tell you every single little thing he knows about it. So, you might as well get comfortable because I promise that you aren't leaving any time soon.”

The camera suddenly cut to Joe on the practice field talking to anyone and everyone who would listen about his trip to the museum.

“Yeah, my wife surprised me. I had no idea where we were going. The only thing she said was to pack a bag and that she would drop me off at the airport.”

“What kind of fossils were you able to see?”

“A bunch. There were way too many to count. We also met the little old lady who works on them.”

“Did any of them have eggs?”

“Yeah, a few of them did. I did ask if I could buy some, but they told me no. And knowing my wife, she would probably tell me no, too.”

—

It was now week eight of the season and the Bengals would be facing the Philadelphia Eagles at home. This was the white out game and you of course planned to wear your white jersey that had Joe's number, but said Wifey Shiesty on the back of it.

Jimmy and Robin had mentioned that they were getting to the stadium early in order to get a head start on tailgating. Depending on the time that Joe would have to leave for games, you would either leave with him or end up coming later when the crowds had hopefully died down a bit.

Today since your in-laws specifically asked for you, you would leave a little early and be able to see Joe after the game which would hopefully end in a win.

“Babe! I'm leaving.” You yelled up the stairs as you grabbed your keys that were hanging in the foyer.

Joe peeked out of your bedroom and came down the steps two at a time before catching you in a kiss before sending you on your way.

“Did you read your note that I left for you?” You asked as he brought you into a hug and you tightly wrapped your arms around him.

“I did, thank you. And I know I tell you this all the time, but you look good in my jersey.”

“AHT! Not so fast, my name is on the back instead of yours.” You told him as you broke away from him to turn around so that he was able to see it.

“When did you get that? I don't remember you having it. And technically half of my name is on it.” He asked as his fingers ran over the letters.

“Your mom bought it for me. She also told me that she had another surprise for me but I guess I'll see it once I see her at the stadium.”

“I'll see you when I get there. I love you.” Joe told you as he leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose.

“I love you too. Good luck today.”

“You'll be there so that's all the luck that I need. And text me to let me know that you got there safely.” He replied as he gave you one last hug.

“I will. Promise.”

Pulling into the parking lot at Paycor, you looked down at your phone to see a text from Robin letting you know where they were.

Once you grabbed your phone, keys, and purse from the passenger seat, you quickly started walking to meet them.

When she spotted you, you immediately got pulled into a hug by her and Jimmy along with a few of Joe's cousins that had come to the game to support him.

“Hey, you two really weren't playing when you told me that you planned to start early.”

“Jimmy has literally been up since seven in the morning driving me crazy. Oh! Here's your gift! I got us matching jackets in New Orleans!” Robin told you as she held it up.

It was a white base with black stripes which was perfect to go along with the theme today.

“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! I love it. Thank you.” You told her as she helped you put it on.

“I saw it and immediately thought you needed one right along with me. How's Joe feeling today?” She asked as Jimmy handed you a lemonade.

You gave him a quiet thank you before answering her.

“He feels good. He went to bed at like dusk because he's such an old man during the season. We woke up around the same time and ate breakfast together. He was still getting ready when I left the house, which reminds me that I need to text him to let him know I got here safely.”

Pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you opened the text thread and quickly began typing.

You- Just got here. With your parents and I'm safe.

Hubby 💕- Good. I'm leaving soon. Might need you on the sideline for another good luck kiss before the game starts.

You- Whatever you need, baby 😉

“And how are you feeling?” Jimmy asked as he was flipping burgers and hot dogs on the grill.

“Well morning sickness absolutely sucks and I can't wait until that part of the pregnancy is over with.” You told them as you sighed. Robin nodded her head indicating that she understood where you were coming from.

“Other than that I'm good and I'm definitely going to need some nachos once we get inside.”

As promised, a few minutes before the game started, you made your way to the sideline as security guided you.

Your twin spotted you first and quickly ran up to you while picking you up into a hug.

“Hi, twin!”

“Hey, you staying down here for the game or going up to the suite?”

“Going up to the suite. Your best friend requested me down here before the game starts and then security is going to take me upstairs.”

Joe's head turned as he heard your voice and saw you talking to your twin as he made his way over.

Ja’Marr went to go and mess with Andrei leaving the two of you by yourselves.

“Mrs. Burrow.” He stated as he smiled at you.

“Mr. Burrow, I am here on the sideline as you requested.”

“Was the jacket the gift my mom bought you? She literally spoils you more than I do, I swear.” He asked as he reached out to touch it.

“Hey! We had to be matching today! And it's comfy. Stop being a hater.” You replied as you wrapped it tighter around you.

“Have no idea what I'm going to do with you.” He teased as he pinched your cheek making you smile.

“Absolutely nothing because you love me. Now come and get your kisses so I can go upstairs and get my nachos.”

Joe leaned down and gave you several kisses before the two of you separated.

“You better win because of all these kisses I'm giving you.”

“Hmm, let's hope.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.” Joe replied as he winked at you.

“AND ME!”

“Yes, Ja’Marr, love you too.” You said as you laughed at him.

You playfully shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss on the cheek and making your way upstairs with security guiding you and the camera crew coming behind you. They had been with you for a good portion of the past two days and would be setting up everything to record in the suite as you all watched the game.

Once you were in the suite, you took your rightful place next to Robin as all of you anxiously waited for the game to start.

One thing you absolutely loved was watching games with your in-laws and the majority of the time it consisted of you and Robin screaming during all four quarters.

The game started off well and then it took a turn.

Looking at your husband, you could tell that he was frustrated and it seemed like it was the same scenario week after week. They would be leading or the score would be extremely close and majority of the time it would end up in a loss.

One thing you always did after games like these starting back from your days at LSU was make sure that he never doubted himself despite what the outcome may be. At the end of the day, he's still an amazing quarterback even if mistakes are made. It simply meant that it would give him more motivation in the weeks to come after.

Episode 4: Now or Never

Looking on from the ottoman that was in your walk-in closet, Joe was browsing through different looks that Kyle had picked out for him and brought earlier in the week trying to decide on which one he was going to wear for week ten's prime time game against the Baltimore Ravens.

You could tell that he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do and you immediately stepped in to help as you placed your phone down beside you in order to give him your full attention.

“Can I pick out your outfit this week?” You asked excitedly as Joe turned around and looked at you with a smirk.

It was funny because it seemed like the sports blogs could always tell when you specifically had a hand in deciding his outfit.

One of everyone's all time favorites was the 2021 AFC championship look that you put together. The special touch was the necklace that he wore that you had given him.

Nodding his head, he quickly agreed as he then held out his hand to help you up so you would be able to see all of the options.

You quietly browsed through all of the different colors when suddenly a striped sweater caught your eye.

“Hmm, what about this?” You asked him as you held it up to show him.

He had always been big on the material of what he was wearing and if he thought it would be comfortable enough.

As his hand ran over the material, he gave you a nod of approval.

“I like it. I can see myself wearing it. I like the colors.”

“Me too. Okay, we're halfway there. Now all we need are pants and shoes. I'm just trying to think because I don't want you to get cold and we all know how bipolar Maryland's weather is.” You replied thinking back to the times where you literally had to pack all four seasons worth of clothes in your suitcase.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Joe was admiring you from behind. He started to play with the ends of your hair as you were still trying to decide what the rest of his outfit would be.

“Mm these pants and these shoes. How do we feel?” You asked as you looked at your husband for approval.

“Hmm, I like these shoes better.” He told you as he went and picked up another pair.

“Okay let's do that then. And what bag are you going to carry? Do you want your black backpack and the other black bag? I doubt that everything is going to fit in the backpack anyway.”

“Yeah, probably both.” Joe replied as he quickly agreed with you.

“Well since we have your outfit now, you might as well finish packing your suitcase to get it over with. One less thing that you'll have to do later.” You told him as you walked over to it in the corner and began to pick it up.

“Leave it there, babe. I'll get it.”

“It's not heavy because it's literally empty. I can carry it.” You said as you brought it over to him.

“And you can wear like a white shirt under the sweater to keep you warm. No way in the world you're coming back to Cincinnati sick. Did you take your vitamins today by the way? I had left them out on the table for you.”

Joe had begun packing his suitcase as it laid it down on the floor and unzipped it before he answered you.

“I got them and took them right after I woke up. And I'm hoping you took yours too.”

“I haven't felt the best all day and woke up sick again, but I'll take them before I go to sleep. But how are you feeling about this week?” You asked as you sat back down in your original spot. He quickly walked away from packing to sit next to you as you ran a hand through his hair.

“Feel pretty good. Playing in prime time, so I definitely have to play my best.”

“Think of it as redemption for what happened last time you played them. I mean you're doing everything that you can to the best of your ability. We all know that hard work pays off.”

“But is it going to be enough? That's the question every single week.”

“Well we can't think like that. You have to take it one step at a time. I know the season hasn't gone the way you wanted to, but still proud of you just the same. I'll be cheering you on from here and will be waiting for you to get back. If I didn't have anything to do, you know that I would be there.”

“I know you would.”

–

When the game ended and the Bengals ended up losing in overtime, you simply waited for your call from Joe. After every away game, win or lose, he would call you. This was something that the two of you started at LSU and it simply continued into his NFL career. Except when there was a period of time that the two of you were at odds during his rookie season.

Your morning sickness had turned into an all day event and the result was you barely eating anything which you knew he wouldn't be excited about. It was now almost one in the morning and you figured that eating some fruit would be a good option.

As you were cutting it up, your phone rang and you heard your husband's voice.

“Hi, babe.” You quietly said as you popped a strawberry in your mouth praying that you would be able to keep it down.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He greeted you with a sigh.

“I thought that you would have been asleep by now since the game went into overtime.”

“Couldn't go to sleep without calling you first. Just had to hear your voice.”

“Because it helps you sleep better?” You asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Been that way since 2018. I also had to check on you and the babies.”

“I couldn't eat today because my morning sickness turned into an all day sickness event. And remember she said if that keeps happening, I'm probably going to have to get an IV and get nutrients through that. I'm trying to eat fruit now and so far so good. It's just frustrating. I want a cheeseburger.”

“Babe, you have to try and eat. I mean you're eating not only for yourself but for two other people. Make sure you make the appointment on my off day so that I can go with you.”

“Already did through the app on my phone. And I know but I really don't have an appetite for anything.” You replied as you bit into a grape and immediately spit it back out.

“And it's now clear that they don't like grapes. I couldn't even swallow it.”

“We'll figure out a solution that works. It won't be like this forever.”

“It better not be. I need some cheese fries to go along with that burger.”

“I'll buy it for you as soon as we get this morning sickness under control. But for now, I'll let you sleep.”

“Can't wait to see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh, wait! Babe, on your way home can you get me some gummy bears?”

Episode 5: Stumbling Blocks

“I literally cannot believe that you bought a batmobile.” You told your husband as his head laid in your lap.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I had to take it.”

“And how much was it again?”

“2.9 million.”

All you did was look at the camera with a look of disbelief and shake your head.

“Can you customize it how you want or?”

“I think I can, but I'm not even going to get it for a year. I got it from Warner Brothers. So it's the one from The Dark Knight.”

“Then you better be able to fit two car seats in there.” You playfully scolded as he laughed at you.

“See, Joe loves DC while personally, I'm a Marvel girlie. Especially Chris Evans, oops, I mean Captain America.” Joe rolled his eyes before replying back to you.

“I thought Thor was your favorite?”

“Him too. But I know you're really excited to get it. So I guess that means we're going all in right?”

“All in how?” Joe asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Babe, you need the cape, you know the entire outfit. It's only right, we can't half-ass it.”

“Oh, and the mask. Could you imagine me rolling up to Paycor on game day like that?”

“The kids would definitely love it and want to take all the pictures with you. Like is that Joe Burrow or is that Batman? But wait, will you even be able to drive it on the street?” You curiously asked.

“I think they're making it so I can but as is, I definitely wouldn't be able to.” Joe answered as he grabbed the remote and turned to the Lions game.

Jared Goff popped up on the screen and you had to admit that they were doing really well this year and deep down you wouldn't be surprised if they actually did end up going to the Super Bowl.

Their hard work had definitely been paying off.

“Jared's doing really good this year.”

“He has. They've really turned things around from the previous years.”

“I mean obviously with the position that we're in is the last place we wanted to be. It seemed like it all came down to the last play of the game and we just never delivered how we were supposed to. It's not absolutely impossible to make the playoffs at this point, but it's like you're playing catch up.” Joe spoke and you nodded your head agreeing with him.

“You just never want to be grasping at straws when it comes down to the wire. I mean we've won seven games in a row before so it's not impossible. But if we actually make the playoffs, I'll be as happy as a clam.”

Looking at the scoreboard from your spot in the suite for week 13 against the Steelers had you absolutely baffled.

The bright white numbers staring back at you, 44-38.

Just like Joe had mentioned previously, it ultimately always came down to the last few plays of the game and they just couldn't do enough to get them to victory.

Looking at the fact that your husband had been putting up amazing numbers this year in regard to how he's playing, you just wish that the score would reflect it.

He had been worried that he wouldn't be able to play the same because of his wrist injury, but he exceeded even his own expectations since this season had honestly been the best that he had ever played.

The disappointment on his face was evident as he made the long walk back to the locker room. You always waited in the suite until more people cleared out before going downstairs to meet him so that way he could do his presser and then go home.

All you did was look over at Robin and sigh and she gave you the same look in return.

Close, but no cigar.

Now you were trying to think of anything else that you could do to support him through this since it was a known fact that he was beyond frustrated, but you were honestly coming up short.

But one thing you could get excited for was that his birthday was coming up.

Next week they would be playing the Cowboys and Joe's birthday was the day after. You knew that he was probably going to be tired so sometimes low key would be best to celebrate.

It also came to your attention that the players would all be animated and featured on a special episode of The Simpsons.

They desperately needed the win because the last thing you wanted for Joe to have a depressed plane ride home from the game.

–

“Babe! You look cute as a Simpsons character!” You told him as you pulled up the Bengals post on Instagram and was flipping through all of the players that they had posted.

“I don't have a chin, but they at least got the hair right.”

“You are so….” You trailed off before laughing as you looked at him.

You broke the news earlier to him in the day that you wouldn't be going to the game, but instead would be staying here.

Also, your pregnancy had been kicking your ass so that didn't help.

The reason being to get everything ready for his birthday which just consisted of you two spending the day together. You were also waiting on a few more of his presents to arrive.

“What? I literally don't have a chin in that picture they posted.”

“I'm going to be watching both. I'll pull up the Simpsons version on my iPad and then the TV will be playing the actual game. I remember watching the Toy Story one last season and it was really cute.”

