#all I can is say I’m greatful for my roomie doing the most to help me rn with all this

[glazemedaka]

and my bones adrift.

furina / f!reader (3k) sfw. set after the events of 4.2 archon quest, but before the events of Animula Choragi. slightly contradicts character story #5, but in the spirit of loving furina.

The lights are out; the stage is silent. There's no need for an actress without a show, and no need for a maid without a mistress. But for Furina, the show continues past its final chorus.

On the first day of her new life, she carried her bags herself.

The officers at the waterway dock had asked, several times, if her ladyship needed any assistance? Any help whatsoever? And her ladyship, Furina de Fontaine, had smiled and thanked them, before dramatically declaring that her cases were as light as her heart and swinging them around in wide circles for good measure.

She didn’t tell them that there was nothing inside her cases. All of her ladyship’s things were still in their places within the Palais Mermonia; silver trays and silver tins on spotless shelves, in rooms full of light and mirrors. Perhaps there would even be a slice of cake on its little blue saucer waiting for a her that never came to eat it.

At least she had the aquabus to herself for the journey downcity. She set her cases down, and her smile with it, as the city rooftops rolled by the waterway. No need to wave, no need to pose. No need to do anything at all.

“I’m sure the quiet is a nice break, Lady Furina!” the melusine conductor piped up, from the steering well. “The parties have been getting quite rowdy the last few nights— but of course, people need to celebrate!”

Her ladyship smiled. “Yes, of course. Parties. Yes, I’m going to one just now, actually…”

“… and it’s sure to be the most boring gathering of the season,” she lamented, throwing herself on the pink satin sofa of the dressing room.

“I’m sure they’ll be grateful, then, for your presence, my lady,” you said without looking up, head down over the skirt you were hemming.

“Assuredly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The Marquess Durande will be beside himself—“

“Durande?” you asked absently, shaking out the skirt, assessing your work. “I don’t recall a Durande on the seating chart.”

She could see his face, could remember inviting him. She’d handed him the invitation herself. Surely you were mistaken? Durande with his strong nose and bellowing laugh… Durande with his duelist’s hands… Durande looking over the lake, smaller somehow, with the years resting heavy as he leaned his weight on his cane…

Nephew. It was the nephew who had inherited. He hadn’t changed his name. Right.

“… did you think I said Durande? I said Durvenne, of course! Ahaha!”

The apartment was smaller than the prints had made it seem.

It had a narrow front stair up from the door, with peeling wallpaper that vaguely smelled of pipesmoke and lamp oil, even though the listing in the Steambird had boasted ‘modern lighting conveniences.’ The main room itself was… roomy. There were no walls to divide it up, so light from the unwashed windows filled the space and made every mote of dust more apparent. It came with ‘complimentary furniture,’ as per the listing— though she wouldn’t exactly compliment any of the furniture. There was one wicker chair with a hole in the bottom, a scarred table that looked like the it had survived the great cataclysm and would probably survive another, and the bed, well… it existed.

It was, in a few words: cheap, ugly, and awful. Not at all the sort of place for Furina de Fontaine.

“As you can see,” the manager said, wrestling one of the kitchen cabinets open, “it’s got… quite a bit of storage! Though, of course, if your ladyship finds it lacking, I do have other properties that are a bit, well, more… ”

It was not the first time they had suggested she visit other apartments. Apartments with higher ceilings and new wainscoting. Apartments that would suit her better than this one, with its cramped kitchen and its dingy iron stove and its cracked floor tiles.

“It’s lovely,” she said, and smiled before they could say more. “It will suit me perfectly.”

“If your ladyship is sure…”

She dreamed of a mansion that had fallen into the sea, flooded halls and shattered portrait frames. Beautiful bronze casts greened over by algae and smooth-edged by time, shattered plates and glasses littering carpets centuries out of vogue.

It was an old dream, familiar around the seams; she knew it well.

There was always a door, always, and she needed to find it, to find the door that would save everyone, the door that only she could hold closed. Or open? Was she supposed to open it, or keep it shut? Was she supposed to search for the missing master of the house or was she supposed to take the stage in her stead so the party could carry on?

Kicking off the brass-clad balustrade she drifted deeper and deeper into the bowels of the house, through rotted pantries and ruined closets until finally she felt the knob, just as it began to shake—

She woke in her awful new bed, alone.

flour milk cheese macaroni tomato onion cake?

She tapped her charcoal pencil against the scrap of paper. That was good, right? That was a good list? That seemed like the sorts of things she’d seen in the lithograph illustrations in ladies’ magazines.

The provenance of her meals had never really concerned her; there had always been a bevy of maids and a bushel of butlers to busy themselves with the production of grand banquets and feasts. She simply presented herself at the correct hour, with the correct amount of aplomb, and it all took care of itself. She was beginning to realize that a great deal more effort went into these things than she had thought.

She wished you were here, with your practical little reusable list. You would know just what to buy, and how much, and what sorts of things she would want three days from now. You always did.

But you weren’t here. You were in the Palais Mermonia, doing your job— the great clockwork of daily life hadn’t stopped just because she had packed her cases and moved out. Surely someone else would be grateful to have you brush their hair, and hem their trousers, and read detective novels with them, laughing at the ridiculous premises—

— oh. The charcoal was smeared, wet and messy. Her list was ruined. She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. Perhaps shopping could wait. Yes, it could wait. She’d make a new list, and go tomorrow.

“You never forget a thing,” she said. “However do you remember it all?”

You were cutting something, silver shears carefully circling a scrap of fabric. Without removing the pins from your mouth, you fished a hand into the pocket of your apron, and pressed a flat little piece of metal into her hands. Around the pins, you mumbled, “I wuse ah wist, of couwrseh.”

She turned it over; it had words engraved in a tiny, meticulous script. Flour, milk, cheese, pasta, tomatoes, onions… “That looks more like a plaque than a list. Do you just buy the same things every time?”

“No, silly,” you said, mouth freed of pins. You tapped your finger beside the words. “See? There are little pegs. You slide them over for the things you need, so you remember which ones to buy.”

“How do you remember things that aren’t on here? Special requests, like, oh, I don’t know, my sweetflower syrup…”

You smiled, plucking the list-plaque back from her hands. “I take care not to forget my lady’s special requests.”

“So you’re always thinking of me! I knew it,” she play-preened, pretending at self-indulgence; the role called for it.

“Always,” you said, entirely serious. “You’re always in my thoughts, my lady.”

Her laugh stuttered a beat. “O-oh! Well— good! As it should be!”

Yesterday faded into tomorrow. The morning sun slanted through the dirty windows, cut into neat squares over the narrow, sagging bed. Curtains. She should get curtains. People had curtains. She’d get around to it, tomorrow. Or yesterday. There wasn’t much difference.

She dreamed of the parlor, with the lights dimmed, the day done. You sat behind her, carefully pulling a comb through her hair. Gentle. Always gentle. She leaned against it, enjoying the sensation of resistance.

You had always liked to hum, and you were doing it now. Sometimes it was her songs; sometimes it was older tunes. It was soothing, like the brushing, warm and familiar. Everything here was familiar: the blue velvet stool she sat on, the wide teeth of the comb in her hair, your quiet little song.

“What’s the name of that song?” she asked. She could almost remember it, almost feel the shape of the words in her mouth. She’d sung this one, she was sure of it.

“Oh, now, I dunno, yer ladyship,” you said. Had you always had that accent? “It’s your solo, though. I’m sure you know it by heart.”

Your hands kept brushing, smoothing her hair, rhythmic and steady, as her heart skittered out of sync. By heart. She felt her heart in her chest, hammering, uneasy. By heart. She knew it by heart.

Why couldn’t she remember any of the words?

She turned, finally, to face you. Had your hair always been brown? Yes? No— maybe—

That was your face, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

In the end, hunger won.

The apartment did not come with complimentary food— not that she would have trusted any even if it had. List or no list, she had to get something to eat, even if she didn’t feel like it.

The only trouble with that, it turned out, was not knowing where. Oh, she knew the locations of all the popular cafes—

(and cafes that had been dreamt, built, aged, decayed, ruined, rebuilt, reopened)

… but she didn’t know where to buy dry goods or packaged meals. It couldn’t be that hard, surely. People did it all the time! She could figure this out. She would just keep circling the area, and eventually someone with a basket of groceries would pass by, and she would simply walk in the direction they had come from until she found—

“My lady? My lady!”

She turned, and there you were. Running down the street at full tilt, skirts billowing behind you, apron askew.

Her heart clenched, in fear and wanting. Why were you here? Was something wrong—? No, no, she had to play nonchalant, it wouldn’t do to be too concerned.

“Oh! G-good to see you. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Or anywhere. Or ever again.

You leaned on your knees, panting, as you came to a stop. “… e-excuse me, my lady. I ran all the way from the station, because I thought I saw your hat from above— and then it was your hat, and I was so excited to finally— to finally—“

“You… you were looking for me?” she said, nonplussed.

“Of course I was looking for you! The Palais hasn’t been the same without you, my lady. I— we all— understand if you need a vacation, of course, with the prophecy and the waters and whatnot, but I’m— we’re all— excited for when you—”

“Yes, yes, that’s all. I needed a solitary sojourn to refresh myself after the great… the…” She stopped. Those weren’t her words. Those were Furina de Fontaine, and that role had run its course.

“… actually, I won’t be coming back,” she continued, quietly. “You see, things are all set now. There’s no need for me.”

“I think there’s a great need for you, my lady!” you said immediately, still half out of breath. “Who else will sing in this year’s winter concert?”

It was absurd. Utterly farcical. And she found, for just a moment, she craved it so badly she was sick with wanting. It would be so simple, to step back into the role. So easy, so familiar. Sing at the winter concert. Sit at the trials. Pose for the fashion plates. The steps were already measured out, and she knew them all by heart.

“No,” she said, more firmly. “I won’t be singing in this winter’s concert, or next year’s concert, or ever again. I’m quite finished. I’m so glad to have seen you again, but I really must be going.”

And her ladyship smiled, and turned to go—

— but found her wrist seized in a desperate grip.

“Unhand— let me go—“ she said, struggling to pull her cuff out of your hand. “I think I’ve made myself quite clear! While I thank you for your efforts and attentions, they are no longer necessary!”

“No,” you said, stubborn still. You hung onto her sleeve with crab-like determination. “Who will wash your chemises? Who will warm the hot stones for your bed? Who will make sure you get a slice of 16-per-day cake? You can’t even get out of bed before noon!”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I can! Maybe I will! You don’t know— anything about me! You only know Furina de Fontaine and— I’m— not— her!” She finally wrenched her sleeve free, and stumbled back with the recoiled force. More softly, she continued, “You knew a little princess on a stage who ate cakes and slept late. You don’t know anything at all.”

Nevermind that it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to know; water filled any vessel.

“Wait— my lady—!”

Her ladyship turned and fled.

Were those your hands in her hair? Or another’s, a hundred years gone?

Was it your smile that made her chest ache— or another smile, faded around the edges, nameless now?

Did she miss you? Or did she miss someone else whose shape you were filling?

Did you miss her?

Did it make a difference?

Was it not enough to be wanted, to be missed?

Was there a difference between the glass and the water?

Did it matter if the glass had been empty from the start?

Shortly after the eighth bell the next morning, there was a knock at her door.

She rubbed the dried tears from her face, stumbled out of her narrow, squeaking bed, struggled into her undershirt, corset, and shirtwaist, attempted to put her hair in order, gave up, changed her mind, gave up again, and answered the insistent knocking before she could really think better of it.

It was you. Of course it was you.

“Wh—“

“Hello,” you answered brightly, a basket in your hands. “I’m—”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, pulling up as much imperiousness as she could manage with tangled hair and puffy eyes. “Didn’t I make myself perfectly clear yesterday? Was I not explicit?”

“Oh, perfectly,” you said, and your smile still made her chest ache. “You made yourself quite clear. I know nothing about you. We are to be strangers, but— how did that one poet write it? ‘Every friend was a stranger once’? Something like that. So! I’ve brought you a getting-to-know-you present.”

You unfolded the top of the basket, and inside there was an array of… breads? She didn’t recognize any of them, not a single one.

“You’re so stubborn,” she said, and felt tears sting her eyes again. “Why can’t you understand? I can’t be your lady anymore.”

You carefully folded the basket lid back, and set it aside. She noticed, finally, that you were not wearing your uniform anymore. She’d never seen you without it, couldn’t have imagined you wearing anything else— and somehow, inexplicably, that was a balm. Now there was a memory of you she could never mistake for anyone else.

“When my la— when you left,” you started slowly, fingers knitting together, “it was so… empty. The chamberlain said we could all stay on to keep the halls open for visitors, but it… it just… there wasn’t anyone to make emergency costumes for, anymore. Nobody to share my novels with. I could have stayed on, but… nobody needed a maid anymore. And I got to wondering if anybody had, you know, made sure you brought a winter coat, or a parasol, or—”

Needed. Nobody had needed. She knew what that felt like. She felt the pressure begin to build behind her eyes, and she swiped at them. “You don’t know the first thing about me…”

“So teach me, then,” you said, exasperated. “If I don’t know the first thing about you— teach me! I want to know!”

“What if I don’t know?” she sobbed, the words bursting out of her. “What if I don’t know the first thing about me?”

“Then— then we’ll learn together!” you said, as practical and stubborn as ever. As if it was that easy. As if it could be that easy. “I don’t know what troubles you, but I won’t let it trouble you alone.”

“Stupid,” she said, squeezing out tears, feeling her nose begin to run. Unmannerly, undignified, and unladylike. “Stupid! You’re so stupid!”

“I know,” you said, taking her face between your work-calloused hands. She didn’t resist. “And so are you! Running away without even a spare shirt! I can see the stains on your cuffs, you know!”

“Wh— I— why are you even looking at my cuffs!”

“It’s a maid’s job,” you said, thumb rubbing her cheek, wet with her tears, “to care about things like that for you.”

“Not anymore,” she said, suppressing an absurd giggle. “You’re not my maid anymore.”

“Well,” you said, and you were so close that she could feel the heat of you. “I suppose I must be somebody else, then.”

“I suppose you must,” she agreed.

Furina de Fontaine would never be caught dead kissing her (former) maidservant in the crumbling doorway of a third-rate apartment. It would have been deeply improper— the things the gossip columns would say!

It was a good thing she wasn’t Furina de Fontaine anymore.

If I was dead, and my bones adrift like dropped oars in the deep, turning earth;

I swear your love would raise me out of my grave, in my flesh and blood,

like Lazarus; hungry for this, and this, and this, your living kiss.

if I was dead, carol ann duffy (abridged; full version)

[sheepishfreeloader]

Roomies make tons of leftovers they never eat and buy fruits and cut veggies they also don’t eat which rot in the fridge

It’s all their food but they made it so it’s my partners “chore” to deal with their leftovers even though it’s literally all theirs

I try and discuss how maybe they can just do it since it’s all their food and we already take care of our own leftovers, I don’t see why we have to do theirs too since we make so little and they make so much

Instead of a waiting for a normal discussion after work, the one roomie who doesn’t work decides to get up early and stomp downstairs and slam doors and slam the garbage lid tossing out her and her partners nasty leftovers 😑

Girl no one told you you had to get up at 8am to stomp your butt downstairs and clean. We were literally just discussing changing the chore because it’s not working and our cooking situation changed earlier this year. If you wanna be mad be mad, it’s your own problem. Your going on your second vacation this year that your partner is 100% paying for and driving you to. Get over it. It’s a chore you should have been doing anyway instead of shoving it off on my partner 😑

I’ve been doing great this year not letting her bad attitude, inability to small talk normally with friends, and general crabbiness not get me too worked up like it did all the time last year. Pretending she doesn’t exist usually helps lmao, and since she pretty much just lives in the living room watching TV all day and we stopped eating her cooking several months ago she usually just blends in like she’s barely there. But god dang. Stomping and slamming shit like a child when someone asks her to take care of her rotten food? Incomprehensible. But I need to remember most of the time anger isn’t about you, it’s about things they’re going through being misdirected. My request and discussion is reasonable, but her explosive reaction is due to stress from her mother, having to pack, and doctors appointments, and doesn’t make what I asked any less normal. It’s a her problem.

“Can you take care of your rotten food, and maybe discuss changing the chore because you make a ton of leftovers and shouldn’t expect my fiancé to take care of our food AND your food” is NOT unreasonable. Her anger is not my problem. It is not my issue. I don’t have to let her emotional issues bleed into me or keep me from my own peace of mind.

If she wants to push off all the major chores on her already overworked husband, fine. They can suffer together.

If she wants to sit on the couch and binge watch TV and movies for 8 hours straight everyday in a windowless room, fine. She can let her brain rot and it’s not my business.

If she wants to make necklaces and clothes that she shows nobody but my fiancé and which sit in an already bursting closet because she doesn’t go anywhere, fine. It’s her husband’s money and his side of the closet thats bursting with her shit, and he doesn’t care.

If she wants to avoid all social contact with people and old friends in a discord because she didn’t get a joke 1 time and so “the server just isn’t for her,” fine. She can sit alone in her windowless room and forget how to talk like a normal human being, that's her prerogative.

I’m doing really well this year and she continues to flounder in her own pity. She used to be a great friend, I still lament our dead relationship where we would go to the store together and have really good long talks, back when she used to say she really admired and looked up to me.

And I know this all started when her father passed away nearly two years ago, but does that make her treatment of us any better? Does that make her continued disregard for her future self any healthier? Grief can really destroy a person. But no matter how much empathy or patience we’ve given her she continues to be this stubborn mass of nothingness. Either blending into the couch or exploding when push comes to shove because she’s gotten so out of practice with the world that she can barely function. But we are not therapists, and being her friend has also not helped her, so there’s nothing to do but prioritize ourselves now. We can’t stop our own lives for hers, even if we care… we cannot be doormats.

[myherowritings]

Hey There, Roomie

— After being set up on a bad date with Ushijima, he insists on walking you to your doorstep. Not wanting him to know where you live, you lead him to Iwaizumi’s apartment and pretend Iwaizumi is your roommate. 

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 4.0k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: mentions of drinking, language, secondhand embarrassment, suggestive comments at the end, oikawa is meddlesome, awkward but cute confessions™!!

a/n: ur bad date is with ushiwaka ok i’m sorry he’s a nice guy but i had to make it someone HDJSJS,, also this is based on real life events except my friend who lived in an apartment near me isn’t cute like iwa-chan :( LMAOOO i hope u enjoy reading!!! xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

“I assure you, you don’t have to walk me to my apartment.”

“It’s not a bother. I insist.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Although you tried to keep a smile on your face, you were certain it looked more like you were baring your teeth at him. “Really. You don’t have to do that.”

Ushijima shrugged. “I told you, it’s no big deal.” 

Your grin turned into a grimace as you stepped outside the car and headed towards your apartment complex. You managed to grit out, “Great. Thanks.”

A friend from your class had told you they had a friend of a friend who saw an Instagram post of you and thought you were cute. After they showed you a picture of him, you said the same. Little did you know it would lead to a mess of a date set up by said friend. 

The date was at a karaage chicken place and it was filled with the most uncomfortable silences you had sat through since office hours with a professor who you were sure hated you. Ushijima was nice enough and it wasn’t the worst date ever, but the two of you just did not click. You figured it was partly your fault for agreeing to meet with him despite not having a single clue about his interests and never having talked to him once, but it was too late to undo it now. 

He was a gentleman, at least. Offered to pay, held your seat out for you, drove you to your apartment complex, and, now, was trying to walk you to your doorstep. 

The thing was, you did not want him to know where you lived. 

You didn’t get red flags or feel threatened by any means, but having a guy you went on one uncomfortable date with know your exact address wasn’t really something that sat well with you. You’ve heard enough college horror stories to be wary. But, you didn’t have the heart to tell him explicitly not to walk you home… So the only solution? 

Head to your friend’s apartment in the same complex instead.