“I just wish you were coming with me, but I know you haven't been feeling the best.” You heard him say as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“No, but at least I'm able to keep a little bit more food down than before. I don't think I can last on a plane right now. If it was closer then it would be different.”

“I know, you got precious cargo in there.”

“Exactly. But I have a good feeling about this week. Well I say that every week, but I know that you're going to put up amazing numbers. And someone has a birthday coming up!” You teased as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“All I want for my birthday is a win and maybe a few kisses from my wife.”

“That can be arranged.”

—

Your phone had gone to voicemail for the fifth time as Joe was trying to call you after the game and him being worried was an understatement.

Talking with you earlier, you never mentioned that you were doing anything out of the ordinary and would be at home watching the game since you had been mentioning it all week.

You never missed his calls.

And if his timing was right, it had to be close to one in the morning back home.

But if you were too tired to stay up, you would have at least sent him a text to let him know.

“Ja'Marr, you talk to your sister?” Joe asked as he was doing his best not to panic as the two of them were walking to the bus to head to the hotel.

“No, not since earlier. Why what's wrong?”

“She's not answering any of my calls or texts. She never does that.”

“Hmm, what did you do?” Ja’Marr asked as he raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing! I swear absolutely nothing! I talked to her before we got on the bus to head to the stadium.”

Ja’Marr pulled out his phone and dialed your number to get the same exact result.

“She's not answering me either. I can get our neighbor Ms. Bethany to check on her. I have her number, hold on. And for some reason it seems like that lady never sleeps.”

Ms. Bethany was your older neighbor who lived across the street from you and who would always be baking you, Joe, and Ja'Marr cookies, brownies, cakes, etc. She's gotten better with only doing it for you during the season, because Joe was convinced she was trying to make him gain thirty pounds.

A few minutes felt like hours as Ms. Bethany told Ja'Marr that she would walk over to the house and check on you.

What startled her was the lights still being on in the foyer.

Joe couldn't help but to have a pit in the bottom of his stomach which was currently rolling in knots.

Deep down he could tell that something was wrong.

The bus had pulled in front of the hotel and everyone was exiting as Ja'Marr's phone went off.

“Here she is now. She's probably fine. We're probably worried about nothing.”

Nodding his head, Joe agreed but the look on Ja'Marr's face would soon tell him otherwise.

“Wait, what? Just now? Where are they taking her?” He asked as he was firing off questions left and right.

“What's going on? Is she okay?” Joe asked as he frustratedly ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay, okay. Um, I'll tell him. Thanks, Ms. Bethany. We should be there soon.” Ja’Marr finally hung up the phone and sighed.

“Well? She's fine right?”

“Ms. Bethany saw her through the window. The light in the foyer was on and she was laying there not moving.”

“What, what do you mean?!”

“She called 911 and she's going to go with her to the hospital. She was breathing when they got inside. I'm guessing that she might have fainted.”

Episode 6: Headspace

Both Joe and Ja'Marr wasted no time hopping onto a plane and trying to get home to you as soon as possible.

They caught the first flight that they could back home, and Joe's mind was racing.

Did you hit your head when you fell?

Were the babies okay?

How long were you down there before Ms. Bethany found you?

It was around four in the morning when they finally touched down in Cincinnati and went straight to the hospital that Ms. Bethany had told Ja’Marr they took you to. She had sent a text while they were both on the plane telling him that she wasn't going to leave until they both got there.

Being thankful for the almost empty emergency room, because the last thing they needed was to be swarmed by fans, Joe went up to the security desk to ask for you.

“Here to see someone?”

“Yes. My wife, Y/N Burrow. My neighbor told us that they brought her here.”

“Okay, she's in room four. I'm going to open the door to my left, once you get through, go immediately to your right.”

Joe nodded as the directions were given to him and both him and Ja'Marr received visitors passes.

Each step he took, his heart rate increased not knowing what he was going to walk into.

He peeked inside of your room to see Ms. Bethany keeping a close eye on you as you slept with your hand resting comfortably over your stomach.

He immediately walked over to you and kissed the top of your head before turning to Ms. Bethany.

“Hey Ms. Bethany, thank you for going to check on her. Who knows what would have happened if you didn't.”

“You're welcome. Of course, I think I heard the nurse mention that they're going to admit her to the mother/baby unit. Just to watch her and the last I heard they were just waiting for a room to be cleaned. As soon as it is, they'll take her up.”

Nodding his head, Joe went to sit next to you as she went to greet Ja'Marr.

They spoke for a few minutes before she turned to the both of them.

“If you need me for anything, just call. Doesn't matter what time it is. You know I think of Y/N as my bonus daughter. Let me know later how she's doing when she wakes up.”

It was around seven in the morning when you peeked your eyes open to see both your husband as well as your twin knocked out on the couch underneath the window in your room.

Glancing around, you saw that you weren't in the emergency room anymore and that Ms. Bethany probably went home as soon as they had gotten there.

Adjusting a little bit to make yourself more comfortable, you placed a protective hand over your stomach and sighed.

Last night was an absolute blur. One minute you were finishing up making Joe's cake for his birthday and wrapping his gifts and heading upstairs to wait for his call before going to bed and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in the emergency room with nurses around you trying to get an IV, setting up the monitor to check on the babies, and doing your vitals.

One of them saw the panic in your eyes and immediately did her best to try and calm you down.

You thought you had been doing better with your food intake, but that proved to be false after the doctor had explained to you about you being severely dehydrated and in not such harsh terms but ultimately ‘starving yourself along with the babies.’

It was decided that you would get essential nutrients and vitamins through your IV line and they would watch you for twenty four to forty eight hours.

First thing out of your mouth was that ‘I need to call my husband’ as you were trying to do your best not to cry but a few tears slipped out anyway as Ms. Bethany quickly assured you that he already knew and was on his way.

You were obviously scared and wanted him with you at that very moment, which you knew wasn't going to happen for a few hours.

After spending a good portion of 2021 in this very same hospital as well as rehab, you quickly grew a distaste for them and wanted to stay far away.

And you would now be spending Joe's birthday in the hospital.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you saw your phone which you were guessing that Ms. Bethany had grabbed when she found you and sent a quick text to your parents as well as your in-laws telling them what happened, but to reassure them that you were fine. But knowing them, the in-laws would probably be to you by nine and your parents would more than likely get the first flight out of New Orleans that they could find.

Joe suddenly opened his eyes and looked over in your direction seeing that you were awake. Throwing the blanket that was covering him to the side, he got up and made his way towards you.

As soon as he was close enough, you dropped your phone in your lap before opening your arms in order to hug him.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes before Joe kissed the top of your head and wiped away the few tears that had slipped out.

“I'm here, don't cry. You're okay.”

You moved over in the bed to make room for him so that he could sit next to you and once he finally got comfortable, you immediately grabbed his hand and held it almost as if you were scared that he was going to disappear.

“How you feeling, baby?”

“I feel a lot better even though I don't even remember how I got here but Ms. Bethany told me once she finally got me to calm down.”

“I knew that something was wrong when you didn't answer my calls so Ja’Marr called her to go and check on you.”

“I was just trying to get everything ready for your birthday and… oh my gosh… baby, I ruined your birthday.” You trailed off as you started to get upset again.

“Stop because you didn't ruin anything. Only gift I want is knowing that my wife along with my twins are okay.”

“But…”

“No.”

“But I did ruin it and I know that I scared you. I'm sorry about that.”

“Babe, stop apologizing. I promise you that I'm not mad and you didn't ruin anything. Like I said, you being healthy is more important.”

“I'm going to make this up to you, I promise.”

“Only thing I want you to focus on right now is getting better.” Joe told you and all you did was sigh.

“Happy birthday by the way. I love you.” You told him as he wrapped an arm around you and you leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, and I love you more.”

Feeling your phone vibrate, you quickly grabbed it to see that it was no one other than Robin texting you back.

Second mom- Y/N! I'm on my way! Just talked to your mom and they're getting a flight as we speak. Me and Jimmy will be there soon!

“Your parents are coming to check on me so that means I'm going to need for you to actually go home and sleep in our bed to get proper rest.” You explained to him and he instantly made a face.

“Don't fight me on this. When they get here, you and my twin need to go and sleep. You can come back later and I promise that I'll still be here.”

When the cameras began rolling again, Joe refused to mention what had happened to you and what made you end up in the hospital, because he felt that he was showing them more than enough.

However, it didn't matter anyway simply because it eventually came out in the news later that week that you were seen for an undisclosed illness, much to his dislike but there was only so much that he could protect you from with being in the public eye.

The topic had soon moved to about being in a good headspace during the season and you reflected on when you brought up the idea for Joe to get a therapist during his rookie season.

“I really don't use social media a lot in general, but I basically avoid it during the season. I think that it's important to protect your mental health. One week they're saying great things about you and then the next week it could be the complete opposite and that can really mess with your head if you let it.” Joe said and you nodded your head as you agreed.

“I still remember during your rookie season with us being so far away from each other, I proposed the idea of him getting a therapist. Because ultimately I couldn't be there with him during that time and I needed for him to be able to vent to someone that wasn't necessarily me.”

“And I'm happy to say that I still have the same one four years in. I admit that I was a little hesitant at first because I was like I literally tell her everything so why do I need to talk to someone else? And she just said that it never hurt to get an outside perspective on things.”

“It is very tempting to go online and see what people were saying and a lot of times, I can look at it and it doesn't bother me, however, I do have to periodically give myself breaks and when we have our mental health days, no one is allowed to be on their phones. I think during the Olympics earlier this year when my medal ultimately got taken away, I did not go on social media for like a good three month stretch because my emotions were high and the last thing I wanted to do was say something and end up regretting it. But I told him that now the entire world is watching you and I don't want you to get caught up in it and ultimately feel like you're drowning.” You explained and tried not to dwell on your disappointment surrounding it.

“Definitely one of the best decisions that I ever made. My first is marrying you of course and that medal definitely should have been yours and I don't care if I sound biased or not. My wife is always right.” Joe turned to you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Always trying to get brownie points.” You replied while shaking your head.

“Is it working?”

“Maybe a little.” You replied while giving him a soft smile.

The season was winding down and the Bengals desperately needed a win. Luckily one came to them against the Titans but being the perfectionist that your husband was, he couldn't care less.

And it showed.

Watching from home with your mom that had been staying with you for about two weeks now to keep an eye on you when Joe wasn't here, you watched in real time the team kept getting false starts along with five yard penalties. But what really surprised you as the game ended and the camera was immediately on Joe on what was happening on the sideline.

On the bench.

Helmet thrown to the side.

And it looked like he was having some choice words with Zac.

“Oh, well that's not good.” Your mom said as she looked over at you.

“I'm actually a pretty good lip reader. I can't make out everything that he said, but there were definitely a couple of f bombs in there.” You quietly said as your eyes went wide.

“And that goes to show you how passionate he is about what he does. There is no secret how much of a perfectionist my husband is and he's been like that since we first met. He just loves football and obviously wants to perform well with the rest of the team. I could see them making silly mistakes all day, however, we got a win out of it. It's something, but knowing Joe, that plane ride home is about to be awkward as hell. But onto the next, just have to keep moving forward. Broncos up next.” You said while smiling at the camera.

Episode 7: Final Snap

Coming off a high of winning against the Broncos the previous week, Joe was anxious to get a win against the Pittsburgh Steelers so the Bengals could have a chance at a playoff spot. It required some math with certain teams having to win or lose games, however there was nothing in his power that Joe could do about that.

The only thing that he was focused on was the task at hand.

Seeing as Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania wasn’t very far from home and your morning sickness had slowly started to dwindle down, you and your two best friends, Erin and Alisha decided to make a road trip out of it. Erin had come to the Broncos game with you and Alisha promised to make the next one before the two of you had gotten off of a facetime call that same night.

You lost track of how many times Joe had reminded you to dress warm because of the temperatures as you were currently deciding what your outfit was going to be.

Just then, your phone went off telling you that there was a facetime call from none other than your husband.

“Yes, baby?” You greeted him as he smiled at you.

“What are you wearing? It's cold up here. Make sure you dress in a few layers.”

“I will, promise. But I haven't quite decided yet.”

“And make sure you wear one of my Bengals beanies. They're on my side of the closet on the far right. I just don't want you to be cold.” Joe told you out of concern.

Joe knew that he couldn't talk you out of coming to the game, so he had to take every precaution to make sure you were okay as well as the twins.

“Okay, I'll make sure that I grab it. Erin and Alisha should be here soon. You feel okay today?” You asked and he quickly nodded.

“So far, so good.”

“I can't wait to see you. You better kick ass today even though I already know that you're going to.”

“Right back at you and I'm feeling good about this one, so let's hope it goes that way.”

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatever happens, whether you guys end up in the playoffs or not, I am so proud of you and what you have done this season, especially coming back from your wrist injury. They might not have nominated you for MVP, but you will always be MVP in my eyes.”

“I love you and that means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“Right back at you. Now let me go get dressed. The quicker I do that, the faster I get to you.” You told him as you stood up from your bed.

“Remember layers!”

“I got it, Burrow! I know, I know! See you soon, babe.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you began sifting through your closet, since you were already wearing a cami, you grabbed one of your many Bengals jerseys with Joe’s number and layered a thick Bengals sweatshirt on top. Then moving over to Joe’s side of the closet, you found one of his beanies before taking off in the direction of the bathroom to do your hair.

Hearing your phone go off from the bedroom, you finished quickly brushing your hair before throwing the beanie on top and then going to answer it.

Erin and Alisha were downstairs waiting for you and then the three of you would begin to make the four hour trip there and back.

It was now around the third quarter and the Bengals had been playing well, when Joe suddenly got tackled by two different people at the same time making you gasp.

“Oh…. That did not look good.” Alisha quietly said before turning to look at you.

“Oh my gosh. Is he okay? He’s not moving.” You blurted out as you watched in anticipation as the medical team was now on the field tending to him.

“He kind of moved his legs. That’s a good sign.” Erin had said as she tried to reassure you and calm your nerves.

“That was a hard hit and it looks as if he fell on his neck.”

“This is the one thing that I hate. I mean people don’t really think about this, but football is a dangerous sport. If you get hit the wrong way, you can get injured and so many different things. I try not to have that at the forefront of my mind when he goes and plays, but once in a while it does creep back in. I just pray before every game that he doesn't get injured. But I know that the best possible people are down there making sure that he’s okay.”

A few minutes had passed before you finally saw your husband sit up and eventually stand up as he jogged to the sideline.

“Look! He's up! He's up!”

You could finally let out the breath that you had been holding and continue to watch the game, but deep down you were still worried and would be until he was directly in front of you and you inspected him yourself.

The same thing was true as it relates to every bump and bruise that he would get.

You knew that he got annoyed by you doing it, but deep down he was thankful for it.

When the game finally concluded with a win, you wasted no time in making your way downstairs in order to see if Joe was okay.