“Do you know where you’re going?” asked Ushijima, examining you as your eyes darted around from building to building. 

You’d been to Iwaizumi’s apartment before, but that didn’t stop you from looking lost and confused in this maze of houses. And it didn’t help to have Ushijima’s semi-condescending gaze on you the whole time. The worst part was, you were almost certain he didn’t even mean to be condescending— He just was. To you, at least. It definitely rubbed you the wrong way during the date. 

“Yeah,” you laughed, walking past your apartment, “of course I know where my own apartment is.” 

Iwaizumi’s place was just a few buildings north of yours, which you were quick to remember after catching sight of your place. You briefly wondered if he would be home on a Friday night, but quickly decided it wasn’t important. It’s not like you would be entering his house anyway. In fact, if all went well, he might never even know you were outside his apartment to begin with. 

The plan was to have Ushijima drop you off at the doorstep (since he so unwaveringly insisted that he had to and it was no trouble for him to do so), tell him goodbye, fumble with your bag to “look for your keys” as he walked off, then—when he was out of sight—dash to your apartment and lock yourself in your bedroom for the remainder of the night. 

A foolproof plan. 

“Well, we’re here!” you chirped, standing outside Iwaizumi’s door labeled 237E. You whirled around to face Ushijima. “Thanks for walking me. See you around!” 

“Of course.” He nodded but made no move to leave. 

Your smile wavered. Was he waiting for you to enter your house safely? If he didn’t seem so innocent, it would’ve been incredibly creepy. 

“Err,” you drawled, ruffling through your bag. “I’m just finding my keys. You can leave now; I don’t want to keep you any longer!” 

“It’s not a problem.”

Your right eye twitched. What did he think could possibly happen in the time it took you to unlock your door and enter? While it was sweet—in a very suffocating way—it wasn’t what you wanted. After the bad date that was disappointing for the both of you, you expected him to eat his food and dip. Not see you all the way into your house despite the fact that, deep down, he’d much rather be in his own home. It was domineeringly kind.

Didn’t he understand how stressful this could be for someone? His obliviousness was overbearing, but you supposed you couldn’t blame Ushijima when you didn’t verbalize your discomfort to him. 

“Everything okay?” he asked for what felt like the fifth time that night. 

You chuckled nervously. “I guess I…can’t find my keys?” Looking at him sheepishly, you scratched the back of your head. “But, my roommates will probably be home soon! Or, they might be here now. I’ll just ring the doorbell when you leave!” 

Ushijima blinked. “Why not ring the doorbell now?” 

“R-Right,” you stammered, unsure whether you wanted to rip your hair out or cry in frustration. Maybe both would be good. “That’s smart. I can do that.” 

He looked at you expectantly. 

You winced, bringing your pointer finger to the white button of the doorbell. Before you even had the time to gather the courage to press it, the door swung open suddenly, startling you enough to let out a small yelp.

“Ah—! Iwaizumi!” you cried, eyes wide as you stared face to face with your very confused-looking friend. He glanced between you and Ushijima with a questioning expression, but you rambled on before he could say anything. “Hey there, roomie!” You batted your lashes, pleading with him to play along. “I forgot my keys again.” 

Iwaizumi’s face displayed a look of pure confusion and you were certain he must never have gotten any acting awards when he was younger. His expression became even more puzzled when you wiggled your way inside the door, standing snugly next to his side. 

After an awkward silence, you continued again, “Well, thanks for walking me Ushijima-san! And thank you for the date. Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

If he noticed anything suspicious going on, he didn’t show it. Instead he simply nodded and wished you a goodnight. 

Yup, there was definitely no chance of Ushijima wanting to ask you out on a second date. Not that you were complaining. 

You shut the door—the door to an apartment that wasn’t even your own, mind you—and let out a sigh of relief. With your eyes closed and your back resting against the wall, you momentarily forgot you were standing in the entrance of Iwaizumi’s living room. That was, until you started feeling his heavy gaze on you. 

Gulping at the intensity, you cracked your right eye open ever so slightly. “Yes?” you asked innocently.

“Yes?” repeated Iwaizumi incredulously, voice raised in exasperation. “You want to explain what just happened here?” 

You had a sudden interest in your shoes as you shuffled in place. Iwaizumi was your friend and someone you considered yourself semi-close to— Comfortable enough to hang out with regularly and talk with almost every day, but not someone that you confided in with no qualms. And definitely not someone close enough for it to be normal to show up at his place unannounced. You were much closer to his best friend, Oikawa, but that was largely due to him finding out you had a big crush on Iwaizumi a number of months ago and feeling the need to tease you endlessly. Apparently, nothing brought people together like relentless goading. 

“Another bad date,” you answered with a noncommittal tone. “A friend set me up with that guy you saw, Ushijima, and the date was so awkward.” 

He folded his arms across his chest, pulling his white t-shirt snug around his biceps. You tried not to let your eyes bug out of their sockets at the sight. “And yet you let him bring you home?” 

“I couldn’t say no! I tried dropping hints but he just didn’t get it.” You looked up, a sheepish half-smile on your face. “But I was smart enough not to bring him to my apartment. Hence why I came here. Roomie.”

Iwaizumi let out an exasperated half-chuckle, half-sigh as he motioned for you to come further inside. You slipped off your shoes at the doorway and followed him into the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to him. He rested his arm against the headrest of the sofa and you were consciously aware of his hand mere inches behind your head. 

“Are your other housemates here?” you asked, curious as to why there wasn’t the usual amount of chatter and rage gaming from inside their respective rooms. 

He shook his head. “They’re all back at their hometowns for the weekend.” 

“And poor Iwa-chan is home all alone on a Friday night instead of out partying with friends?” you teased, reaching over to pat the top of his head mockingly. 

Glaring at you for the nickname, he lightly swatted your hand away. “You’ve been spending too much time with Oikawa. His shittyness is rubbing off on you.” There was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice to let you know he was only joking. “And being home alone is better than being stuck with a bad date.”

“Ouch,” you cried, crossing one leg over the other and sticking your tongue out at him. “Yeah, sure, I would rather have been curled up in my bed than go on that date— But you didn’t have to call me out like that.” You pouted. “At least I got free food, I guess.” 

He rolled his eyes with a snort. “If you were uncomfortable, you could’ve called me to come pick you up.”

Despite his gruff voice, there was a look of concern on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of his mouth were downturned. Iwaizumi’s offer made you feel warm in the stomach, even if you were sure he was just saying it out of courtesy.

“Or better yet,” he continued in a murmur, “don’t let your friends set you up on dates with guys you barely know, dumbass.” 

“Hey! Aren’t you and Oikawa the ones always telling me I need to go out and date more in the first place?” you said, huffing at his insult. 

They told you your college years were your prime dating years and you might regret not going out with a variety of people now. When else would you have the free time and the patience to date, anyway? That was part of the reason you agreed to blind dates and set ups, after all. If Iwaizumi was insisting you date around, that most certainly meant he didn’t reciprocate your feelings for him. Meaning, you had to get over him somehow before the hurt could kick in, even if that somehow included less than ideal fraternization. 

“I never said that,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Why would I tell you to go on dates with other people? It was just Oikawa who said you should.” 

You blinked in confusion. “But you were there and you nodded in agreement.” 

He shifted his body to get a better look at you, a scowl on his face. “I did not. You were drunk and you probably thought my head was moving when it wasn’t.”

“Well, you were drunk too! Maybe your head was moving and you just didn’t know.” The lines between his forehead deepened and you laughed, unable to stop yourself from tapping the wrinkles with your ring finger. “Don’t think too hard; you might hurt your brain.”

“You really have been spending too much time with Shittykawa,” he said with a defeated sigh. “But whatever you think I said back then, it’s probably not what I meant. You shouldn’t date anyone unless you want to.” 

The thing was, you did want to date someone. Iwaizumi. You were just under the impression he didn’t want to date you. 

You shrugged. “What about you? Have you been dating people you don’t want to?” 

He shook his head. “No. I haven’t dated anyone recently,” he admitted, averting his gaze from you for the first time that night. “I actually...am interested in someone, though.” 

Your stomach dropped. Oh.

“But I don’t think they like me.” 

Trying not to show him the crestfallen expression on your face, you looked down at your lap. You had been mentally preparing yourself to accept that Iwaizumi didn’t have a crush on you like you had on him—you were ready to face the harsh reality—but you were not expecting him to tell you he liked someone else on top of that. That was just a double blow to your gut.

You forced out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound too strained. “That’s silly. Of course they like you.” 

“I didn’t even tell you who it was.”

“Don’t need to,” you said diffidently, fingers toying with a loose thread on the blue sofa. “I already know. There’s no way someone wouldn’t like you back.”

Iwaizumi snorted disdainfully. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Them going on dates with other people and telling me about them after seems to be a solid indicator that they don’t.”

You froze, letting go of the string you accidentally pulled from the couch. Now, you wouldn’t say you were an overly optimistic person, but you still couldn’t help but think the situation he described was oddly familiar to yours. There was a large chance he was referring to someone else, but with the way you felt his smoldering gaze on your body, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could be talking about you. 

“Maybe they think you don’t like them so they’re going on those dates to get rid of their crush on you— But only because they thought you told them to do so! And, honestly, the dates probably aren’t helping at all on getting rid of the crush; it just makes it get even bigger and bigger as they realize they can’t like anyone the same way they like you and now they don’t know what to do,” you babbled, unable to stop the word vomit.

After processing the words that you had just uttered, you slapped your hands over your mouth to shut yourself up. That was a little more than you had originally wanted to say… Okay, a lot more. You winced. You wanted to subtly hint that you were talking about yourself, not be so obvious as to yell it out with a megaphone and have a blinking billboard pointing your way. 

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

You could only hope Iwaizumi was oblivious enough to let this whole thing go and assume that you were only speaking hypothetically. But he was smarter than that. You knew it. He may be a little dense when it came to romance, but even he couldn’t be dumb enough to misunderstand your conspicuous slip up. 

Your stomach churned as you awaited his response.

“So,” he spoke slowly, keeping his cautious regard on you, “Oikawa was right?” 

You blinked. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. But things just didn’t seem to go as planned today, you supposed. “What do you mean?”

“You do like me, then?”

“W-What? When did…” You gaped, trailing off as your throat tightened. “He told you that?” 

“A month ago, he told me he thought you might like me,” Iwaizumi admitted, a rosy red darkening the apples of his cheeks. “But that was before you started going on those crazy dates, so I figured he was wrong.” 

A cry of indignation escaped your lips as you heard the news. “Seriously?”

He nodded.

“No way!” you sputtered in disbelief. “He found out I liked you months ago— At the beginning of the school year! And then last month, Oikawa told me I should to get over you by going on a bunch of dates.” 

Your brows were furrowed and arms folded as you glared into the sky, wishing Oikawa were there so you could yell at him for making a fool of you. Iwaizumi caught your gaze with a disgruntled look of his own. 

“What on earth?” you groaned, burying your face in your palms.

“I’ll kick his ass the next time I see him,” Iwaizumi vowed.

“Please,” you muttered, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. 

Oikawa knew you had a crush on Iwaizumi. Why would he tell him behind your back? And was Iwaizumi’s response negative? Is that why Oikawa told you to date to get over him? Trying to understand Oikawa’s thought process was enough to almost give you a headache. 

“But, wait,” said Iwaizumi quietly, effectively interrupting your train of thoughts. “Months?” 

You peeked at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Huh?”

“You said you liked me for months now? Since the start of this school year?” 

The heat rose to your cheeks in embarrassment. “T-That’s not the point—!” 

“Because I’ve liked you for a few months now too,” he interrupted before you could deny anything. Your eyes shot open as you stared straight at Iwaizumi, just now noticing the serious expression on his face. 

Was this a confession?

“Ever since that night we ditched our friends to stay inside and watch Godzilla instead of going to the party.” He shared a small, slightly sheepish smile with you as he recalled the memory. 

In the beginning of the year before classes had started but everyone had already moved into their respective apartments, Oikawa decided everyday of the week leading up to the first day of school would be a good day to get shit-faced drunk. It was fun for the first three days, but by day four you were getting worn out, and by day five, just the thought of consuming one more jello shot made you shudder. 

So when Iwaizumi—who you had then only recently realized you had a crush on—suggested you two sneak away to his empty apartment and watch some movies instead, you were more than happy to oblige. 

“I thought you looked...cute that night,” Iwaizumi managed, his voice gruff and tentative. “It was funny how you were scared by the movies even though it was hardly even horror.” He snorted at the recollection, hints of a grin playing on his face. “And I may have realized then that I had already started liking you.”

You bit the inside of your lip to keep your face from splitting into a beam. Your eyes were wide open, almost as if you were in a daze and were only dreaming the events of this night had happened. Iwaizumi shoved his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets, ducking his head to hide his delight at this situation.

“You like me too?” you asked breathlessly. There was still a tone of disbelief in your voice. 

He nodded. “Have for a while now. But I didn’t tell Oikawa about it until last month. And that’s when he said he thought you liked me back.” 

At his words, you visibly relaxed. So Oikawa didn’t blab about your crush on his best friend— Though, in all honesty, maybe if he had, you could’ve had a relationship with him sooner. You leaned your head back against the headrest of the couch with a sigh. “Then if he knew you liked me, why did he tell me to date other people that night we were all out drinking together?” 

“To piss me the fuck off.”

You laughed in surprise, not expecting Iwaizumi to sound so furious. 

“He probably wanted to get me to disagree with him, that dumbass,” he hissed, a scowl forming on his face. Even with his nose scrunched and forehead crinkled, you thought Iwaizumi was as handsome as ever.

“Maybe Oikawa thought you wouldn’t confess without his help so he wanted to push your buttons and make you jealous by seeing me date other people,” you said, chuckling at the audacity of this situation. 

Iwaizumi apparently didn’t share your amusement, since his scowl deepened. “I would’ve confessed without his unwanted help,” he grunted. But you knew he wasn’t too annoyed by his best friend. Oikawa never had any ill-intentions towards the two of you, and you both were aware of that. “I was a little jealous, though,” he admitted with flushed cheeks. “And I may have gotten a bit happier every time you told me afterwards that you didn’t like your date—especially tonight.”

You smiled shyly at him, only mildly embarrassed by the routine you two had picked up. Go on a date (usually prompted by Oikawa), wish your date was Iwaizumi the whole time, go home, message Iwaizumi about your bad date, repeat. But in today’s case, you went to him in person instead of texting. 

“But I was dreading that one night you’d message saying your date went well,” he said, hands balled up into fists and gaze downcast. “Or worse— Not message that night at all.”

Your expression turned somber as you realized that while you were casually dating around to try to get over Iwaizumi, he was there watching you go out with other people. A feeling of guilt spread through you as you bowed your head slightly, wishing you had taken the chance to tell him your feelings instead of trying to toss them aside. 

“Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t even think about how it could be affecting you.” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He placed his closed hand on the top of your head, making you look up at him. He nodded once. “You didn’t know. And Assikawa was the one pushing you to go on dates you didn’t want,” he said wryly, though his tone was more amused than bitter. “But maybe now you don’t have to keep going on those bad dates anymore.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he offering—?

“Y’know,” he said, “if you… If we…”

“Went on a date?” you completed, hesitant but hopeful. “With each other, I mean.”

“Yes. With each other.” He held his breath. “What do you think?”

After a beat of silence, your face split into a grin. You practically jumped off the couch in excitement, bouncing towards Iwaizumi to tackle him into a hug. He let out a surprised grunt, but caught you in his arms nonetheless.  

“I think you could’ve saved me loads of wasted nights if you had asked a month earlier!” you laughed, burrowing your face into his chest— His very strong, very muscular chest that had no business being this comfortable. “To think all this time I could’ve been going on dates with you instead of random people I end up blocking a day after?”

His right hand rested between your shoulder blades while his left was lightly cupping the back of your head. He chuckled and you felt the vibrations through his thin t-shirt. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to make up for it now,” he said, voice warm and inviting. “We can catch up on dates this whole weekend. Or just rewatch all of Godzilla again.” 

“That sounds like the perfect date weekend.” The grin on your face never left as you stayed tangled in his arms. “And your roommates aren’t back until Monday, hmm?”

He titled his head down at you to see your expression, the corner of his mouth quirked upward as he smirked. “Yup. They’ll be gone all weekend.”

You two exchanged knowing looks, causing you to wiggle your eyebrows suggestively and make him laugh. His ears turned red and when you pointed it out he got even redder. You smiled at each other as you held him even tighter. 

It didn’t matter what you two would be doing this weekend. All you cared about was getting to spend more time with Iwaizumi.

“Then we most definitely have a lot of catching up to do.” 

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

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You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[mypoisonedvine]

A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

happy birthday @nsfwsebbie​!!

it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though!  I hope the suspense pays off.  

idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right??  the other half of the fun is the obvious thing.  and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday.  and i hope it makes you h word lmao.  ily darling <3

warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.

word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)

Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you.  It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had.  Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.

“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.

“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile.  God, he loved when you called him that.  He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways.  “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones.  I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”

“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.

“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled.  He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it.  That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide.  Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.

“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good.  A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.

“If you say so.”

“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.

“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.

“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed.  “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch.  Is there anything else going on?”

He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it.  “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”

“Nightmares?” you pressed.  “Or general insomnia?”

“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal.  The meds helped.  Just… I still get them sometimes.”

“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked.  But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion.  That was what really made his heart melt.

“Probably 2 or 3.”

“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good.  That’s progress.  But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks.  You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”

He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.

“Bucky!” you scolded playfully.  “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay?  I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it.  Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”

He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all.  But he’d stay on them if it made you happy.

“Anything else?  Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”

He laughed and shook his head.  “No, I think that’s everything.”

“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.”  You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs.  “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”

He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”

He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal.  Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.  

“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.  

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.  

Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore.  Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.

~

The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell.  It didn’t smell like your room.  Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.

You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in.  The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.  

It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost.  There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either.  Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.

You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”

As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right.  He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused.  And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.

“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately.  Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.

You didn’t exactly believe that.  

“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.

“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”

Your heart sank straight through your stomach.  You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.”  You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.

“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine.  I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore.  You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore.  “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough.  Couldn’t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”

You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing.  “This is insane.  This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”

“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”

“See?  That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills.  “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know.  But you couldn’t.  And now you don’t have to.”

You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation.  You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.

You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly.  He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.

“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed.  You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine.  “This all for me?  Do you like being tied up?”

You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.

“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”

It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though.  You nodded.

“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.

“N-no,” you answered.

“Answer honestly,” he specified.

You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”

“That’s it?” he pressed.  “It’s not me being here, is it?  You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”

This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.  It seemed like there was no right answer.

“Didja ever get wet for somebody else?  It was Steve, wasn’t it?”

“No!” you instinctively answered.  “Um, I like Steve.  But just as a friend.”

“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type.  Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend?  I think you were lying then too, doll.  You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced.  “I’m getting irritated.”

You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.

“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts.  “Sass does not.”

You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too.  Soothed the burn a bit, at least.

“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…”  You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes.  “Baby, are you a virgin?”

You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth.  In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.

“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned.  “You really are too good to be true.”

A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.  

“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed.  “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then why did you tie me up?”

“That’s for your safety, baby.  I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.

A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second.  You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy.  His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!

“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted.  You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern.  “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry.  Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

That word made you feel a little sick.  No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.

Then again, it was Bucky Barnes.  He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes.  You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.  

His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much.  You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.

“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged.  “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.  I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”

You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”

Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life.  You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.  

Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.

“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”

“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples.  The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.

“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it.  Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”

“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”

“And now we’re both getting what we want.  I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours.  Doesn’t it feel good baby?  Admit it.  Tell me it feels good.”

You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made.  He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react.  One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.

“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it.  I just need you to say it.”

One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses.  “It feels good!” you exclaimed.  You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked.  “Say it again.”

“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.