“Are you good? Because..?” You asked and of course started to inspect him after the half hug that you gave him, wasting no time.

“I'm good baby, I promise. My neck is definitely going to be sore tomorrow but some very large humans just fell on top of me.”

“The second that it doesn't feel right, you need to tell me. Understand?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Yes ma'am.”

“Don't scare me like that, Burrow. You know better.”

“I'll try not to.”

“Just wanted to check on you before I left. I love you and I'll see you when you get home. Take motrin because your neck is going to hurt like hell tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Burrow. See you at home.”

The Bengals playoff spot would not be officially secured unless the Chiefs won their next game which no one was happy about.

Your fate being in another team's hands.

You and Joe were at home sprawled across the couch as the game played on the TV in front of you. He was currently eating some type of sandwich that he made while you were deciding if you wanted chicken nuggets or a pop tart since your cravings had been all over the place.

“Babe, are you sure you don't want me to make you anything?” Joe asked you and you shook your head no.

“No, there's really nothing in the house that I want.”

“What do you have a taste for?”

“The babies want chicken nuggets and pop tarts.”

“I… that's gross.” Joe said as he turned up his nose.

“It's the babies, not me. Ja'Marr is going to bring it when the game is over.”

“Okay.”

“But can I have a bite? It looks really good.”

“I… you just said you didn't want anything in the house!”

“I don't, but I want your sandwich. Only because it's yours. Give it here so I can make sure it's not poison.” You said as you went and sat next to him and reached for it.

“Nope, put your hand down. I'm feeding it to you so that you don't end up snatching it and taking it for yourself. And after I already ate half of it? I'd be dead by now.”

“I… you don't trust me!?”

“When it comes to food? No.”

You were in heaven as you tasted his sandwich and quickly tried to take another bite.

“Okay, I had my fix. I think I'm okay now.”

“Are you sure? Going once, going twice.”

“I'm sure, but can I get some of your water?” You asked and Joe just shook his head as he laughed before handing it to you.

It was clear that the game was not going in the direction as you anticipated it would and it was clear that Joe was disappointed in the outcome.

They were playing as if they had never seen a football before.

“I mean, I guess it's the offseason now. I'm relieved but disappointed at the same time.” He said as he shrugged while the post game was starting.

“But, you made it through the season in one piece and that is something to be thankful for.”

“That’s true. Can't argue with that.”

“And you're done giving me mini panic attacks. I thought you were going to send me into early labor a few times.” You joked as Joe shook his head and laughed at you.

“Until next season of course where we'll get to do it all again.” He replied as he winked in your direction.

“Hmm, what's the first thing on your list to do?” You asked as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Take a nap.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joey burrow #nfl imagine #bengals

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elixirfromthestars · 3 days ago

Text

A lovesick Bucky with a big crush on the reader??? YES PLEASE!!! 🥹🩷🩷

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

“Hi, Bucky.” Instantly, he sputtered over his mouthful of cereal, eyes watering from his food going down the wrong way.

^ Such a good start already 😂🩷

Your eyes fell to Sam then, who stood in the corner, fresh from a workout with a shit eating on his face. “Good morning, Samuel.” “Mornin’, beautiful. How did you sleep?” Bucky fought the growl rising in his throat, the unprecedented possessiveness caving its way through its internal barriers in your presence.

^ Possessive Bucky always does it for me 🤭💕

Bucky zoned out while you continued to express your gratitude to Sam. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dilated as he rested his head in the palm of his vibranium hand, a lovesick sigh escaping his lips. You were just so gorgeous – a deity in human form right in front of his own very eyes. Bucky had never considered himself so lucky in all his time on earth to be within your vicinity.

^ Bucky right here is that one meme that’s like blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff” 😂🩷🩷

Gently tapping his nose three times, you managed to gain his full attention again. “You seem out of it, sweetie. Maybe you should go down to the medbay. See if you’re coming down with a fever or something.” Sam blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, because that’s what’s wrong with him.”

^ A swooning Bucky is so top tier 🤭, and Sam being a little cheeky shit about it is the cherry on top 😂🩷🩷

You threw a lighthearted glare his way before bringing your eyes back to Bucky. “Promise me you’ll get seen to?” How could he refuse when you asked so sweetly? “Anything you want.” He vowed sincerely.

^ Anything I want? 👀🤭💖

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You are down bad, man.” Bucky swiped a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.” “This is serious.” Sam sobered up, his lips softening into an honest smile. With an embarrassingly loud thud against the island countertop, Bucky let his head drop. “I have no idea what to do, Sam. I thought this crush would have passed by now but it’s been months.”

^ I’m absolutely living for the lighthearted rom-com vibes this fic has!! 🥰🥰 I keep giggling at all the silly little lovesick visuals you’re putting, like Bucky plopping his head down on the countertop like that 😂🩷

Bucky lifted his head up and huffed sarcastically. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she could turn me down and rip my heart out into little pieces, so much that I would hide out in my room for the rest of eternity never to be seen again?”

^ I COULD NEVER!! 🙂‍��️🙂‍↔️

“Why? So you can spend your days staring at her with your googly eyes and drooling over her.” “I have never drooled over her,” Bucky snarled. A twinkle shone in Sam’s eye, a mischievous grin donning his face. “Then what’s that on your chin?” Bucky’s eyes widened and he quickly brought his hand up to his face to check if he did in fact have any wetness coating his mouth. Finding none, he looked back to Sam with a scowl. “I hate you.”

^ And I love both of you 🤣🩷 I’m obsessed with their dynamic in this 😂🩷

Sam huffed out an annoyed breath. “Listen, man. It’s not as if you’ve got nothing going for you. As much as you’re a grumpy shit, you’ve got them blue eyes the chicks love. Gets them all gooey when you give them intense eye contact, y’know?” He reluctantly added, “And they dig the brooding, bad boy, leather jacket vibe.”

^ YES WE DO 🙂‍↕️💗💗 I’m always vibing with any kind of vibes Bucky gives 🙂‍↕️💕💕 You tell him, Sam!! 🗣️✨

Low and behold, plenty of other people wantonly stared at you while you completed your circuit, almost salivating over their barely concealed pining. As much as Bucky hated to admit it, the fucker was right. You were the pinnacle of everyone’s attention. With the way you were bending over, squatting and looking like an angel amidst the perspiration the sun brought on, Bucky wasn’t sure if he could actually blame anyone for it. That didn’t stop the ugly, green eyed beast within him that wanted to tear everyone’s eyes out for daring to glimpse at you. It was silly, he knew he had no right to feel any sort of possessive nature for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Still, he couldn’t control the deep rooted urges that whispered the kinds of fun he’d have gouging out eyeballs that looked where they weren't supposed to.

^ Not silly at all 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ Oh no, Bucky Barnes, I quite like this side of you 🤭💖💖

However to his utter bewilderment, you happened to be the most dangerous being he had ever come across, because in all of his years as a trained, professional assassin, Bucky had never, never, tripped over his own feet. And so, inevitably, Bucky’s face ungracefully met the asphalt of the outside track with an audible thunk.

^ He did not just fall omg 🫢 I have this huge irrational fear of falling in front of people, so I am mortified for him 😨😅

“Ah, it’s nothin’—don't worry about it. Nothing a few hours won’t fix.” You shook your head fondly. “Well, how about I walk you to the infirmary and we get some ointment on them? It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.” Bucky choked on his own spit and snapped his eyes to yours. “W-We?” Your smile was blinding — so beautiful with an ability to stop time. At least for him anyway. “Yeah, why not? It looks like you could use a hand—y’know, since you’re a little clumsy on your feet today.” The cheeky smirk that followed your words almost sent him to an early grave.

^ Have I mentioned yet that I love the dynamic between the reader and him? 🥰 Because I do!! 💘 I love that he’s such a lovesick puppy and she’s so cheeky and sweet to him at the same time 🫶🏼🫶🏼

“Just one question though, are we going to keep holding hands on the way?” Looking down to the space between you, Bucky felt his mouth dry when he saw that he hadn’t yet released his hand from yours. “I’m—oh fuck—I’m so sorry.” Still, he made no move to slacken his grip. You tightened your lips, and he knew you were willing yourself not to laugh for his sake. Sam would have a fucking field day with this. Though to his surprise, instead of pulling away like he expected you to, you began pulling him along, hands still interweaved. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Bucky.”

^ If that man held my hand in any capacity, there’s no way I’m letting go 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ I promise you 💖💖

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with bravado. Bucky wasn’t prepared for the twinkle in your eye as you mumbled under your breath, “I’m sure it isn’t, Sargeant.” The breath got knocked out of his lungs. Oh did that do things to him. Suddenly, vivid images of you spread out on his bed wearing nothing but his old army hat while you screamed out his rank ran wild in his mind. Luckily, you were too preoccupied with cleaning the dried blood of his wound to notice him discreetly palming the bulge in his athletic shorts, trying to hide the effect you had on him.

^ OKAY 🙈💖💖 I was not expecting things to get a little spicy, but I am not complaining 🤭💗💗

Time stopped and the two of you were caught in the other’s gaze. It was such a small gesture, one you probably didn’t even realise meant the world to him. But you asked him for permission on something that would affect his autonomy and if Bucky didn’t already have a hundred ways he was falling for you, that would have been the cherry on top.

^ Stooooop, this is so sweet 🥺🩷🩷🩷

He tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “You think I’m handsome?” You giggled. “I would be blind if I didn’t.”

^ I know that’s right 🤭💕💕

With the most confidence he had ever mustered up, he responded, “Truthfully, I’m too busy staring at someone else to notice, doll.”

^ You don’t say 🤭💘💘

“Oh,” you hummed. “So it’s not true then? You don’t have a crush on me?” Fuck.Panicking, Bucky scoffed, though it came off sounding too pathetic, too breezy. “Me? Have a crush on you? That’s—Ha! Nope. No way. Not at all.”

^ No, he did not just say that 😂

Within seconds, Bucky jumped off the bed and leapt towards you, not even noticing how he had grabbed your hands. “Doll, please. You can’t leave a guy hanging like that.” Playfully rolling your eyes, you dramatically exhaled and decided to put him out of his misery. “Leave you hanging? Damn, Buck. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting patiently for you to ask me out for months or anything like that.”

^ He is such a lovesick puppy it drives me crazy in the best way 🫠💕 I want to hold him and keep him forever 😂🩷

It took him a couple of seconds to let the new information sink in. Clearing his throat, Bucky untightened his fierce grip on your hands and hesitantly slid them down to latch onto your waist. “So,” he mumbled. “Say if I asked you out to dinner tonight… You wouldn’t tell me I’m a fool and break my heart into a million pieces?”

^ NOPE. 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ I’d be asking you what time to meet you because I’d be the fool to say no 🩷🩷 What I would do to go on a date with this man 😩💘💘

“Oh,” you stopped suddenly at the doorway and looked over your shoulder. “One more thing. Don’t go tripping over again, you hear me?” You raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Can’t have you falling for me.” Your damn smirk was intoxicating and Bucky thought himself the luckiest fella alive to be the one taking you out. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have a little trouble with that request, Ma’am.”

^ I’m swooning over this man he’s just too freaking cute 🥹🩷

The minute he couldn’t hear your footsteps any longer, Bucky pumped his fist up into the air and began dancing on the spot.

^ Omg this is so freaking adorable, I don’t know if it’s possible that I could love him more 😂🩷🩷

Sam stood there, all cocky and mirthful with a shit eating grin on his face. “About time you bagged the girl, man. Dont’cha think?” Instantly, Bucky growled and grabbed the closest apparatus. With a pair of medical scissors, he charged towards Sam, who was quick to wipe the smirk off his face and skid out of the room with a scream.

^ Perfect ending right there 🤣🩷🤣🩷🤣🩷

Mollie my beloved!! 🥹🩷🩷 This has to be one of my top favorite fics of Bucky, omg, this was soooooo good!! 🥰🥰 This portrayal of Bucky was so sweet and lovely to read!! 🥹💖💖 I love the reader’s confidence and how it complimented Bucky’s down bad nature 🫶🏼 And Bucky and Sam’s interactions were so fun too, anytime Sam was mentioned I was so ready to read what he’d say to Bucky to stir the pot 😂 Ahhh, I just loved this fic so much, my darling!! 🥰🥰 And also… 👀 I must know if you imagine this Bucky to still be a lovesick puppy once they get together or does he become a menace once his confidence grows? 🤭💕

Loverboy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you.

Warnings: Avengers AU, Bucky’s POV, fluff, crack (my lame attempt at comedy), suggestive thoughts (no smut), just our boy being a lovesick little bean with a big ol’ crush.

Author’s Note: Dividers by @saradika. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier, thank you so much sweetie, I love you!! This was inspired by a wonderful request from @prettyboy56, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy x

“Hi, Bucky.”

Instantly, he sputtered over his mouthful of cereal, eyes watering from his food going down the wrong way.

Bucky knew that melodic voice before his gaze even reached its owner. You entered the kitchen, wiggling your fingers at him in greeting.

Clearing his throat, he swiped his bowl to the side, his breakfast now forgotten about, and directed his attention solely onto you. “Hi—um h—hello, doll.”

The muscles of your cheeks lifted up to your eyes in a smile that made Bucky swoon. Hard.

Your eyes fell to Sam then, who stood in the corner, fresh from a workout with a shit eating on his face. “Good morning, Samuel.”

“Mornin’, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

Bucky fought the growl rising in his throat, the unprecedented possessiveness caving its way through its internal barriers in your presence.

You grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and closed the door, leaning your back against it to take a big gulp.

“Not bad at all.” You licked your lips, ridding the dryness that came from a long slumber before your eyes lit up. “Oh, by the way! I drank some of that tea you recommended. It’s helped a bunch—”

In his own world of oggling, Bucky didn’t notice how the conversation fell short between you and Sam. Neither did he realise how the two of you were staring at him; you with concern and Wilson smothering his laughter with his hand.

“Bucky? Sweetheart?” He finally registered that you were speaking to him and almost choked, again, on his own spit.

“Mhm?” Bucky murmured, drunk off your attention.

You smiled once again, so devastatingly beautiful that his left arm whirred in stupor. “Are you okay? You feeling alright?” Not waiting for a response, you walked over to him and Bucky almost let his eyes roll to the back of his head when you lifted your wrist to his forehead. “Jeez, you’re a little hot, Buck.”

Sam keeled over in hysterics, unable to keep his composure any longer. Meanwhile, a bright red blossom of colour rose up from the skin of Bucky’s neck all the way up to his cheeks.

Had Bucky not been embarrassingly infatuated by you, the throwaway comment wouldn’t have had any effect on him. But this was you. The woman who had the ability to make him melt on the spot.

While logic and a basic level of common sense screamed at him that you were talking about his temperature, his mind could only conjure up the fact you had called him hot.

Bucky saw your mouth moving, however he couldn’t concentrate on the sound of the words coming out of it. You were still touching him, patting his cheeks and sweeping the tendrils of hair that had fell out from behind his ears out of his face. The close proximity of your bodies threw him through a loop and without even realising, his thighs spread further, subconsciously begging you to forego all boundaries and smother yourself against him.

Sam blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, because that’s what’s wrong with him.”

You threw a lighthearted glare his way before bringing your eyes back to Bucky. “Promise me you’ll get seen to?”

How could he refuse when you asked so sweetly? “Anything you want.” He vowed sincerely.

Scrunching your nose, you chucked his chin and whispered under your breath, “Good boy.”

Bucky almost whimpered when you withdrew your hands and stepped back. He so desperately wanted to follow you and nudge your arm until you paid attention to him once more. Your touch was fire and a cool breeze all at once. Electricity that created static across his stubbled cheek, yet also stoked a warmth through his entire body.

Peace. He’d never felt anything like it. Never before felt drunk from just the delicate essence of a perfume or experienced the loosening of his limbs, relaxing until his legs felt like jelly whenever you so much as cast him a glance.

You grabbed a piece of fruit from the table, ready to go down to the gym and train. “Catch you later, Sam,” you called over your shoulder. Meeting Bucky’s eyes a final time, you winked while you headed for the elevator. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s gaze was glued to you, following you out hopelessly until you were completely out of sight.

He was fucked — well and truly out of his depth.

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You are down bad, man.”

Bucky swiped a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.”

“This is serious.” Sam sobered up, his lips softening into an honest smile.

With an embarrassingly loud thud against the island countertop, Bucky let his head drop. “I have no idea what to do, Sam. I thought this crush would have passed by now but it’s been months.”

“Well,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Have you even tried asking her out?”

“And why would I do that?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused.

Sam sputtered over his words. “What do you mean—Because that’s what people do when they like someone, you dumbass!”

Bucky had lost enough braincells daydreaming about you constantly. He didn’t need to be told what he already knew. But the pressure of asking you out to then have a chance of being rejected? He would never come back from that. “Yeah, no thanks,” he mumbled.

“Come on, man. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Bucky sighed longingly. “Let me wallow in my misery alone, Sam.”

“Why? So you can spend your days staring at her with your googly eyes and drooling over her.”

“I have never drooled over her,” Bucky snarled.

A twinkle shone in Sam’s eye, a mischievous grin donning his face. “Then what’s that on your chin?”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he quickly brought his hand up to his face to check if he did in fact have any wetness coating his mouth. Finding none, he looked back to Sam with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam shook his head with laughter. “You shouldn’t make it so easy to tease you, loverboy.”

With a growl, Bucky lifted from his seat and stormed out of the kitchen.

The irritating voice followed him. “Don’t forget training tomorrow morning, loverboy!”

The sun was shining over the compound the next morning and so came the bright idea from Steve that all exercise activities should be held outside. While the recruits in training buffed up on their sparring with the Captain, the rest of the avengers worked out as they saw fit.

As usual, Sam took any opportunity possible to annoy Bucky, which brought them together, running laps around the outdoor track.

“When are you gonna man up and ask her out then, Cyborg? Pretty girl ain’t gonna be available forever.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t run ahead of Sam. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t. Maybe the pace he kept alongside Wilson allowed him to stare at you so clearly in your tight workout leggings and sports bra as sweat sensually rolled over your skin. Maybe.

“I’m not asking her out, Sam. Drop it.”

Bucky let out a rare smile within the presence of Sam. “You tryna hit on me, Wilson?”

“Look, all I’m saying is you have a chance.” Sam slyly glanced over the field. “And if you don’t quit fuckin’ around, that chance is gonna disappear.”

The smile instantly dropped from Bucky’s face. “What do you mean by that?”

Sam’s signature smirk came back with vengeance. “Your girls lookin’ kinda cute today. So I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you ain’t the only one who’s got their eye on her.”

Naturally, Bucky followed his instinct and let his eyes look over at you. You were a fucking wonder, of course he knew that. But heeding Sam’s ominous warning, Bucky allowed his gaze to venture out, only allowing you to blur into the background for a couple of seconds while he took stock of the other male, and female, recruits.

With the way you were bending over, squatting and looking like an angel amidst the perspiration the sun brought on, Bucky wasn’t sure if he could actually blame anyone for it.

That didn’t stop the ugly, green eyed beast within him that wanted to tear everyone’s eyes out for daring to glimpse at you.

It was silly, he knew he had no right to feel any sort of possessive nature for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Still, he couldn’t control the deep rooted urges that whispered the kinds of fun he’d have gouging out eyeballs that looked where they weren't supposed to.

Knowing he had stirred the pot enough, Sam figured it was time to try and hit the final nail in the coffin in order to make his friend move his ass. “Y’know what gives you an advantage though, man?”

Bucky continued to death stare the surrounding agents, while keeping up with his steady jog. “What’s that?”

“Guess who’s making eyes at you right now.”

At breakneck speed, Bucky snapped his head back around to you, only to indeed find you staring at him with a fire in your eyes and your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

A violent shudder ran down his spine and for a moment, the whole world stopped on its axis, allowing Bucky to revel in a daydream brought to life.

That was until his mind snapped him back into the present. The super soldier was majestic on his feet in a fight, graceful yet utterly dangerous out on the field even with the pressure a mission came with.

And so, inevitably, Bucky’s face ungracefully met the asphalt of the outside track with an audible thunk.

A collective of gasps, oo’s, and ah’s, rang around the large group. Bucky could physically feel the coating of red, hot embarrassment climbing up to his now scratched cheeks.

Bucky couldn’t see the look of shame and pity on Sam’s face as he dropped his head into his hands. All he was capable of was fantasizing faking his own death and moving far, far away where no one who witnessed his fall could ever find him.

With a painful, deep groan, Bucky managed to roll himself over. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and allow himself to accept reality yet and so he kept them closed, waiting for the ground to swallow him up or for the beaming sun to slowly incinerate him, melt him into the ground with his shame and dignity.

But instead of either of those, a shadow casted over him, the harsh brightness behind his eyelids dulling down. Slowly, he peeked an eye open, only for mortification to kick him in the gut when he found you standing over him.

“You alright there, Soldier?” Your hands were set on your hips, those deliciously curved grooves of your body that he had shamelessly stared at one too many times during gym sessions.

“Mhm,” he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly. “Just peachy.”

Even though you’d just seen him eat dirt, in front of hundreds of learning recruits and the rest of the avengers, your smile was kind as you held out your hand. “Need some help?”

Bucky took your offering, sliding his clammy palm into your dry one and hoisted himself up with your grip. He hadn’t needed your help, he was a super soldier with a metal arm; an agility and strength beyond normal human ability. But he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to feel your soft skin against his.

He couldn’t look you in the eye as he stood up, aware of your gaze glued to him. “Th-Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem,” you said. “Although, you’ve got a few nasty looking cuts on your cheeks.”

Bucky brought his left hand up to his face, hissing when the cool vibranium stung the open wounds. “Ah, it’s nothin’—don't worry about it. Nothing a few hours won’t fix.”

You shook your head fondly. “Well, how about I walk you to the infirmary and we get some ointment on them? It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Bucky choked on his own spit and snapped his eyes to yours. “W-We?”

Your smile was blinding — so beautiful with an ability to stop time. At least for him anyway. “Yeah, why not? It looks like you could use a hand—y’know, since you’re a little clumsy on your feet today.” The cheeky smirk that followed your words almost sent him to an early grave.

His cheeks blazed. Bucky was sure he looked utterly stupid, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But he couldn’t help the effect you had on him. “I um—I— ha, I guess.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Not trusting his voice to hold steady, Bucky simply nodded.

“Great,” you approved. “Just one question though, are we going to keep holding hands on the way?”

Looking down to the space between you, Bucky felt his mouth dry when he saw that he hadn’t yet released his hand from yours. “I’m—oh fuck—I’m so sorry.”

Still, he made no move to slacken his grip.

You tightened your lips, and he knew you were willing yourself not to laugh for his sake. Sam would have a fucking field day with this.

Though to his surprise, instead of pulling away like he expected you to, you began pulling him along, hands still interweaved. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Bucky.”

His name on your lips was akin to a siren singing her song; dragging helpless seamen to their deaths. A thought crossed his mind then, that he didn’t think he would mind so much if he sank to his reckoning, not if your voice was the last thing he ever heard.

“Okay.” Bucky followed you blindly, eyes glued to your conjoined hands and disbelieving of his luck.

You had led the way towards the medbay and found a cozy, private room that the doctors used for small injuries. Bucky sat impatiently on the side of the medical bed, twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting restlessly. Never had he been so close to you, alone.

Bucky internally prayed with all his faith that you couldn’t hear the rapid staccato of his heartbeat. He was sure if he was hooked up to a monitor, the doctors would be thoroughly concerned about his health.

Finally having gathered all the supplies you deemed necessary along with a first aid box, you walked back over to the bed and dumped everything next to him.

“So,” you began, an uneasy conspiratorial tone to your voice that weirdly reminded him of Sam. “Wanna tell me what happened out there?”

“I—,” Bucky sheepishly scratched the back of his neck while his cheeks bloomed crimson red. “I must’ve just tripped over my own feet.”

He tried to shrug off his nonchalance, but he knew by your raised eyebrow you didn’t believe him. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing a big, strong super soldier such as yourself has any trouble finding his footing.”

Before Bucky could muster up any other excuse but the truth, you ripped open the packet of a medical wipe and warned him, “I’m sorry. This is gonna sting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with bravado.

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the twinkle in your eye as you mumbled under your breath, “I’m sure it isn’t, Sargeant.”

The breath got knocked out of his lungs. Oh did that do things to him.

Suddenly, vivid images of you spread out on his bed wearing nothing but his old army hat while you screamed out his rank ran wild in his mind.

Luckily, you were too preoccupied with cleaning the dried blood of his wound to notice him discreetly palming the bulge in his athletic shorts, trying to hide the effect you had on him.

“Are you certain there is absolutely no other reason as to why I’m playing nurse right now, then?” Your feline grin was sexy and scary. “No possible distractions that led you off path?”

There was no way you could read minds, right? Bucky doubled down on his denial, shaking his head from side to side and letting the length of his hair hide the truth in his eyes.

“I’ll take your word for it then.” You finished up and reached for the healing gel. “I know the serum enhances your ability to repair the cuts, but I’d still like to use this.” Looking into his eyes, you asked, “Only as long as you’re okay with that, of course.”

“Yeah,” he breathed airily. “Yeah, I’m good with it, doll.”

Unseen to him before, you ducked your head and sweeped your hair behind your ear and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he was sure you were shy.

He couldn’t help the large grin he sported. He was always so enamored with you, quick to falter in your presence and become unsure of himself. Right now though, a small bout of bravery returned. “Ready when you are,” he cheekily murmured.

You hastily rushed to compose yourself. Clearing your throat, you squeezed the tube of gel, allowing a small drop of the cool liquid on the tip of your finger and stepped between his legs to gently dab it onto his cuts.

“Okay, you’re all fixed up now.” With a last swipe of his forehead, you smiled. “Don’t worry, Buck. You still look handsome.”

He tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “You think I’m handsome?”

You giggled. “I would be blind if I didn’t.”

Bucky blinked at you slowly, still processing your words and trying to calm the excited bubble rising in his throat.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t act all coy, Bucky. You must have heard the whispers of the recruits. They stare at you all the time, whispering and giggling to each other.”

With the most confidence he had ever mustered up, he responded, “Truthfully, I’m too busy staring at someone else to notice, doll.”

The shock of his sudden boldness was glaringly obvious on your face — it was you this time who held your mouth open, lost for words.

Bucky’s body screamed at him to tell you that he was in fact head over heels for you. That had he known falling over in front of the full compound would lead him within a hair’s breadth away from you, he’d do it all over again.

But you seemed to recover after a couple of seconds, clearing your throat and making yourself busy to avoid his eyes. “So, I’ve got another question.”

“Oh?” Bucky cocked his head.

“Yeah.” You smiled while placing everything back into the first aid box as you found it. “I’ve been hearing a few rumours around the compound recently.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped with dread.

“You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?”

“I—” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh,” you hummed. “So it’s not true then? You don’t have a crush on me?”

Fuck.

Panicking, Bucky scoffed, though it came off sounding too pathetic, too breezy. “Me? Have a crush on you? That’s—Ha! Nope. No way. Not at all.”

He watched as you nodded to yourself. Internally, he was begging for the floor to swallow him while he cringed at his own stupidity.

“Well,” you shrugged. “That’s a shame, I guess.”

Bucky’s head shot up, eyes wide and shock written over his features. “E-Excuse me?”

“Oh, it's nothing really.” There was a sparkle in your eye that screamed trouble. “You said you didn’t have a crush on me, so it doesn’t matter.”

Within seconds, Bucky jumped off the bed and leapt towards you, not even noticing how he had grabbed your hands. “Doll, please. You can’t leave a guy hanging like that.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dramatically exhaled and decided to put him out of his misery. “Leave you hanging? Damn, Buck. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting patiently for you to ask me out for months or anything like that.”

The air became humid and stuffy and suddenly the clothes attached to Bucky’s body felt too tight and restricting. “You—What now?”

You rolled your lips inwards, trying to smother your laughter. “Bucky, honey,” you gently murmured. “I’ve heard what the others have been gossiping about. I’ve definitely heard Sam telling the team about your crush on me.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That fuckin’ punk.”

You squeezed his hands reassuringly and offered him a warm smile when he looked at you. “I’ve just been waiting to hear it from the horse's mouth himself.”

Bucky’s eyes darted between yours, trying to find any hint of decievement. “You’re serious.”

“Mhm,” you whispered. “Deadly.”

Butterflies erupted in Bucky’s stomach at the sensation of your hands sliding over his chest to rest against his neck. “No, Bucky,” you chuckled. “I would tell you that I’m looking forward to our first date, tonight. Nowhere fancy, just casual. Six o’clock sharp.”

Bucky smiled, all beaming and ecstatic. “I wouldn’t dream of being late.”

“Good.” You leaned up onto your tip toes and ghosted your lips over his ear. “See you very soon then, Sargeant.”

Tingles shot down Bucky’s spine and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fought tooth and nail to crush the moan that rose up his throat and in his internal struggle, he missed how you’d sneakily slipped out of his hold and started to saunter towards the door.

He almost begged you to come back; the thought of having to wait for you until the evening was unbearable. But those pesky butterflies that invaded his stomach came back strong and fierce as his gaze became glued to the sway of your hips and the sweet perfume that lingered in your exit.