He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile.  “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.  

“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore.  My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that.  You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”

You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful.  You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.

“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.

“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”

He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Of course he was big.  It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.

“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly.  He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.  

“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me.  Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”

You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing.  A little of both, perhaps.

He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds.  You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’  This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.

“Ready for me, baby?  Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability.  Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”

“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned.  “This is it, okay?  Us.  Just us.  Nobody else to get in the way.  You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”

“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”

“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled.  “Stop fighting.  You’re mine.  You’re finally where you belong.”

“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”

“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen.  “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again.  If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”

“You need intensive psychiatric care!”

Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.

“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle.  I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”

Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.

“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”

Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed.  You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid.  It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot.  You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.

“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.

“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him.  “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”

But he was long gone.  The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief.  Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.

Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water.  You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.

It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him.  You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.

Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.

He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you.  You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.

“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done.  You were behaving so poorly.  I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.  

When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan.  He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.

“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours.  “Are you going to be good, little girl?”

You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply.  You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was.  You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.  

“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek.  You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you.  He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar.  It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like.  He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes.  “Kiss me back,” he demanded.  This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate.  You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.

You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race.  One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.  

As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.

Physically, it wasn’t painful.  The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit.  And yet, even without pain it was so much.  You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.  

When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were.  But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.  

“Fuck!” you yelped.  You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.  

“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe.  “You promised to be good, remember?”

The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.  

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged.  “It’s okay to come, baby.  I know how bad you wanna come for me.”

You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long.  You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too.  Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.  

“Are you close?  I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you?  Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”

Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”

Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak.  You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.

“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled.  “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”

You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way.  This is what you had wanted, right?  Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?

“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”

“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged.  “Come, princess.  I wantcha to scream for me.”

As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name.  His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind.  He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.  

You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.

“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl.  You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”

You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.

“I’m gonna untie you now, okay?  Promise you won’t kick me or anything?” 

You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied.  “You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle.  The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots.  You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands.  It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous.  ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’  

~

Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week.  Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times.  He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise.  You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it.  Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere.  When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.  

“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained.  “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves.  Nobody for miles.”

“How many miles?”

He chuckled a bit to himself.  “Baby, it’s a really big number.  You’re too little to understand.”

Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up.  Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.

“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet.  I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.

“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.  

“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.

“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils?  Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump.  “Don’t talk back to me.”  

“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”

“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened.  That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet.  “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”

“I’m hungry,” you denied.  “Please, I want to eat.”

“And I want to eat with you.  But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll.  Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”

“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed.  He smiled and sat down across from you.  You were learning.  Slowly, but surely.

Bath time was always a fight, though.  You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.

“I can do it myself!”

“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”

“I want to.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”

“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?” “No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you.  Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart.  He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.

“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him.  “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed.  “I just want to take a shower, alone.”

“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced.  “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”

Your shoulders slumped as you nodded.  He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin.  He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you.  It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.  

He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time.  Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.

He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful.  He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing.  A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.

“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay?  I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.  

“Really?” your face instantly lit up.  Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control.  Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.

“Of course.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.

He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.    

You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.

"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him.  Oh, right.  You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you.  Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it.  After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you.  You just needed clothes to match.

“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.

“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration.  “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”

You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him.  He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.

“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.

Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat.  Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.

He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable.  A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.  

Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.

“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.

“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.

“Do you want the clothes?” 

“Shut up.”

He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.

It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.

~

This fucker was smart, you’d give him that.  Or maybe it was just that you were stupid.  Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation.  Why had you chosen this hill to die on?  You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all.  You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes.  Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.

Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself.  You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before.  You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt.  You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?

“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.

“Hm?”

“I want… I want the c-clothes.”

He smiled a little, in an insulting way.  “Ask nicely, doll.”

“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up.  You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.  

He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them.  He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump.  He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt.  It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows.  You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him.  You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.

You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow.  It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now.  He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.  

“Is this better?  Are you warmer?”

“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.  

“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment.  You felt colder with him gone.  It couldn’t be loneliness, could it?  Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.

He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet.  You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.

“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms.  You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.

You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist.  Then your hip, then your thigh.

Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.

You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.

You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh.  You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.

“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.

“Where, baby?”

“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.

“You need Daddy’s help?”

“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.

In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.

You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop.  It felt so good.  It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.  

He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck.  If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers.  He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.  

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.  

“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered.  You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.

Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.

“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock.  “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded.  He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you.  Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down.  You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.

“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”

“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”

“But--” 

He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.

All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.

“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.

“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered.  “I’ll do anything.  I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”

With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow.  Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.  

“Anything?  You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”

“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged.  Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.

He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite.  “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.”  You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.

“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.

“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”

You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be.  Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.

When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine.  “I know what I want you to do for me.”

You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes.  It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked.  Of course that was what he wanted.  But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him.  He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.  He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.

“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”

“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”

“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face. 

“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you.  Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.

He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little.  When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed.  “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”

“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek.  He wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be.  You’re finally where you belong, with me.”

You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening.  Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long.  You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you.  For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved.  The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before.  As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.

~

He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time.  But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring.  At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming.  And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.

He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not.  It was sort of a win-win either way for him.  He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up.  Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.

“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room.  This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.

One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver.  He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin.  Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.

Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you.  If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you.  Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.

“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.

He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him.  “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.  

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.

“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.

“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you?  It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”

He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you.  He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.

“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not.  “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”

“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.

“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.  

“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted.  A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that.  Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away.  Both of you knew that.  So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat.  What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.

“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.

“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.

He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear.  “Was he fucking you?”

You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on.  He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit.  “Be honest, darling.”

“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”

As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that.  Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.

“Is that what you want, huh?  One cock isn’t good enough for you?  Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”

“‘M not!” you denied.

“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you?  Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you.  That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”

You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there.  You sounded like heaven.  He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion.  You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.  

“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you?  Of course you do.  ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”

“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it.  Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”

“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”

“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”

“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come!  It feels so good, please…”

“Keep going.”

“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”

“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”

He knew you were flustered by that.

“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.

“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned.  “Just how I said it.”

“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”

You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to.  He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.

“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.

Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky.  Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off.  He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.

~

You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails.  But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.

“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse.  It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too.  Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.

They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest.  You admired them a little, as they dried.  It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood.  The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone. 

“What do you say?” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled.  “It looks nice.”

“You’re welcome, angel.  I think so too.  We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”

You swallowed.  You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.

Next was your hair.  Pigtails, the way he always did it.  You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role.  He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about.  In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.

After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly.  You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.

“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently.  “Barely fit around it.”

“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.

“You flatter me,” he grinned.  “Do it some more.”

You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him.  “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”

“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.

“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”

He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.

“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to.  “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”

He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.

“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled.  “Do I need to wash it out with soap?” 

You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much.  His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming.  The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.  

He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead.  “I can tell you’re worked up.  Go ahead, touch yourself.”

You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.   

You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive.  You hadn't realized how turned on you really were.  Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well.  You nodded quickly.  "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one.  Beg me for it."

"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please.  Wanna be covered in it."

"You're not a good liar," he grinned.  "I know you really want me to fuck you."

He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.

"You poor thing," he cooed.  "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."

His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.

"You're getting close, aren't you?  Wait until I'm ready," he ordered.  You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.  

He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably.  You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.

"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face.  "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"

You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes.  Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.  

When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.

"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."

A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.  

"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.

Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.

~

He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter.  Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.  

Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working.  He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold.  You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night.  He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much…  you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could.  However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours.  As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room.  At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you.  His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?

But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs.  You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.

“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.

“I-- I was just--”

He cut you off with a quick slap to the face.  Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.

“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission.  Did you forget?”

“No…” you murmured ashamedly.

“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

“I… I just missed you…”

“Why didn’t you call me for help?  I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”

“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit.  “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself.  Did you come without me?”

You looked away.

“Don’t bother lying.  Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”

“Yes…” 

You were hiding something.  He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.

“Was it more than once?”

You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly.  He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of.  “Answer me.”

“I was thinking about… being fucked…”

“By who?” he asked.  You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off.  “Don’t lie.”

You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper.  “What was that?” he pressed.

“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”

He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.  

“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly.  You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.  

He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little.  He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry.  But he needed to nip this in the bud.

He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered.  Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain.  You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.

“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock.  He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.

As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.  

“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly.  Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips.  He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.

As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again.  He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek.  He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.

“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.

Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well.  He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.

The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that.  It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly.  “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.”  And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.

He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.  

“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat.  You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”

He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”

He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.  

He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey.  He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it.  Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.

When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve.  You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.

He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.

“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged.  “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He wagged his finger disapprovingly.  “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.

“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear.  “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock.  Isn’t that right?”

You nodded with a gasp.

“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you?  Say it," he hissed in demand.

“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.

“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”

You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience.  You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you.  As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.

You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.

“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.

“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”

One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped.  “D-daddy, not there!”

“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.

“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained.  “I know what you can handle, doll.”

“And I can handle this?”

“I never said that.”

And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.

“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.  

“It hurts!” you sobbed.

“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it.  This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”

You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic.  “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize.  Right now you just need to be quiet.  Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”

“Y-yes.”

He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.  

“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.

“You wanna get it over with?  Don’t like it?”

You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.

“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll.  Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”

You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock.  He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.

“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed.  “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”

He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm.  Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust.  Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way.  It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.

“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised.  “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”

Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were.  “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched.  You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice.  He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too.  He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him.  You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.

The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back.  You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.

His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.

But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore.  His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.

“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed.  “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you!  I only want you, I swear!”

“You sure, baby?  You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked.  Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did.  Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.

“I’m sure!  I only want you, please!  Please, please come.”

“Is that what you want, angel?  Want me to come in your tight little ass?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please…?”

“Please, Daddy.”

And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night.  You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.

You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.  

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss.  “You did good, baby.  You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever.  You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”

~

Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:

Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon.  When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.

You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband.  The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it.  The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back.  On the back of the tag was another engraving:

IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES

You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.

Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for.  You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).

He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.