Your damn smirk was intoxicating and Bucky thought himself the luckiest fella alive to be the one taking you out. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have a little trouble with that request, Ma’am.”

The clench of your thighs was unmissable. The way your eyes dilated called to him. Bucky had more game than he realised and he kept that new information tucked safely into the corner of his mind for a later date.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Your actions told Bucky everything he needed to know and so he wiggled his fingers with a huge grin locked onto his face and watched you longingly as you left his sight.

The minute he couldn’t hear your footsteps any longer, Bucky pumped his fist up into the air and began dancing on the spot.

In his own bubble of happiness, he didn’t hear the footsteps of a new person entering the hallway. Only when an amused clearing of the throat echoed from the doorway did Bucky abruptly stop his dancing and slowly swivel to the intruder.

Sam stood there, all cocky and mirthful with a shit eating grin on his face. “About time you bagged the girl, man. Dont’cha think?”

Instantly, Bucky growled and grabbed the closest apparatus. With a pair of medical scissors, he charged towards Sam, who was quick to wipe the smirk off his face and skid out of the room with a scream.

#mel recommends 📖#lantern reblog challenge #mollie ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#lovely mutuals ♡🎀♡#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine

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impactrueno · 2 days ago

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#i'll delete this when i wake up #i dont know what the hell is wrong with me but i'm on the verge of breaking down rn bc it's 6am and i couldn't do shit today #except struggle drawing because for some reason my hand just wont respond lol it's like i completely forgot how to draw #and it's been like this for a few days now and idk what to do #i cant afford to “take a break” please stop telling me i need to take a break #i know you guys mean well but i know taking a break would just make me feel worse because i'm taking even longer to finish what i need to d #i cant afford being useless right now #the reason i started my patreon back up is because my mom had to quit her job so right now the bills are on me #and my mom decided to take over taking care of my grandma so i can focus on *my* work for once #and it's truly a blessed opportunity but at the same time i feel enormously pressured to excel at this because if i don't then idk what i'l #what i'll even do #i have so many pending commissions to finish and patreon content to prepare #my brain gets stuck doing the simplest things #everything takes me ages to get started and once i do i cant stop because then itll be so hard to pick up again #love dealing with executive dysfunction at a time where i'm pressured to somehow pull money out of my ass to provide for the three of us #i'm so terrified of failing that i freeze before i even do anything #anyway im gonna go take my meds and try to calm the fuck down and cry myself to sleep or something #im sorry to all the people who had to read this i promise ill be fine when i wake up #i just needed to vent at no one in particular because talking to people is overwhelming the fuck out of me right now #and i don't want to offend anyone with my unresponsiveness #thnak you guys for being patient with me

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lvrspiastri · 2 days ago

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Can i request an isack hadjar fic where reader is isacks best friend. She’s quite inexperienced and is interested in this other guy so she asks isack to teach her how to kiss and other spicy stuff.

She’s secretly harboured a crush for isack since before they were friends but she didn’t think he liked her back so doing this teaching thing is blurring the lines between how she feels for him and she starts to realise maybe she’s not that interested in the guy she liked. At a party one in one of the drivers hotel rooms she sees another girl flirting with isack and it makes her jealous and she realises she does in fact like him. She excuses herself from the party and he notices and follows her to her hotel room and he asks her what’s wrong. And she confesses she was jealous and he laughs saying you don’t think i was jealous when you were talking to the guy he though she has a crush on and they have sex and he’s being super possessive.

i cant even justify my disappearance. i should be back. (hopefully) i had a birthday yaay!

reminder that requests are open just check out the guidelines :)

masterlist

jealousy, jealousy ᶦʰ⁶

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭PAIRING: isack hadjar x fem!reader

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭WORDS: 2.7k words

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+, smut, friends to lovers, jealousy, oral sex, coarse language, virgin

Isack had a horrible habit of leaving his room messy. The impressive thing was that it didn’t even take him time to make a perfect hotel room look like it’d been burned to the ground. And for me, who was a bit more of a perfectionist, this was utter hell. Utter hell when I have to share a hotel room with my best friend purely for his races. You’d think one would get used to it after 17 years.

Time doesn’t make the sight any less painful.

So I fold the lazy ass’s laundry while he sits on the bed with his shoes on (filthy), scrolling on his phone and occasionally giggling at the mind-numbing Italian brain rot his fellow rookies had sent him. I get down to the last shirt when i hear the familiar lock sound of his phone. There’s silence for a beat. Two. A soft chuckle from him.

“You do not have to treat me like a kid, you know,” he takes the shirt from my hands and begins folding it himself.

“Oh please. If i stop all this, you’d be living in a pigsty.”

“What is ‘pigsty?’”

“Like…a dirty room. Ones pigs may live in.”

“Ah.”

A few moments of comfortable, familiar silence.

Until my phone dings.

And he can tell by the smile gracing my face that it's him. Ollie.

Ollie had been a natural part of our lives. Growing up in the same junior racing environment, he and I had become good friends. When Isack had been occupied with hours in the sim, or cautious night outs with girls who he was "just friends" with, it was Ollie who kept me company. And it would be foolish to claim that I don't feel anything for him.

Isack doesn’t say anything at first, but I catch the way his hands falter slightly on the fold. He smooths the shirt out twice, unnecessarily, then sets it down with a little more force than needed.

I glance up, still smiling, still caught in that light, floaty feeling that always follows a text from Ollie.

"So I'll see you tonight then?"

Yes. Of course he would. I'd been aching to hear that sweet Brit accent of his.

“You’re texting him again?” Isack says. Light. Airy. The kind of tone that tries a little too hard not to sound like it means something.

“Yeah.” I don’t elaborate.

He nods. Stands up and walks to his suitcase, fiddling with the zipper like he’s looking for something. Probably nothing. “You’ve been talking to him a lot lately.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…didn’t know you guys were that close.”

“We weren’t.” I pause. “We are now.”

Isack hums. That kind of passive sound that people make when they’re trying to hold back an opinion. He doesn’t look at me, and it’s weird. He always looks at me. Especially when he’s trying to prove a point.

I stare at the heart that pops up when Ollie likes my text.

So it's settled. I'm seeing him tonight.

In his room.

Which would mean....

Fuck.

Supporting Isack's career meant a lot of travel.

And a lack of travel meant the lack of stable relationships.

And lack of stable relationships meant lack of...experience.

I'd kissed a boy, of course.

But only once.

And it was at a party, the kind where everyone’s too drunk to remember who they kissed and too proud to admit they cared. His name was Luca or Logan or something with an L, and it had tasted like vodka and sour lollies. It didn’t count. Not really.

I swallow hard. The little heart on my phone screen pulses, pink and harmless, but it might as well be a siren.

Isack shifts beside me, still not looking. He’s scrolling through something on his phone with his thumb moving slower than usual—deliberate. Controlled.

“You okay?” I ask. Stupid question. Automatic.

“Yeah.” His voice is clipped. That kind of "yeah" that means no. That means you know I’m not, so why’d you ask?

I look away from him. Back to my phone. Back to that text:

"You sure you're okay with this?"

Ollie had sent it just after I told him I’d come over.

I'd replied too quickly.

"Of course. Can’t wait."

Isack finally puts his phone down, and I feel him watching me now. It burns at the edge of my vision.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” His voice is lower now. Quiet, like he’s afraid of breaking something between us.

“I know.” I tap the side of my phone with my thumbnail. “I want to.”

It’s not a lie. Not really.

But it’s not the truth, either.

He nods, slow and unreadable. Then, softer, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

I blink. “What, go to a guy’s room?”

He doesn’t smile. Just shakes his head once. “You know what I mean.”

Silence stretches. Not awkward—just tense. Like the pause before a question you’re scared to ask.

“No,” I say finally. “I haven’t.”

He nods again, and something in his face softens. He turns his eyes away like that makes it easier to say, “Then don’t let it be with someone who makes you feel like you have to prove anything.”

My chest tightens.

The room feels too full of things unsaid.

It's stupid and a lost cause, what I'm about to say.

"You have experience."

His body stills, irises darting across my face. But he does not breathe too loud, like he's afraid he'll say what he wants to. Like he'll let his inner thoughts slip.

"I do."

Short. Sweet. Simple. Not letting on too much.

I shift closer, voice dropping in volume, tone becoming velvety. "Will you teach me?"

His lips part. Just slightly. Barely. But enough.

Enough for me to see the exact moment his composure falters.

He blinks once, slow and heavy, like he’s rebooting. Like the question short-circuited something in him.

"Don’t say things like that," he says. His voice isn’t harsh, but there’s a rawness to it, something frayed at the edges. “Not if you don’t mean them.”

I tilt my head. “Who said I didn’t?”

A breath hitches in his throat. That’s all the answer I need.

The silence between us tightens—elastic and dangerous. He looks at me then, really looks, the kind of look that leaves nowhere to hide.

"I’m not a game," he murmurs. “Not some trial run before you go to him.”

I don’t flinch. But my heart does. Loud and fast, betraying every illusion of calm.

"Neither am I," I whisper. "But you’re the only person I’d trust with this."

His jaw tenses. He swallows, eyes falling to my lips and then flicking back up like it burned him to look too long.

"This is a bad idea," he says, more to himself than to me.

“Maybe,” I say, inching closer, “but it’s still an idea.”

A beat. Another.

Then, quietly, he says: “Say it again.”

I blink. “What?”

His voice is almost a breath, but there’s heat coiled underneath.

“Ask me again.”

So I do.

“Will you teach me?”

This time, he doesn’t look away.

A nod. A hitch in his breath.

And then he moves.

Not with urgency, but with intention. His hand hovers just above my knee, fingers curled slightly, hesitating like he’s not sure he’s allowed.

"You don’t get to take this back," he says. His voice is quiet, steadier than I expected. Not a warning to scare me off, more like a reminder that this means something. To him. Maybe more than I realised.

"I know," I say. My voice is softer than his. But certain. "I won’t."

His hand settles on me then, warm and grounding. Not possessive. Just real.

There’s a moment where he just looks at me, like he’s memorising something he doesn’t want to forget. And then...

"Come here."

It’s barely more than a breath. But I go.

And when he touches my face, it’s with a kind of gentleness I didn’t know I needed. His thumb grazes the skin under my eye, featherlight, like he’s checking if I’ll vanish.

My chest tightens. But not with fear. Not with nerves.

With something else.

He leans in slowly, giving me time, giving me space. I don’t pull back. I don’t blink. I just close the distance.

And when his lips touch mine, it’s nothing like that party kiss I’d tried so hard to convince myself was enough.

This isn’t messy or thoughtless or something we’ll pretend didn’t happen.

This is patient. Intentional. Earned.

It’s a lesson, yes, but not the kind I expected.

He isn’t just teaching me how to be kissed.

He’s teaching me what it feels like to be chosen.

His palm cups my cheek, and the kiss deepens. Slowly, carefully, like he’s still asking, still listening to every breath I take, every shift of my body against his.

His thumb brushes along my skin, anchoring me, grounding me, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. The pressure of his mouth grows more certain, not rushed but purposeful, like he’s giving me space to lean in or pull away. Like every part of him is waiting on me.

And I do lean in.

Because I want more. Not just of the kiss, but of him, this version of him I don’t get when he’s driving, or teasing, or pretending he doesn’t feel things as deeply as he does. This version, the quiet one, the one who touches like a promise and kisses like he means it.

His fingers slip into my hair, the kiss deepening again, warmer now, more open. He still doesn’t push. He still doesn’t rush. But there’s heat beneath the patience, like he’s been holding back longer than he’ll ever admit.

And for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m behind. Like I’m lacking or learning too late.

I just feel wanted. Completely. As I am.

I don't feel that way with Ollie. Not when I kiss him.

Maybe I did it wrong?

I go back to Isack's room after the night. I intended to stay over, yes. But my disappointment with how the night turned out just pushed me towards something more comforting. Familiar. Isack.

It's the last race of the year. Abu Dhabi. Glitz and glamour. Bittersweet endings. Fireworks for the championship winner. Champagne for the ones with trophies. A driver's party for Isack and I. I haven't spoken to Ollie since. I don't think I have the privilege to, anyway.

It starts off as any regular party. No one on the dance floor, everyone causing a stampede near the bar. Men and women flirting with each other, eyeing each other, hoping that the alcohol entering their system will grant them the courage. Usual shitty party routine. I don't expect seeing Isack partake in it.

She's a pretty blonde across the club. The one who you'd typically see swinging off of Leclerc's and every other lower Formula driver. I didn't, however, expect my best friend to be into them.

He doesn't look at me when he dances with me. His head is always turned away, eyes roaming her long legs and bare waist.

It fucking hurts.

After a drink or two, I've lost all sight of him. I meet Ollie's eyes a few times in the club but all I can fucking think about is where he is. And then I catch sight of him

Her hand on his shoulder, her lips in an overly sweet smile. That annoying giggle ringing through the air that's bound to make a guy's pants tight. A lean in and peck on the cheek.

And my body burns. Not from the alcohol. From the jealousy that engulfs me like a wildfire. From the tears in my eyes that threaten to fall. From the ache of my heart that beats for him.

I can't stop the tear from falling. And it's suffocating.

Out. Now. I grab my bag and head straight for the door. Liam must've noticed me, for he heads over to Isack and nudges him to me. I don't see what happens after. My vision is too blurry and my head too foggy to care.

I go where my feet carry me. They know the way. My hands autonomously swiping the room key and heading inside the room. The door doesn't even get a chance to shut before he bolts in, holding me as I fall to the floor.

Still struggling to figure out whether it's alcohol or feelings.

"What's wrong?" His voice is a soothing whisper, cutting through the turmoil in me. "Talk to me, my love, what is wrong?"

"That girl...she..." I manage to croak. It's silent and it's broken and it's incoherent but he knows.

"She's no one, nobody, I do not even know her name..."

"How could you? In front of me, too." God, it sounds so pathetic, so selfish. I couldn't care less.

"Oh, mon coeur," he lets out a soft chuckle. Not mocking, not ill-intended. Disbelieving. "How do you think I have felt all this time you've wanted Ollie?"

"That's the think, Isack, I don't." My voice shudders. "He doesn't make me feel like you do."

"Yeah?" he leans in, voice raspy. "And what do I make you feel?"

I can't say it, the word, the feeling too forbidden.

He unbuttons his shirt slightly, whispering. "Give me your consent. And I'll teach you what it's like to love."

One gaze into his caramel eyes and I nod. He hooks his arms around my thighs and practically throws me on the bed.

"Fuck, don't have protection." He curses, taking off the belt holding his pants up.

"Well, pull out in time, then." He smirks, amused by my insistence. I won't pretend this hasn't been on my mind for a while. Going all my life without sex drove me insane.

He takes his time with me, teasingly stripping me, his thumbs brushing against my bare skin like I'm something to be treasured. An experience to last. He's seen me naked before but not in this light. Not when I'm all his. Not when we both know what's yet to come.

He lays on his stomach, putting my legs on his shoulders, his hands shimmying the fabric of my panties off my legs. He kisses every new bit of skin revealed, tongue flicking at anything but the clit. I get desperate enough to let out a pathetic whine. A chuckle, a murmur in French and then a tender kiss to my core. It's better than I'd envisioned. Better than my own fingers could ever do. Better than wet dreams. Better than makeshift sex toys. He eats me like I'm a fine dish. Something served at a high-end restaurant, something to take your time with. His tongue swirls, his lips nibble, his hands squeeze the flesh of my thighs. It's no secret he's skilled. I don't want to know where he got the practice from.

"You're so beautiful. My little girl." Smacks of lips against wet flesh, fingers teasingly brushing my pulsating core. I immediately grab a hold of his hair, fighting the need to scream. His mouth keeps working, a diversion from the fingertips that dive in to me. And it is too much to contain. "Shh, shh. Don't want your dearest Bearman finding out."

"Oh, I have a feeling he knows- FUCK!" He curls his fingers, hitting a spot inside me that makes my lungs tighten and eyes wet.

"Your legs are shaking. Wow." He keeps up his newfound movement, curling and curling and hitting and hitting until I squirt, the golden liquid wetting his shirt, letting the fabric cling to his abs. I pant, the feeling similar to after an intense workout, which this was. I lie there, dazed, blissful, in love.

"Shh, you're okay." He makes a move to lie beside me, letting me into his arms. My first time, and the feeling was too intense for me to comprehend. "That's enough, yeah, you're good. We don't have to do anything else, just relax." A soft kiss to the top of my head. And the words I've waited to hear my whole life.

"I love you."

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #isack hadjar #isack hadjar x reader #isack hadjar smut #isack hadjar fic #f1 reader #f1 self insert #lvrspiastriwrites #lvrspiastriasks

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obsessivefangirl · 4 hours ago

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I do think children can't have full bodily autonomy for their own good + because they don't understand the full consequences of actions.

A child needs to be forced to take their shots, or else they and others will get sick. But a child wouldn't consent to shots.

Kids' taste buds are something to keep in mind but many kids would be eating things they shouldn't. Try to find vegetables and fruits and lean meats and good carbs they like, but eating only processed fat and sugar isn't okay.

Full bodily autonomy of children would be abuse. Having a child succumb to rabies, having a child stuffing their face full of trash and suffering from malnutrition, having a child grow up to know nothing, that's neglect.

Not to try and disagree with you on the other stuff! I'm pretty sure you already thought the previously mentioned was bad but i just wanted to chirp in on the bodily autonomy part. Kids absolutely should be allowed to change hairstyles and stuff.

Also a lot of people have an irrational view of children as parasites and burdens. If you said "I hate children" many people wouldn't bat an eye. If you say "I hate x" and x is a different group of people, you would be in hot water.

I actually told this to my ex and he said that was stupid, but i think that shows how we don't treat children the best. I remember as a kid I was always pushed around and refused answers and told not to question authority even if they were doing something wrong! Instead of telling me why or entertaining me for a moment, I was considered as a child with a problem with authority figures. But I don't think I changed that much. My questions and observations are treated (usually) like something to explain.

I still question authority. But I don't get told I'm being bad and doing it wrong. I get told why this usually incorrect thing is correct in this case. They listen to me when I explain why they're doing it wrong.

Children can be insufferable, but they're tiny and navigating this world without the skills and experience we have. Be kind to children. Treat them like sapient beings. Please.

kids deserve so much more respect and it turns out that saying that is a great way to locate the horrible people in any community <3

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softjeekies · 16 hours ago

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Waiting After The Rain - 13

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, violence, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory, cursing, not beta read

A/N: sorry about another longer wait, i hope this chapter was worth the wait. thank you guys for all the support, it warms my heart <3

previous chapter // next chapter(coming soon)

The entire pack could sense how fast your heart raced all morning.

“I’m just not hungry.” Your head feels heavy as you lay it on the table next to the bowl Minho was trying to get you to eat.

“Me and you both know that’s a lie, you’re just nervous, which is completely valid but that doesn’t mean you get to not eat today. What if I feed you?” You try hard to hold back a smile from forming, but it’s too silly. A strong alpha feeding you like a little baby, it’s sort of cute.

“Ah I see that smile, now sit up and open wide.” You give in, Minho brings the food to your lips with a smile plastered across his face at the accomplishment. As usual, the food is delicious, and you can’t deny yourself finishing the bowl.

“See, that wasn’t hard.”

“I’m just scared.”

“I know, but I promise you everything will be okay. Don’t worry so much, you’ll make yourself sick.”

Finding out the gender is a big deal and can be a fun milestone but your mind is more focused on what could go wrong. The doctor would also be checking your progress on getting a healthier weight and getting the baby to a more appropriate size, and the latter scares you the most because if your pup hadn’t made enough progress you probably wouldn’t find out the gender at all today, and you know how excited the pack is. They did their best to ease your nerves today, spending as much time with you as possible, helping you get ready for the day, and each pack member left you with a gentle good luck kiss on your forehead before heading off to work.

Your nerves still got the best of you, causing you to stand patiently at the door shoes and coat already on just waiting for Chan to say it was time to go. Speaking up for yourself and your needs is probably one of the biggest hurdles you face with the pack, they’ve tried really hard to get you to let them know when something’s up or you need something but it’s hard, after so many years of being forced into silence and submission even asking to leave for your own doctor’s appointment is a lot. Seeing Chan come running down the stairs knocks you out of your thoughts.

“Babe, you didn’t have to wait by the door, you could have come and gotten me!” He’s not angry, it’s almost adorable how patient you are, it would be if he didn’t know this was due to your anxiety and trauma.

“It’s okay, I haven’t been waiting long. I know you wouldn’t make us late.” You keep your head down playing with your fingers when Chan takes one of your hands in his.

“I would never! Now let’s go see our pup.”

The wait for the doctor once you get into the room is the worst, such a huge moment so close yet so far away. Chan does his best to ease your nerves, never letting go of your hand.

“Felix was telling me about how you guys were looking at baby stuff yesterday, did you find anything you liked?”

“Uh, I’m not sure, I think I want to see stuff in person, really feel things, does that make sense?” Chan’s face lights up as an idea pops into his head.

“How about, as a reward for you being so strong today after this we’ll go pick up Han and Felix and go shopping, I’ll get you whatever you want!” The way Chan’s eyes scream ‘please let me do this for you my alpha needs it’ gives way to the fact that he wants this, maybe even more than you. So for once you don’t protest, just a simple hum before the doctor comes in interrupting whatever the alpha wanted to say next.

“Well hello there you two, Y/N you already look so much better than the last time I saw you, good job!”

You smile at the acknowledgment of your effort, you want to say it wasn’t you, Minho completely handles your meals and Seungmin can’t be near you for more than five seconds without offering you a snack or even a taste of whatever he’s eating, but that gets caught in your throat.

“Let’s see baby.” The doctor speaks, turning off the lights and getting ready for the ultrasound. While still holding onto Chan’s hand you raise Jeongin’s sweatshirt above your belly and take a deep breath.

“Same as last time, it’s going to be a little cold, just let me know if you need to stop for any reason at any time.” You give a smile but your eyes are trained on the monitor, far more interested in seeing your pup than anything else.

And suddenly nothing else matters, seeing that little baby blob will never get old. You can’t even imagine how much of a mess you’ll be when you actually get to see the baby outside of your womb. Your mind wanders for a moment to thoughts of the birth and what’s to come after it. Would the pack want to be there? Will they want to hold the pup? Would you let them? A tear slips down your cheek as the doctor examines what she’s seeing.

“Everything looks amazing, you did everything right! Now how do we feel about knowing the gender?”

“Can you maybe put it in an envelope, so me my pack and can look at it later… together.” You look over at Chan to gauge his reaction, catching a shocked expression taking over his face in the middle of wiping his tears. You can’t help but giggle, he’s too cute. The doctor hums and cleans up the gel, allowing you to pull the sweater back down.

“Of course, I’ll get that printed out for you! There is something I’d like to discuss before you leave though.” Your heart rate picks up and Chan squeezes your hand, you give the doctor a nod.

“Well as your pregnancy progresses, you may experience some more symptoms. I know you have a difficult past so I’m not sure how you feel about it but I’d like to say that given the significant progress you’ve made and how good the baby is looking, I’d like to clear you on having sex, if that’s something you want to do anytime soon.” Your face immediately turns bright red, in contrast to the nasty pit forming in your stomach. The doctor takes note of your change in your demeanor.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I have this talk with all my pregnant patients. Your hormones are changing and spiking, and you may feel urges due to this and I don’t want you to be scared. That is completely normal and safe.” You give the doctor a shy nod and she smiles back at you before exiting the room As soon as the doctor leaves you let out a nervous laugh.

“Sorry if that was awkward, I didn’t think she’d bring that up.” With no verbal response, Chan pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you for including us all in this moment, and just, thank you for making me a dad.” He doesn’t bring up the doctor’s words, far more focused on the excitement of the gender reveal and being a dad, and you really appreciate that. Chan helps you off the bed so you can grab the envelope and head home to get Felix and Han.

Once the omegas get in the car they immediately bombard you with questions about the pup, well more specifically the gender.

“I decided, we will all find out together later tonight.” You speak hesitantly, still a little shaken up from the appointment.

“Aw, but I thought we were your special boys, can’t we just get a little sneak peek?” Han whines causing you to let out a laugh.

“Come on Hannie, won’t it be so cute for all of us to find out together?” The alpha raises his eyebrow at Jisung through the review mirror and the omega immediately slumps in his seat.

“Yeah, I guess that’s kind of cute or whatever.” He’s playing it cool but inside his heart feels like mush, the idea that he and his pack are going to be dads is starting to feel real for him, and he couldn’t be happier.

When Chan entered the baby store he was immediately hit by a wave of serious cuteness aggression, this was definitely going to be a day.

Felix really took the lead here, coming prepared with a list of what you’d need to get, but reassured you that you didn’t have to follow it at all, he just wanted to give you a rough idea of what to look at today. They all took notice of how hesitant you were, feather light touches on a crib causing Chan to take it upon himself to wrap his arms around your waist, comfortably swaying side to side.

“Do you like this one?”

“I’m not sure. This one is really pretty and Felix said it has good reviews online but it’s a little pricey.”

“Oh baby, that’s no problem! I told you, you get whatever you want.” Chan spins you around still holding you in his arms.

“You do not need to spend this kind of money on my baby.” Your pout makes his inner alpha purr, how could you be this cute?

“Our baby. And I don’t work all these hours to have nothing to show for it. I have the money, don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing. I will always take care of my omegas.” It seems all your blood rushes to your cheeks again at, well everything he just said. Your omega purrs in contentment, begging you to give in to the alpha.

“Let’s look at other stuff, we can grab the crib last.” You huff and walk towards the omegas, Chan hot on your tail refusing to let you go too far from him. You find the omegas sitting in rocking chairs, testing them, as they would protest when you asked what the hell they were doing.

“You should test them out too!” The brunette omega pipes up, getting up and gesturing for you to try out his pick. It’s a plush rocking chair, you can’t remember seeing a chair so soft and welcoming in your life. Your body quite literally sinks into the seat, like it was made for you. The pack members think the same, each one of them sensing that their mates are feeling the exact same way watching the display in front of them. The perfect image of you holding the cutest little pup floats around in their heads, their hearts warm, minds beginning to fuzz, they are melting for you. The three hear their inner wolves growl in unison speaking the same words.

Mine. Must mate. Our Mate.

This wasn’t the first time their wolves demanded this of them, the second your smell hit their noses they knew. You have always been theirs, now they just have a lot of time to make up for what was lost.

“You need to get that.” The alpha’s voice cracked, causing giggles to come from Han and Felix.

“Hmm, it is pretty comfy.” You hum.

“So it’s yours.” The alpha purrs trying to play it cool after his moment of weakness. You smile at him, which only causes his heart to yearn more. Felix gets up from his chair the second he realizes you’re getting up as well, something he’s started doing recently as you began to show more. Without even realizing you groan, your body yearns to sit back down. The blonde omega places a hand on the small of your back rubbing soft circles.

“Are you tired? Do you want to head home? We can grab what we picked out and call it a day!“ It’s Chan who comes closer to you two and begins to fret.

“If you guys want to keep shopping we can, it’s no big deal.” You’re only turned away from Felix for a split second before he gently takes your chin to get you to look at him.

“No. We are only here for you, now you are tired and that’s okay sweetheart. How about you stay here with Hannie and me and Chan hyung will grab the furniture you picked out, pay, and we’ll grab you when we’re done!” Any protest you could have given falls in your throat thanks to Felix’s calming demeanor, his smile screams at you that everything is okay.

Back at home, as the rest of the pack trickles in throughout the evening, you all agree to wait until after dinner to find out the gender of your pup. Minho is joking about not spoiling dinner with dessert. It ends up being hard for all of you to get through dinner, Han bouncing in his seat begging everyone to hurry up, Chan’s scent is all over the place, Hyunjin is so excited he’s barely interested in the plate in front of him, Jeongin is extremely quiet, even for him. You’re all on the edge of something so huge, the food cannot vanish fast enough. Yet as soon as the last fork hits the plate you all stare at each other, suddenly extremely nervous, realizing just how real this is hitting you all at once.

Felix takes the lead once again, leading you all to the kitchen island so you can stand around it, around this magical piece of paper.

“We will all close our eyes, including me. I will unfold this and place it in the center. On the count of three, we open our eyes and see what our pup is, got it?” A mix of nervous and eager agreements fills the room, and you shut your eyes waiting for the omega’s countdown.

“Three… Two… One!” You all open your eyes together leaning close to try and make sense of the letters on the page. Jeongin is the first one to speak, or more so scream.

“It’s a girl! We’re having our girl!” The young omega yelps yet everything sounds so quiet as he pulls you into a hug. Slowly you feel each of them hug you as well, you’d never experienced a group hug before, it feels safe, it feels like home. Like a happy scene in one of the movies, everything moves in slow motion, the cheers of your packmates sound muffled but you can tell they are all happy, and you’re happy too. A little girl, a little girl you can love and protect in ways you never could. It feels like a second chance, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Your baby girl was already so loved. Jeongin takes your face in his hands gently and it grounds you, the volume rises and everything moves at the correct pace again, you take in the reactions of the pack for a moment, each one of them in tears, which makes you realize you’re crying too.

“I love you so much Y/N. Thank you for staying, thank you for trusting us, thank you for giving us our daughter.” It’s not just your pup, you are loved here.