“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.

Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward.  You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.  “This is stupid.  I feel stupid.”

“You are stupid," he smiled.  "But you look great!  Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”

Your eyes went wide.

“You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer.  You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly.  When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass.  It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.

“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised.  “And the ears… you’re a natural.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.

"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed.  You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.

When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was.  Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.

"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.

You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned.  “Just like that, fuck.”

You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue.  You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently.  Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.  

He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.

You shook your head.  

He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond.  “Where do you want it?” 

“In my pussy.”

“Full sentences only, please.”

“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled.  “But I have something else to do first.  Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”

You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again.  As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin.  You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds.  Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.

"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.

"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes.  Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm.  You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.

That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.

He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.

“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him.  The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it.  You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you.  You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away.  You’re gonna take all of me.”

“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.

“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained.  “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”

You nodded and he eased up his grip.  You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again.  You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time.  You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.

You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.

"Oh kitty, are you too weak?  Too wimpy and small to ride my cock?  Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted.  "I'm just tired…"

"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay?  I know you can do it.  I know you can be a good girl."

You hoped he was right.  You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.

Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you.  Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck.  When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.

“Only bad kittens bite, doll.  I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”

“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby.  Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come.  That what you want?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”

He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls.  Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you. 

As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly.  "You really are perfect, pet."

"C-can I take off the ears now?  And the tail?"

"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."

~

He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in here!" he ordered you.  "Wait for me at the dining table."

"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall.  He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.

"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained.  "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.

Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.

He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction.  Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.   "Um, I made it myself.  Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"

"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed.  "What's the occasion?"

"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well.  The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant.  He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.

"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.

"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."

The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.

"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."

He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise.  And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.

So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch.  He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.

God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.

"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly.  He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.

"Are you horny, babygirl?  Because you're acting like a whore."

You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.

"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.

"Yes, please!" you begged.

He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.

“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.

“Want me to knock you up, doll?  Right now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face  “I don’t want it to be like the other times.  None of the crazy shit, nothing rough.  If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”

“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.

He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow.  “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.  

“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.

He was gentle, and thorough, and patient.  It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him.  He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.

My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.

You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.  

The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds.  The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him.  The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.

“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”

He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close.  You feel so good.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.

“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.

He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.

“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”

“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”

“Not until you come one more time,” he responded.  You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible.  “I know you can, just gimme one more.”

His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone.  Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall.  He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.

“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close.  Just let go.  I’ve got you.”

Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence.  He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.  

"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before.  Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense.  Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day.  But now?  Now it was the beginning of something.  His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby.  He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.  

He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.

He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children.  He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.

You were well worth the wait.

[afeb]

Fred Weasley - Lover

“Why do I have to go this?” I asked again, wincing down at the small bottle of pink liquid in front of me.

“Because you owe us a favour for not ratting you out to Snape for cheating on your test last week.” George said. “And we need someone to test our Love Potion.”

“Now remember you’ll be obsessed with the next person you look at for twenty-four hours, so look at me.” Fred said.

I rolled my eyes. “It won’t kill me, will it?” I warily asked, bringing it to my nose and sniffing.

“Don’t worry, I was very careful.” George said. “Now bottoms up.”

I groaned and pinched my eyes closed, bringing to the rim of the bottle to my lips and quickly gulping the liquid. It tasted incredibly sweet, so much so it made my jaw twinge in pain. I pulled back and groaned, rubbing my jaw.

“You okay?” I heard Fred ask.

“Yeah I’m...” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Fine.”

“Has it worked?” He asked.

“Yeah...” I whispered.

I’d never noticed how utterly handsome he was. His cheekbones were sculpted into his face, his nose strong, his jawline so sharp it could cut. His eyes were a deep blue, long hair sweeping in the most beautiful shade of red. He was tall, and built, presumably from all the Quidditch he played. Not only that but he was smart, and funny. Why hadn’t I noticed him before?

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer there.” George joked, pushing his brother lightly.

“You’re so good-looking.” I gasped, falling into Fred chest as I peered up at him. “And so funny and smart and kind.”

“Woah there.” Fred caught me, smiling down at me. “Easy Tiger.”

I giggled. “I never noticed you before, why?” I wondered aloud.

“No clue.” Fred replied.

“Come on, let’s get her to bed.” George said, gathering up my school books.

I practically hung off Fred’s arm on the way to the dormitory. “You smell so good.” I sighed, pressing my cheek against his shoulder.

“Jesus Georgie, how strong did you make this thing?” Fred asked.

George stifled a laugh. “I’ll dampen it a bit.”

I dreamily gazed up at Fred as he muttered the password to the Common Room, leading me inside. Everyone turned to look at us with an odd expression as Fred led me through the busy room. George broke off to go talk to some friends, whilst Fred took care of me.

Once inside my dorm, he sat me on the bed and stood before me. “I didn’t think it would work this well.”

I grabbed his hand. “Your hands are so big! God, you look so strong.” I complimented.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hermione asked, sitting up from her slouched position.

“Love Potion, George and I were testing it.” Fred chuckled down at me. “Tomorrow you won’t feel the same way.”

“But I love you!” I screeched, standing up and immediately wrapping my arms around him. “I could never fall out of love with you, Freddie!”

He laughed loudly and placed me back on the bed. “Keep an eye on her would you?” He said to Hermione who nodded along. “Night Y/N.”

“Night Freddie.” I sighed, smiling up at him brightly. I watched him leave before I collapsed onto the bed. “Hermione, I’m in love!”

She giggled a little. “It’s a Love Potion.”

I sat up quickly. “Is not! You know I had a huge crush on him before this.” I sighed.

I got ready for bed, babbling on about Fred and how wonderful he was. It was nearing midnight and all the girls were tucked away in bed, while my mind was still racing.

“Do you think he loves me back?” I asked out loud.

A chorus of groans filled the room. “Would you be quiet! You’ve been talking about him for hours.” Lavender said.

I sat up. “He’s so amazing though! Him and George have this great idea to open up a jokes shop and I really believe that he can make it and-“

“That’s it!” Hermione jumped out of bed, pulling the covers off my body. “We’re going to see Fred.”

I immediately jumped out. “You’re such a good friend, taking me to see the man I’m in love with!”

I wrapped my arm around my shoulder as Hermione quickly walked to the boys dorm. She banged loudly, for a long time.

“Fred Weasley, you get out here this instant!” She yelled.

Fred swung open the door with just pyjama bottoms on, rubbing his eyes and looking down at us. “It’s midnight, what the hell are you doing?”

Hermione stepped aside and Fred and I looked at one another. “Hi Freddie.” I dreamily sighed.

“She won’t shut up about you, so you’re going to deal with her for the night.” Hermione crossed her arms.

“She can’t sleep in here!” He defended.

“Not my problem.” Hermione grabbed my arm and pushed me into Fred’s chest, storming away.

“I guess we’re roomies for the night.” I winked.

“Oh god...” Fred sighed. “Stay here.”

I did as I was told and waited patiently for him to come back. He soon did, with a thick jumper and white trainers on, grabbing my hand.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I was tugged through the Common Room.

“The library,” he said. “There’s got to be something in there about breaking this damn spell.”

I followed after him, hand still clutched in mine. “I love you Fred, have I told you that? You’re just the best guy I’ve ever met and-“

Suddenly a hand came over my mouth and I was pushed against the wall, Fred craning his neck to peer behind the corner. Seconds later Feltch passed us, frowning before shrugging and going back in the direction he came.

Fred looked down at me. “Promise you’ll be quiet.” He whispered.

I nodded and Fred removed his hand. “I’d do anything for you, Fred.”

He rolled his eyes and tugged me behind him again. Once we successfully snuck into the library, Fred led us through the winding bookcases, picking up various books as we walked.

“Can I talk now?” I whispered.

“Quietly.” He whispered back, skimming over the pages.

“Do you love me back?” I asked, propping myself up on the side table next to Fred.

“Of course I do.” He mumbled, flicking to the next page.

“No, like are you in love with me.” I giggled.

He looked at me. “Y/N, you aren’t in love with me.” He said.

I frowned and pouted my lips. “Yes I am!” I squeaked.

“Shh!” He hissed.

I blushed. “I am in love with you, I was before this stupid potion.”

He stopped reading and snapped his eyes to me. “What?”

I snorted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know, I have a huge crush on you!”

“You do?” I nodded. “Why?”

“Because you’re smart and funny, and handsome, and you smell amazing and you’re so strong and-“

“Forget I asked.” He said, turning back to the book.

I looked down at my hands. “You’d never go for a girl like me.” I muttered.

“Why would you say that?” He asked, grabbing another book and quickly reading.

I sighed heavily. “Because I’m awkward and you’re so cool. I’m not nearly as smart as you, I feel like you get bored when I speak to you. I’m not very pretty, not compared to some of the girls in your year.”

Fred had stopped reading by now and was intently watching me as I made my points. “Don’t say those things about yourself.” He murmured.

I shrugged. “It’s true though. I’m frumpy and my hair is always a mess, I try and do make up but somehow makes me look worse. I’m not terribly skinny and god I eat my feelings.”

“Hey,” he moved to stand in front of me and cupped my cheeks. “You’re the funniest, smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

I beamed up at him. “Really?”

“Really.” He smiled. “How an earth could you think I’d never date you?”

“I never thought you saw me in that way.” I confessed.

“I never saw you in any other way, I thought it was you who wouldn’t be interested in me.” He chuckled lowly.

I sighed. “Oh Freddie...”

His eyes flicked down to my lips for a moment, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His hands still cupping my cheeks, he slowly moved forward. He pressed a kiss delicately against mine, pressing a little harder as a small whimper escaped my lips.

He pulled back. “Better?”

“Marry me.”

He laughed loudly, clamping a hand over his mouth once he realised we were meant to be hidden. “One day.” He winked. “I can’t find anything to break this spell...”

“I don’t want it broken.” I said.

He rolled his eyes and helped me off the desk. “Come on, Lover.”