“I love you too. All of you.” And for once, you know what it feels like to have that feeling reciprocated.

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modanisgf · 1 day ago

Text

NEEDY , MEGAN SKIENDIEL .

"GOOD AT OVERTHINKING WITH MY HEART."

in which a certain double date gets brought back to light, leading to a jealous y/n.

☆ PAIRING(S) : megan skiendiel x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S) : kissing, corny ending lowk im sorry.. 😭

☆ TAGS : wlw, established relationship, fluff, angst??, jealousy, wc: 995

masterlist

request from this ask! :)

megan knew it was over when daniela started talking about her past double date. the atmosphere was calm and lighthearted before, daniela going on about one of her exes. some of the other girls chimed in as well, turning the quiet room into one full of laughter. it was all harmless, all up until daniela remembered something megan and lara had tried to bury.

“hey, wait. remember when lara and megan went on that double date?” daniela added, barely getting the words out through her laughter.

“oh my god.. that was so bad. i can’t believe megan went back to that guy after he locked her in his car.” lara replies, laughing through each word as well.

“shut up.. it was a one time thing, i was going through it.” megan mumbles, rubbing her temple in annoyance.

meanwhile, y/n was forcing a laugh from beside megan. to be entirely honest, something about megan going on a double date irked her. obviously, it was before they were together but megan and y/n had been friends for years. why did megan never tell her? were they never close enough for that kind of conversation? y/n just had her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her, trying not to show any emotion. the girls had moved on by now, but she still felt this sinking feeling in her chest. y/n just sat back, scrolling on her phone with her jaw clenched. she felt bad for reacting this way, but something about the date made her entire mood change.

megan noticed a shift in her girlfriend's mood, the girl beside her finally putting her phone down once she noticed megan looking at her. megan grabbed y/n’s hand, interlocking their hands before leaning close to her girlfriend.

“is everything okay?” megan whispers, leaning near y/n’s ear.

y/n just nodded, moving her hand away from megan’s. the action made megan frown, she knew something was up. but as time passed on, y/n kept talking like nothing had ever happened replying to megan like they were just acquaintances. megan just sighed, laying back as her girlfriend and group members talked. she wasn’t exactly sure how to address the situation, she knew y/n was mad at her. it wasn’t a great feeling, being ignored by the person she cared about most. so she made it her mission to get y/n alone.

megan dropped a hand onto y/n’s shoulder, grasping it firmly before leaning in close to her ear again.

“i want to talk to you, please tell me what’s wrong.” megan murmurs, the closeness of the two making y/n groan in annoyance quietly.

“fine,” she whispers back, “only because you being this close to me is making me nervous.” she says, mumbling the last part under her breath.

megan had heard her though, a smile making its way onto her face.

“meet me in my room in a second?” megan suggests, to which y/n nods.

megan had left first, stating she needed to call her brother about something. y/n going next five minutes later, saying she had to use the bathroom. she opened megan’s door as quietly as possible, closing it the same way. y/n was met with a seemingly distressed megan, she felt sort of bad. but she couldn’t get the double date out of her mind.

“y/n, please talk to me. why are you ignoring me?” megan asks, her hand reaching down to hold her girlfriend’s waist, the latter choosing not to protest megan’s touch this time.

“i wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, i just felt a little off.” y/n assures megan.

“y/n, there’s something else i can tell.” megan presses, gently.

“it’s stupid..” y/n mumbles, her girlfriends face softening at her words.

“if it bothered you that bad, it’s not stupid i promise.” megan replies.

y/n didn’t notice at first, but megan’s reassurance made her lips curl up into a smile. her hands made their way up to megan’s neck, holding onto the girl as if she was going to disappear. y/n held megan closer to her, laying her head down into the crook of her girlfriend's neck.

“to be entirely honest, daniela bringing up your double date made me feel weird.” y/n confesses.

“feel weird as in… jealous?” megan replies in a teasing tone.

y/n just groans, “no.”

“whatever you say n/n.” megan says, laughing a bit.

“but trust me, i promise the date was forever ago. lara dragged me on that date to try and get over someone.” megan murmurs.

“to get over who?” y/n asks, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she looks up at megan.

“you. i wasn’t sure if you liked me at the time, and i didn’t wanna ruin our friendship. but even when i was on that date, all i could think about was you.” megan replies, laughing at the sight of y/n trying not to smile.

“were you thinking of me, especially when he locked you in that car?” y/n jokes, earning a groan from megan.

“yeah, i can’t believe we went on a second date..” the black-haired girl mutters.

the two laughed about it now, the tension returning once they stopped. y/n was staring at megan now, taking in all of her features.

“you’re so pretty.” y/n mutters, receiving a smile from megan.

“thank you.” megan replies quietly, staring down at y/n’s lips.

her eyes trailed on the girl in front of her lips for a good minute, before she brought her other hand up to hold y/n’s face.

“can i kiss you?” megan asks softly, to which y/n just gives a small nod.

megan leaned in, tightening her grip on y/n’s waist. the kiss was gentle but short, a nervous look on megan’s face once they pulled away.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

#katseye #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye x female reader #megan skiendiel x reader #megan skiendiel #megan katseye #megan katseye x reader #wlw

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kryptonnkisses · 17 hours ago

Text

Mr. Kent

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: clark kent x reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰: light spanking, safe words, Clark being so sweet and caring, pet names, slight degradation, slight humiliation, blindfolds, restraints, overstimulation, edging, PIV, fingering, oral sex (f!recieving), light choking, light hairpulling, but it was only for a second, everything is consensual! 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,101 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: trying something different with your boyfriend, Clark Kent. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬—Slightly based on that tie scene in Fifty Shades lolol

((reblogs are the only way tumblr fics gain attention! if you enjoyed, please reblog :))

Convincing Clark wasn't an easy thing to do.

He would protest at your comments about your wanting to sleep alone on certain days. Not out of selfishness, never that—but because he genuinely believed you slept better with his arms around you.

Which, to be fair, was true most nights.

He'd pout and mumble something like, “But I like holding you…” as if that alone should change your mind. And sometimes, it did.

That was the thing about Clark. He wasn’t difficult in the traditional sense. He didn’t stomp or argue or raise his voice. He was sweet and caring. Like if he shouted at you, you’d break into a million pieces. He just had this way of looking at you, all puppy-eyed and earnest, like whatever you were asking him to consider might ruin him a little bit.

So, when you first mentioned wanting to be tied up—trying to play it off as a flirty joke—you watched the gears in his mind grind to a halt. “Tying you up?” he asked, as if you'd suggested kryptonite cuffs and a five-day sentence.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Could be fun.”

His brow furrowed in that adorable, overthinking way. “But… are you sure? What if you don’t like it? What if something goes wrong? What if I do it too tight, or not tight enough, or—”

All you heard was that he wasn't against the idea. You quickly shut him up with a peck before he could spiral more.

“Clark,” you murmured, lips just brushing his, “you tie your shoelaces with precision. I trust you.”

“But that’s—baby, this is different,” he insisted, even as his hands instinctively came to rest on your cheek. “You’d be vulnerable.”

“Exactly,” you grinned. “That’s the point. I want to feel a little helpless. Safe, but... helpless. And no one makes me feel safer than you.”

That got him quiet. Thinking. Brows still knit, but the hesitation softened.

“And,” you added, voice dropping to a teasing murmur, “I like the idea of being at your mercy. Doesn’t that sound kind of hot?”

His breath caught. You saw the flicker behind his eyes—the mental image forming despite himself. He bit his bottom lip, and you could practically hear the gears shifting.

“Maybe… just light stuff at first,” he said, like he wasn’t already halfway convinced.

You grinned, triumphant.

A few days go by as you both go through some conditions and try to find the perfect time. Clark, being Clark, took it seriously in the way only he could—googling safe restraint materials, making a note in his phone about circulation and pressure points, and even briefly entertaining the idea of taking a class. You had to stop him there.

“I love you,” you said, tugging him down for a kiss, “but if you show up with a color-coded PowerPoint, I’m calling it off.”

He laughed sheepishly. “I just want to get it right.”

And you knew he would. That was never the problem.

Finally, one quiet evening rolls in—rain tapping gently at the windows, your apartment wrapped in the kind of stillness that feels made for secrets. Clark had made dinner, washed the dishes, and was now pacing just a little, pretending he wasn’t nervous.

You were already on the bed, robe loosely tied, watching him with a mix of affection and heat.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you said gently, even though you could already tell he would.

“I want to,” he answered. Then, after a pause, “I think I just needed to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Open. Trusting me.” His voice dipped a little. “Wanting me.”

The words made your stomach flutter.

He stepped closer, one hand running through his hair as he looked down at the silk ties you’d left out. His fingers brushed over them carefully, as if they were somehow alive. When he met your gaze again, something in his expression had shifted—less worry, more intent.

“Okay,” he murmured, “tell me what to do.”

You sat up straighter, heart quickening. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Just walk me through it.”

And so you did—slowly, gently, watching the way his hands trembled just a little as he followed your guidance, tying your wrists together with the soft fabric, securing them to the headboard with practiced tenderness.

“You good?” he asked, kneeling beside you, eyes flicking between your bound hands and your face.

You smiled, breathless already. “I’m perfect.”

His jaw tightened slightly, a flush creeping up his neck. You could tell—this was doing something to him. The control, the reverence, the fact that you trusted him with this. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your neck, then your collarbone, like he was grounding himself with every inch of you.

And when his hands finally slid down your sides, deliberate and slow, you realized you weren’t the only one feeling helpless tonight.

He gently took the next silk tie, wrapping it around your eyes.

“Good? Not too tight?” He asked ever so gently, keeping his hands on your face as if grounding you.

“This is good,” you smiled with a soft breath.

The moment lingered in the stillness between you. With your vision gone, everything else is heightened. You felt the weight of the bed shift as he moved, the faint rustle of his shirt brushing your knee, and the warm exhale near your ear a second before he pressed a kiss just beneath it.

“You look…” he hesitated, breath catching. “You look incredible like this.”

You let out a quiet, pleased sigh, your body already humming with anticipation. “You’re doing great.”

He let out a nervous chuckle, and you could tell—he was still finding his footing, still wrapping his mind around this version of you, of him, of the power you’d placed so willingly in his hands.

His hand slid down your arm, slow and steady, tracing every inch like he was memorizing you. Then another kiss—lower, this time, just above your collarbone. His fingers danced over your ribs, hesitant for only a second before they flattened against your stomach, grounding both of you.

“Remember our safe word?” he murmured.

“Yup, pineapples,” you smiled softly.

He nodded. “Good. Stop me at any point.”

“I will,” you promised.

And he believed you. That’s what made him bold enough to go further—his touch growing firmer, more curious. His hand skimmed over the curve of your hip, his lips brushing against your skin in a slow trail that made you arch into him without thinking.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the shift in his energy. The way the nerves melted into something heavier, darker. The way his breath started to hitch like he was realizing he liked this.

Liked the control. Liked the way your body responded to every move he made. Liked knowing you wanted this, wanted him this way.

“Clark…” You breathed, half a moan, half a warning.

He paused, hands freezing on your waist. “Too much?”

“No,” you said quickly, lips parting as your heart thudded against your ribs. “Not enough.”

That pulled a low, stunned laugh from him. “God, you’re going to kill me.”

Then his mouth was on yours again—more possessive this time—while his hands slid lower, gripping, exploring, and learning.

Fingertips skimmed over your ribs, dipped into the hollow just below your breasts. The silk at your wrists tightened with the slight movement of your arms, but you didn’t pull away—you arched toward him, chasing more.

He exhaled slowly, as if the sight of you like this had knocked the air out of him. His lips followed his hands—pressing into your sternum, your shoulder, and the soft underside of your breast. No rush. Just reverence.

You whimpered when his tongue flicked against your nipple, your body jerking in surprise. Without sight, it was too much—sharp and hot and intimate. Your hips lifted off the bed on instinct.

“Sensitive,” he murmured against your skin, voice tinged with wonder.

You could only nod, breath catching as his teeth grazed lightly, then soothed with another kiss.

His hands kept moving, down the line of your sides, tracing the curve of your hips with a possessive grip that made your thighs clench. His thumbs pressed into your inner thighs, and you gasped at the pressure—like it sent a current straight through you.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” he asked, half wanting to make sure you're comfortable and just wanting to hear you ask for him.

Your cheeks burned pink. “I—everywhere, I want you everywhere…” You squeaked out.

He chuckled darkly somewhere far from you. “You can be more specific, honey.”

You bit your lips, letting out a soft whine, “God—I don’t know. It’s all too much and then not enough at the same time.”

That seemed to do something to him. You felt the mattress shift as he hovered over you again, body close but not touching yet. His breath ghosted over your cheek, his voice a low rasp near your ear.

“I want to ruin you so gently you beg me not to stop.”

You shivered, head pressing back into the pillows, chest heaving.

He dragged his mouth down your stomach, teeth grazing lightly. Hands everywhere, gripping, spreading, grounding. You couldn't see him, but you felt him—all of him. And when his hand slid between your legs at last, you gasped like it was the first time you’d ever been touched.

You were already dizzy with it—the weight of every moment, every breath, every inch of his skin on yours magnified by the darkness behind the silk over your eyes.

Your world had narrowed to nothing but the heat of his mouth and the deliberate way he moved, touching you like he was writing a language across your skin.

You could feel him between your thighs now—his chest against the inside of one knee, his breath ghosting over your folds. Kissing your inner thighs tenderly, making you jump at each one. The fact you couldn't see. Couldn't anticipate. And that made every second stretch, unbearable and addictive all at once.

Then he licked you.

You cried out, hips jolting, wrists tugging instinctively at the silk restraints. The sound you made was raw and startled—it was too sudden. His tongue was warm and slow, unrelenting in its drag, teasing over your clit in a lazy, confident stroke that had your back arching off the bed.

“Clark—” you gasped, voice breaking as your thighs tried to close around him.

He held them open easily, firmly, his strength never rough but impossible to ignore.

“Don’t run from it,” he murmured against your skin, mouth hot and slick. “Feel it. Let me give this to you.”

Another lick. A swirl. A kiss that was too soft for the mess it left in its wake. You whimpered, head tipping back, your mind spiraling because you couldn’t see where he was or what he’d do next. All you had was sensation.

His tongue pressed flat against your clit, slow pressure that had your toes curling. Then a flick—just one, fast and precise—and your whole body jerked.

You didn’t even hear him move before you felt his fingers slide inside you, one at first, then two, filling you in a way that made your eyes flutter behind the blindfold. His mouth didn’t leave you—his tongue and fingers working in tandem, building you too fast and too slow at the same time.

You couldn’t predict him. Couldn’t brace. Couldn’t see the warning signs. You were just a body and a heartbeat and a need, strung tight under his hands.