Fred and I spent most of the night talking in the Common Room, learning new and wonderful things about each other that only made me fall harder for him. I spent the rest of the morning gushing to the girls about my night with Fred, all of them rolling their eyes and trying to get on with school work.

I sat next to Fred in the Great Hall, arm looped through his as I rest my head against his shoulder and listened to him talk to the other boys about the upcoming Quidditch match.

Wait...what was I doing? I slowly moved my arm from his and sat up, Fred curiously looking down at me.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Uh oh, I think it’s wearing off.” George said from across the table.

I looked at Fred. “Oh god...” I blushed as I remember everything I said last night.

“Hey there Lover.” He smirked, right eye dropping in a wink.

“Oh god!” I screeched as I scrambled off the bench and immediately started running away, ignoring the howls of laughter as I scurried off into my own personal hell.

Safe to say the Love Potion worked.

[everythingcatradora]

a new year’s kiss

i started this back in late December but never got a chance to finish and post it on ao3 around new year’s so I thought I’d just post it here

Adora breathes in deep through her nose and exhales. “I’m gonna do it tonight guys. I’m gonna tell her.”

Glimmer aimlessly scrolls through television channels with their remote. “You’ve been saying that for the past three months.”

Bow shoots Glimmer a look of disapproval and she shrugs defensively in response. They’re all sitting on the sofa in their roomy apartment, Bow and Glimmer sitting super close with Adora curled up several inches away from them.

Bow smiles at the blonde in a supportive and genuine manner that’s basically second nature to him. “That’s great, Adora.”

“Please actually tell Catra you’re in love with her tonight and not chicken out. I don’t think I can deal with the lovesick puppy eyes from either of you anymore.” Glimmer says.

“I do not give her ‘lovesick puppy eyes’.” Adora slides down the sofa seat, sitting in a slumped position. “And she definitely doesn’t give me lovesick puppy eyes,” she mumbles.

“Ooh! Tell her so we can go on double dates too.” Bow beams.

Adora puts her head in her hands and shakes her head. “I’m only telling her so everything can be out in the open and so I don’t feel like I’m keeping this big secret from her anymore. I don’t expect her to y’know, love me back.”

“Adora. She looks at you like you’re the most important and precious thing in the world-”

Adora cuts Glimmer off. “She does that to everyone.”

Glimmer snorts. “She most definitely does not.”

“Catra is a very thoughtful and attentive person.”

“I guess you could argue that but what about her spending more time at our apartment- to be with you- rather than her own.”

“Making up for lost time? We did spend almost three years apart.”

“And the ‘not because I like you thing?’ When a person isn’t interested in someone like that they don’t constantly feel the need to prove it by reminding said someone.”

“You would know that, wouldn’t you?”

Glimmer flushes. “This isn’t about me! Don’t deflect!”

Bow laughs and Adora can’t help but ache at the two of them. She's already set herself up for rejection and disappointment but there’s a small yet consuming want locked inside a compartment in her heart, that desires something akin to what her two best friends have, with Catra. Adora’s happy for them but still.

“But seriously Adora, don’t just expect the worst and think so lowly.” Bow looks at Glimmer again and smiles. “Because you truly never know.”

Glimmer gives him the same lovestruck expression that makes Adora feel like she’s intruding. “And there’s always a chance they could feel the same way.”

catra: hey, im on my way to your place rn

catra: entrapta set something on fire in the microwave so thats why im a little late

Adora shuts her phone off and sighs. She paces the hallway near the apartment’s door starting a mantra to herself consisting of “you can do this” and “you got this”.

“Hey, where’s your ‘Happy new year’ sparkly headband? And are you…talking to yourself?” Glimmer says abruptly causing Adora to jump.

“It’s on the table and whaaat? Pfft no.”

Glimmer completely disregards Adora’s reply and Adora can’t even blame her because it was a terrible excuse of a lie. “You’re actually gonna tell her tonight aren’t you?” She says softly.

“Yeah. It just doesn’t feel right to keep it from her anymore with our new ‘everything on the table’ friendship deal. Keeping things from each other and not being honest with one another is what caused our big blow up in the first place and…I can’t lose her again, Glimmer.”

“Hey, you won’t. And in 10 years when you guys are married you’ll be happy that you told her that one fateful New Year’s Eve night.”

Adora playfully rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

Then there’s a knock on the door and Adora rushes to it without a second thought. She tightens her ponytail and unlocks the door.

“Hey Catra!”

“Hey Adora.” Catra gives her a small smile to accompany the greeting which Adora’s still getting used to over her previous smirk.

Catra’s in all black, a black leather jacket, a tight black crop top with a heart-shaped boob window (gifted to her for Christmas by Bow) , black ripped jeans, and black Doc Martens. She pulls it off though which isn’t surprising considering Catra’s always been the more fashionable one out of the two of them. Adora looks down at her simple red cashmere sweater and light blue jeans.

She looks back up and clears her throat. “Come in, we’re just setting up a few more things before everyone gets here.”

Catra steps in and hangs her leather jacket on the coat rack. As soon as she turns back around Adora pulls her into a gentle hug.

“I missed you.”

Catra blinks in surprise but relaxes into the hug and hugs Adora back. Adora sighs. She loves Catra’s hugs. Catra’s arms always hold her upwards (like if she were to carry something) with the palms of her hands at the top of her back.

Catra giggles and Adora feels the rumble of her laugh against her chest. “You just saw me on Christmas, dummy,” she replies, her voice laced with fondness. “So it’s only been a week.”

“So? I still missed you.”

[voiceless-terror]

More than Enough

For @tma-mspec-week Day Three: Polycule

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Sasha James/Tim Stoker/Martin Blackwood

Rating: Teen

Summary:

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

Or: How One Became Four.

It starts with Sasha and Jon.

She’s fresh off six months in Artefact Storage, shell-shocked and stand-offish. Jon starts a few months later and they learn the ropes together. She warms up, divulges little tidbits of her time in the other department that Jon devours. He’s young, hungry for answers and Sasha’s already jaded by her few years in academia. This is just a transitional job, she assures him. It pays better than most research gigs and allows her to keep up a certain lifestyle. 

“I’m looking at other places, putting out feelers,” she confides in him one day over coffee. It’s become their daily ritual, a mid-morning break where they can commiserate on the staid academics that ask too much of them and the fanciful statements that end up on their desk. “Whatever you do, don’t get stuck here.” She leans back in her chair, gives a cynical little smile. “Or maybe you should. It’ll be different for you, you’re a man.” He starts a protest but she cuts him off. “It’s an old boys club and you know it. Besides, I know all about your extra meetings with Bouchard. He’s never done that with anyone else. Who knows - in a few years you might be my boss!”

He scoffs at that. Jon feels like he’s treading water. He’s a great researcher, sure, but he hasn’t exactly made himself popular among the others. He’s quick to bite, dismissive, blunt. It’s why he and Sasha get along so well, tucked away in their own little world. Of course she would notice the attention from Elias; Jon’s flattered by it, even if he stammers his way through every interaction. Elias seems to find this amusing, but Jon wants to impress him. 

Though not at the cost of his friendship with Sasha. “I always mention your work to him. I’m rubbish with technology, but you-” She rolls her eyes.

“Don’t, he’ll see right through that. Manipulation’s not your strong suit.” Jon stares down at his rapidly cooling drink, an embarrassed flush spreading across his features. But her hand reaches out to grasp his and a fond smile lights her features. “Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you.”

Jon likes Sasha. Their personalities occasionally clash, but never for too long. Jon’s quick to forgive and Sasha’s too fond to hold a grudge, though she’s loath to admit it. So when her roommate suddenly moves out and she’s left in a bind, it’s only natural for Jon to take her place. He’s been rent-poor, living paycheck to paycheck in a shitty studio that’s still an hour’s commute. Sasha’s closer and her flat’s substantially nicer; she offers and he accepts, easy as that. It’s a practical move, and Jon has to admit his lonely little flat is starting to feel suffocating. 

They fit together easily, like pieces of puzzle slotting in place. Sasha’s brutally efficient in her personal matters; bills and maintenance that Jon finds overwhelming and confounding she takes care of with ease. He’s heard her on the phone in that light, practiced tone of hers as she casually threatens the landlord for necessary repairs. Jon finds himself relaxing bit by bit, feeling comfortable in his own skin as she snarks at the dinner table over a dish he’s made. He used to cook for Georgie like this. Now he cooks for Sasha.

“You’re good at this,” she comments one night over chana masala. “Loads better than the frozen meals I’m used to.”

“It’s nice, having someone to cook for. Harder to do it for one.” He feels a bit uncomfortable with the admission, though he knows he shouldn’t - this is what it’s like, when you love someone.

He’s never said that to her, of course. He gets attached too easily but never knows quite how to show it. And it’s not his usual sort of love, he doesn’t want to date her. She’s more than a friend, and Jon’s never had many of those; he has no metric to measure this against. He thinks he could stay in this flat with her forever, so long as he could see her smile every morning and yawn every night. 

On a Saturday morning she stumbles out of bed and makes her way over to the kitchen. “Morning,” she grumbles, as she reaches for the coffee pot and kisses his forehead. Jon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

On a Wednesday night Jon drinks too much. 

“Sasha,” he slurs, her arm the only thing keeping him from falling off his stool. “I want you t’ know…”

She smiles indulgently, takes a sip of her drink. “Yes, dear?”

“I-I love you.” She pauses and Jon’s heart drops. “N-Not like that, but like friends. Good friends. Very good friends. But m-maybe not.” She’s still smiling, that’s got to be a good sign, right? “I-I just love you, okay?”

And then she laughs, puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. “I love you too. Stay with me forever, okay?”

He takes her hand between his and promises, with all the solemnity a drunken man can muster, that he’ll stay with her forever and then some. The next morning, while they’re both nursing massive hangovers, Jon broaches the subject again.

“Did you mean it?” he asks tentatively, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “What you said last night. Do- do you want me to stay forever?” She turns to look at him, bleary eyes suddenly alert.

“Yes.” There’s no tease in her words as she leans into his side, a warm weight on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.”

Jon stays.

______

Two years later, Tim joins the Institute.