“Please—Clark, please—”

He groaned at the sound of your voice, the pitch of your desperation. “You’re shaking.”

“I can’t—” You gasped, thighs trembling around his shoulders. “I can’t think—”

“I know.” He sounded proud of it. “That’s the point.”

And then he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You shattered.

It hit in waves—deep and rolling, your body seizing and then trembling as your orgasm tore through you. You cried out, raw and unfiltered, head tossing against the pillows, arms pulling fruitlessly at the silk. You couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t control a damn thing. But God, you felt it. Every nerve lit up like fire.

You were undone.

He didn’t stop right away. Just eased you through it, fingers slow inside you, tongue gentle now, coaxing every last tremble from your thighs.

When he finally pulled back, you were shaking—half sobbing, half laughing, wrecked and breathless.

You felt the bed dip beside you, the warmth of his body crawling up over yours. He cupped your face again, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You okay?” he whispered.

You nodded, then managed, voice hoarse, “I think I left my body.”

Clark chuckled, brushing kisses over your jaw. “I’ll go find it.”

You're still floating when he loosens the silk from the bedpost, his fingers gentle. But he doesn’t remove the blindfold.

“You’re not done,” he says, voice lower than before—still Clark, still warm, but with an edge that wasn’t there earlier.

Your breath catches. “No?”

He pulls you upright, guiding you until you’re straddling his lap. Your body is limp with the aftermath of your release, but your skin sparks with anticipation. His hands rest heavy on your hips, holding you in place.

“You came without permission,” he says simply.

Your mouth opens—part shock, part arousal. “I didn’t know I needed it.”

“I should’ve said something,” he admits quietly, and you can hear it—that little tremor, that flicker of doubt. But then his fingers flex against your skin. “Still. Maybe I should remind you who’s in charge.”

You shiver. You can’t see him, but you can feel the shift in his posture, the tension in his thighs under yours.

“What are you going to do about it?” You tease, your voice a little breathless, trying to ground him in your shared play.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then his voice, low and focused: “Hands and knees. Now.”

It’s not a yell. Not even a bark. But it’s commanding enough to make you obey without thinking, heat surging through your already-sensitive body.

He guides you carefully—still a little cautious, making sure you're steady, but there’s purpose in the way he pushes you forward, your knees digging into the sheets as your chest presses down and your ass arches up.

You feel the bed shift behind you. His hand ghosts over the curve of your backside.

Then, a sharp slap.

You gasp—more from the sound than the sting. It’s not hard. He held back. But it surprises you and sends a jolt straight through your core.

“Too much?” he asks quickly, already rubbing over the spot like an apology.

“No,” you manage, breath trembling. “You can do more.”

Another pause. Then a second slap, this one a little firmer, followed by his palm smoothing over the heat of your skin. You moan, instinctively pushing back against him.

“You liked that,” he says, and this time, there’s pride in it. Curiosity. Hunger.

“I liked you doing that,” you breathe. “You don’t have to be perfect. Just keep going.”

That does something to him.

His next slap lands confidently, the sound echoing louder, making you jolt forward with a soft cry. His other hand holds your hip now, keeping you steady, grounding you even as he pushes you further.

“Next time,” he murmurs, voice darker now, “you ask before you come.”

The words flood through you, your breath catching on them. The Clark you knew was still in there—but now there was something else, something growing.

He leans forward, mouth against your ear as his fingers slip back between your legs, already slick and pulsing.

“Think you can follow the rules now?” he asks, teasing as he circles your clit.

“I’ll try,” you whimper, hips rolling shamelessly.

He chuckles against your skin, low and pleased.

“We’ll see.”

And then he starts again—fingers thrusting, mouth on your neck, and you’re already climbing, already falling apart all over again... this time, holding on desperately for permission.

You’re panting already, thighs shaking as his fingers work into you again—slow at first, then deeper, firmer, curling just right. He had three fingers in you at this point. Working you open just right—His palm presses against your ass, keeping you steady, and you’re so wet, so open, that the sound of it makes you blush.

Every time the heat builds—your body clenching, hips grinding back for more—he slows. Pauses. Withdraws just enough to let it all slip from your grasp.

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “You know better.”

His tone is firmer now. Confident. And it wrecks you.

You try to grind down on his hand, desperate for friction, but he’s quicker. He pulls his fingers out entirely and lands another sharp slap to your ass, making you yelp.

“Behave.”

You breathe hard through your nose, muscles trembling, the ache in your core deepening with every denial.

“You’re doing so good,” he says, softer now, brushing his fingers down your spine. “But I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He leans in—close enough that you feel the heat of his chest against your back, his breath against your ear. One hand slips around your waist to your clit again, fingers circling lightly. The other reaches up to tug gently on the tie around your eyes, adjusting it just slightly, but still not removing it.

"You said you wanted to feel helpless," he whispers. "This is what it means."

Then his fingers slide back inside you—slick and strong and unfair—and your entire body arches as you moan into the mattress. The pressure builds fast. Too fast. You’re ready again, already teetering—

And again, he pulls away.

You choke on the frustration, a sound caught between a sob and a growl. “Please, please, Clark—”

“You’re close,” he hums, lips brushing your shoulder. “I can feel it. You pulse around me like you’re begging.”

You nod frantically, writhing now, helpless beneath him.

“But you don’t get to come until I say so.”

You whimper, forehead pressed to the sheets. You’re trembling so hard now your knees slip slightly, and he catches you, adjusting your legs back into place.

“Hold it for me,” he murmurs. “You can do that, can’t you?”

You nod again, broken. “Yes. Yes.”

He slides two fingers in again, this time curling deep, dragging slowly in and out as he rubs your clit in lazy, tormenting circles. You’re right there, breath caught, thighs shaking uncontrollably—and then he stops again, leaving you empty and drenched and gasping.

You sob into the sheets, hips rutting against nothing.

Clark lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. You can hear it now—his arousal thick in his voice, the unspoken groan in his throat.

“God,” he whispers, almost to himself. “You’re incredible like this.”

Then his hand settles against your lower back, firm and grounding.

“We’ll try again,” he says. “But this time, you don’t come until I let you.”

You felt something bigger slide between your legs.

“And if you do…” He leans in, voice rougher now. “I’ll make you regret it.”

Then all you feel is him. Thick and hot, stretching you in a way that made your mouth fall open even before he moved. Your nails scraped against the sheets, the blindfold keeping your world dark, your senses tangled in nothing but heat and skin and him.

Then he thrusts forward, slow and deliberate—deep—and you cry out as he practically bottoms out in one long, controlled motion. Your body clenches hard around him, instinctively, involuntarily, already too close from everything he’d done before.

You can’t see him, but you feel him everywhere—his breath against your neck, his hands gripping your hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he holds still for one brutal second, allowing you to adjust.

“You’re tight,” he groans into your ear. “You’re so soaked.”

Your whole body shudders and burns with humiliation. The pressure is immediate and unbearable. You’re already wound so tight, every nerve exposed. The blindfold makes it worse—better—stripping away everything but the heat in your core and the overwhelming feeling of being filled, held, and controlled.

Then he moves.

The first few thrusts are slow and measured—his hands steady on your hips, guiding you to take him inch by inch. You try to breathe through it, to keep your body from tipping over, but it’s impossible. He’s too deep and too thick, and the slow drag of him pulling out and sliding back in has you gasping and trembling.

“Clark—” you beg, voice cracking.

“Not yet,” he growls, picking up the pace.

His hips slap against yours, steady now, deep strokes that hit exactly where they need to, and your legs nearly give out beneath you. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls just enough to arch your back, forcing you to take every inch of him as he pounds into you.

“Don’t you dare come,” he bites out, voice wrecked with restraint. “Not until I say.”

It’s too much. You can’t see, you can’t think, and your body is on fire. Every thrust sends shockwaves through your core. Your clit throbs, untouched but aching, and every time your walls flutter around him, he groans—low, guttural, trying so hard not to lose control.

“You’re shaking,” he pants, one hand sliding under your body to hold you up as he drives deeper. “You want to come so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you sob, nodding against the sheets. “Clark, please—please—”

His hips slow. He leans in close again, chest to your back, cock buried deep as his hand slides to your throat—not squeezing, just holding you there, steady and vulnerable.

“Then be a good girl and hold it.”

He starts thrusting again—faster now, harder—and your body is screaming for release. Your legs shake violently, your core spasming around him as you try—desperately—to obey. To be good. To wait.

But you’re right at the edge.

Every thrust pushes you closer. Every word, every groan, every slap of his hips is like a match to dry kindling.

You're falling apart.

And he knows it.

He pulls out halfway just to slam back in again, hard enough to knock the breath out of you. Your cry is muffled into the pillow, but he hears it—feels your body clench down around him like it can’t bear to let go.

“God,” he mutters, laughing under his breath, breath hot against your neck. “You’re clinging to me. Like your body doesn’t want me to stop.”

You whimper—humiliated, turned on beyond belief—and his hand slides down your back, warm and commanding.

“You like this,” he growls, hips snapping against yours. “Don’t you? You like not being able to see. Not knowing what I’m gonna do next.”

Another deep thrust makes you sob.

“You begged for this. You told me you wanted to be helpless, and now look at you. Shaking. Leaking down your thighs. Moaning like a needy slut.”

You let out a strangled gasp at his words—your whole face flushing hot. He never called you that before. But your body responds with a helpless squeeze around him.

He groans, voice ragged now. “God. You liked that?”

You nod, barely able to form a sound.

“Oh, you’re loving this,” he taunts, voice rough but dripping with heat. “You're dripping like you’ve never been touched before. Poor thing can’t even see what’s making her feel this good. Just knows she needs more.”

His hand reaches around and cups your sex, palm grinding against your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk back into him.

“I’m close, baby. Just hold on with me,” he whispered into your ears.

His hands grow tighter on your hips, but his breathing’s uneven now, his movements a little messier; he’s unraveling right alongside you.

“Fuck,” he pants, slowing just enough to catch his breath. “You feel too good—too perfect.”

You whine under him, trembling, aching, barely able to stay up on your elbows. Every nerve in your body is on fire, on edge, desperate to fall over that line you’ve been riding for what feels like forever.

And suddenly his hands are everywhere—roaming, searching. He leans down over your back and kisses you. Not just one, but a trail of kisses down your spine, your shoulder blades, and your neck. Warm, messy, frantic.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmurs, voice shaking. “I need you everywhere.”

Your fingers trail down your chest, slow and curious, until they meet his hand—still resting against your sex, protective as ever. You take it in yours, interlacing your fingers, and then—deliberately—you bring his hand up.

Higher.

Over your sternum.

Up your neck.

And finally, you guide it to rest softly against your throat.

His hips slow, but not to a full stop.

His breath catches. “You sure?”

You nod slowly, eyes half-lidded. “I trust you.”

His fingers flex just slightly, curling around your throat—not squeezing, not pressing, just holding. Testing. Feeling your pulse jump beneath his palm. His hand at your throat tightens just slightly—perfectly—pinning you to the moment while his other hand trails down, gripping your ass.

His hips grind against yours with a slower, deeper thrust that makes you cry out, your body arching back into him. He shushes you gently, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, kissing your temple even as your blindfold stays in place. “Letting me ruin you. Letting me hold you like this. Letting me take my time with you. You make me lose my mind.”

His hand at your neck pulls you up slightly so your back meets his chest. You feel his heartbeat against your spine, rapid and erratic, his lips pressed against your shoulder, kissing, breathing you in like he can’t get enough.

You’re gasping now, clenching around him with every thrust, every kiss. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, groaning helplessly.

“Come for me,” he finally whispers. “Now. I want to feel you.”

It’s all you needed.

Your body breaks open—orgasm ripping through you like it’s been waiting hours to hit. You sob his name, fingers digging into the sheets as you convulse around him, completely overwhelmed. Everything explodes at once—blinding, hot, endless—and you fall forward, boneless and trembling, barely able to process the waves crashing through you.

Clark groans behind you, thrusting harder, needier, until he follows—burying himself deep and gasping your name like a prayer as he spills inside you, shaking.

He collapses over your back, arms wrapping around your middle as he presses breathless, desperate kisses across your shoulders, your neck, and your cheek.

The room is quiet now, except for the ragged sound of both your breathing. You’re both slick with sweat, trembling and undone, but all you can feel is the weight of him holding you—grounding you.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just kisses the top of your shoulder again, then rests his forehead there, catching his breath.

“Are you okay?” He finally murmurs, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You nod, eyes still closed beneath the blindfold. “Yeah. Better than okay.”

He exhales in relief and brushes his lips against your shoulder once more. Then, carefully, he shifts off you, his hands slow and steady as he helps you roll onto your back.

“Let me get this,” he says, fingers gently slipping the knot from the silk around your eyes.

The room is dim, soft light glowing on the nightstand, and when your vision adjusts, the first thing you see is him—hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and still a little stunned. He looks at you like he’s not entirely convinced he didn’t just dream the whole thing.

You smile lazily. “You look wrecked.”

His ears go pink. “I feel wrecked.”

You both laugh, and the tension breaks like a bubble. He leans down and starts untying your wrists, fingers delicate and deliberate.

“Was I too rough? With—with the choking thing?” He asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours as he loosens the knot.

“No,” you whisper. “You were perfect.”

Once the silk slips free, he takes your wrists in his hands and presses a kiss to each one—soft, reverent, lingering.

You sigh under the attention. “Now that’s boyfriend behavior.”

He huffs a laugh, still holding your hands like they’re something breakable. “Just making sure you know I didn’t mean the slut thing.”

“I liked the slut thing,” you tease, brushing your knuckles against his jaw. “What I want to talk about is you—cussing, moaning, losing your mind.”

His face flushes instantly.

“I did not lose my mind.”

“Oh, baby,” you grin, stretching a little as your muscles start to relax. “You said ‘fuck, you’re clinging to me’ like I was the last glass of water on Earth.”

Clark groans and hides his face against your neck. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. “But it was hot. Like, stupidly hot.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you—eyes softer now, filled with something warmer than lust. “You’re really okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you murmur. “You took care of me. And then some.”

He lets out a breath, one hand brushing hair from your damp forehead. “I wasn’t sure I could do it.”

“You did more than do it. You nailed it. And then nailed me.”

He laughs again, this time full and loose. Then he pulls you into his chest and wraps you up, like he can finally exhale now that you're safe in his arms.

“I think I’m in trouble,” he murmurs after a moment, fingers trailing lazily up and down your arm.

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I want to do that again.”

You grin, curling into him. “Then it’s a good thing I love being your helpless little problem.”

And with that, you both settle under the covers—sore, sated, and wrapped in something far deeper than silk and sensation.

And in that moment, with his body pressed tightly to yours, his kisses soft and endless, you know no one’s ever going to love you like this again.

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