He’s handsome; charming, but subdued. He’s been assigned a desk near theirs, invading the quiet little corner that had become their world. Tim greets them both with a smile and a perfunctory handshake before settling down at his desk and powering up his laptop. He doesn’t speak to them again.

Jon watches as he goes back and forth between circulation and his desk, building an impressive stack of books- The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi, The Congress of Clowns and Other Russian Circus Acts. Sasha told him he worked in publishing, Jon knows she got that information through her usual nefarious means. Perhaps he’s writing a book, Jon says. Sasha thinks otherwise.

“He’s one of those,” she says over sandwiches and tea. She invited Tim, but had been turned down with an apologetic smile. 

“Hmm?”

“Like you.” She sets her drink down, eyes him with her steady gaze. “He’s got a reason.”

Mr. Spider doesn’t like it.

Jon shivers at the reminder. Sasha never brought it up after he initially confided in her one vulnerable night last year; she just held him through the shaking and the tears. He’s only told the story twice; once at eight, again at twenty five. It never got easier.

“No one believed me,” he whispered, tucking his face into her shoulder as his body itched from phantom legs skittering across skin. She squeezed him back.

“I do.”

They’re friendly enough to Tim, giving him his distance while still trying to be helpful. Jon points him in the direction of texts and scholars who might be useful, Sasha teaches him a few of her more invasive tricks that Jon refused to learn. Slowly, bit by bit, he opens up. Never shares his story, no- but he smiles, jokes around with them, accompanies them on their lunch breaks and eventually entices them to after work drinks. 

He’s handsome when he smiles, Jon thinks to himself as Tim regales them with stories of dates gone wrong. Sasha catches his eye and winks. He wonders if she’ll tire of Jon now that Tim’s around. He’s everything Jon’s not; good-looking, confident, secure in his intelligence. Sasha laughs so freely around him. He could ground her where Jon cannot- they can be a chaotic force, the two of them. It’s why they keep to themselves.

But at the end of the night it’s Jon’s hand she takes, swinging it gently with hers. “Stay with me forever?”

He smiles. “Forever.”

They invite him over to their flat one night in spring, when the trees are blossoming and Jon’s allergies are acting up. He’s sniffling miserably on the couch, Tim sprawled next to him as Sasha pours some wine. Despite his misery, Jon’s content.

Tim nudges him with his foot. “So what’s your deal?” he asks in a wheedling tone, though his smirk betrays an almost imperceptible anxiety. It’s strange. “You and Sash. Dating, roomies…?”

It’s Sasha who answers, handing Jon a glass of wine and standing before Tim, tall and proud. “Jon’s my partner.” It’s matter of fact, and Jon can’t help the warmth that floods him. “We’re not dating. I’m not interested in that.” She hands him his glass with a smirk. “But if you want to romance Jon, feel free.”

Jon sputters as she laughs- he’s transparent, as usual. They’d talked about it briefly- Sasha’s fine with him dating other people, but Jon’s never felt the need to. Sasha’s enough. She still is, but he can’t deny the way his heart swoops whenever Tim aims that smile in his direction. Sasha likes him too, in her own way.

Tim’s still gaping at them and Jon can’t help but join in on the laughter, as embarrassed as he feels. “Is the great Timothy Stoker nervous?” Sasha says in between giggles. “Guess we know how to shut him up now.”

“L-Look, can you blame me?” Tim says, a smile growing on his face. “You two can be very intimidating, not to mention gorgeous-”

Jon kicks at his leg. “Don’t joke.”

“No, we are.” Sasha interrupts, daring him to disagree. She turns that deadly smile back on Tim, delighting in his falter. “So what’ll it be, Stoker?”

There’s silence, Jon can feel his heart racing. They’ve got this all wrong, Tim doesn’t want him, Tim’s going to leave, Tim doesn’t understand-

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yes?”

“He likes Thai!” Sasha calls as she walks over to her bedroom, leaving the two of them on the couch, laughing nervously. 

“So you’re bi, then?” Tim asks, scooting closer to Jon and throwing a blanket over their legs and an arm around his shoulder. It’s warm in all the right ways and Jon leans closer, the awkwardness dissipating at the touch of his hand. 

“I prefer pan,” he replies. It’s the first term that felt right to him. Georgie used to make some stupid joke about a ‘gender buffet’ and him ‘having one of everything.’ It still makes him smile. “And- and you should know I’m also ace. So there’s some things I won’t be able to do for you.” He looks for disappointment in Tim’s eyes and finds none. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course.” Tim smiles like he means the words and Jon feels light, almost dizzy. “Are kisses alright?”

He nods shyly, and Tim takes this as his cue to pepper him in obnoxiously loud smooches- one in his hair, another on his nose. Jon manages to bat him away after Tim almost gets him in the eye. 

So Tim and Jon are dating. Tim takes him out to dinner, the movies, one memorable night of karaoke. Sasha joins in when she wants; they go to museums and lectures. One night she laces her fingers through Tim’s, smiling at his wide eyes.

“What?” she says innocently, doing the same with Jon. “I’ve got two hands.”

On Wednesday nights Tim goes to the gym. Jon sits at the table, passes Sasha a bowl of reheated spaghetti before settling down in his chair. He fidgets, not touching his fork.

“What is it?” Sasha asks, setting her own fork down. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I-” he stutters, sighing as the words won’t come. Just tell her like you practiced. “I’m not trying to, well- hmm. I don’t want to insinuate anything-”

“You would never.”

“But, I’ve noticed- I’m not- Tim is very handsome.”

Sasha smiles indulgently. “Mhm. Go on.”

“And I’ve noticed. I don’t- if you wanted to-” Goddamnit. Pull yourself together. “I wouldn’t mind it, if you were to - that is, if you’d like to engage in-” He closes his eyes, purses his lips in frustration. “Please stop me.”

“Why Jon,” she replies, her voice coy and teasing. “Are you giving me your blessing?”

Jon sighs, his face warming as he opens one eye- she’s grinning, just as he expected. “...Yes?”

Six months later, Tim moves in.

_______

“Jon wants to bring a boy home!”

Jon smacks him in the arm and scowls. “Tim, don’t-”

“What, it’s true!” He leans back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Jon wants to knock the smile off his face and maybe onto the floor, if he can get a good kick in. “I don’t blame you and in fact, I encourage it. Martin’s a catch-”

“Martin?” Sasha perks up. “Finally!”

“Not you too-”

“Jon, he’s a very sweet boy-”

“-good-looking, too!”

“And if you want to bring him over, please do.” She reaches across the table to give his hand an encouraging, if condescending, squeeze. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

“I don’t think I’ll need to go into that much detail just yet,” Jon cuts her off, ignoring Tim’s snicker. “It’s just...what if he thinks it's weird?”

“Weird can be good. And if he doesn’t agree, well - he’s not worth your time.”

If only it were that simple.

It’s been about three months since he first ran into Martin in the break room. He’d seen him around plenty of times, but despite his hulking form, the man can make himself very, very small. It wasn’t until he quite literally ran into him, causing him to drop his newly organized files, that Jon got a good look at his face.

It was a nice face. Soft, kind, with big blue eyes and curly red hair that fell across his forehead. He wanted to touch it, tuck it behind Martin’s ear and he almost did, despite the man’s rambling apologies and meek demeanor. He stood there, frozen, even as Martin handed back the file with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I’m pretty clumsy. Are you alright?”

Jon was fine. He should probably say that.

“Y-Yes. I’m Jon.” Wow. Smooth.

“I know.” Martin put a hand behind his neck, nervously chuckling. “You’re quite known around these parts.” His eyes widened and his face turned red. A nice red. “N-Not in a bad way, of course! You’re- you’re just very smart and- and direct- and oh Lord, that’s not a compliment, is it-”

“Thank you for my file,” Jon replied robotically, his eyes trained somewhere over Martin’s shoulder and not on his very, very blue eyes. “I have to take my leave now.” Why are you talking like this?

Their next few encounters were similarly stunted and awkward. Martin made tea at ten every morning, coincidentally when Jon got his yogurt from the fridge. He started making Jon a cup as well; he wasn’t sure if Martin was particularly excellent at making tea, or if it just mattered that he was the one making it. Jon tried not to dwell on the sentimentality of it all. 

He shouldn’t want another partner. He’s got Sasha, who he loves, and Tim, who he also loves, albeit in a different way. They should be enough for him. They are enough. But Martin makes him tea and asks him how his day is going and smiles at him and people don’t do that. He tells himself he just wants a friend, but he finds his mind wandering- Martin’s hand in his while they walk down the street, Jon nestled into his side on a movie night and Tim’s there too, because Martin is very comfy and handsome and warm. Sasha’s in her armchair reading a book because tonight they’re watching a romantic comedy and she hates those. Jon hates them too but Martin likes them, of course Martin likes them-

No. He’s getting distracted. And he’s standing in front of Martin like an idiot, saying nothing. This is going terribly. Why did he ever think this would not go terribly-

“Jon? Are you alright? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“I’m not having a stroke,” Jon responds on auto-pilot. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to ask you out but you are very distracting.”

Shit. Martin stares at him, mouth open in shock. He’s got nice teeth. Very straight.

“Um- I-I thought you were with Tim?” Martin squeaks out. Oh God, I’ve scared him. Do I keep going? “Or- or Sasha, oh! I’m not accusing you of -”

“No, you’re correct,” Jon grinds out, willing himself to be calm. He doesn’t want Martin to think his frustration is aimed at him. “Sasha’s my partner and I’m dating Tim, and sometimes Sasha and Tim-” No! Abort! “-sorry. We’re together. But, um, I-I also like you, and I think Tim likes you but he hasn’t said- I’m sorry, this is going all wrong.” He looks down at the floor, clenching his jaw. “I understand if you say no.”

“I’m not saying no,” Martin’s voice is lower now and Jon feels a hope rise in his chest. He’s not? “So it’s, it’s like an open thing? You’re accepting applications?” Jon would laugh at the joke if he weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Not really? It’s, we aren’t dating around or anything, but I suppose it is open, in a way.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Open for you.”

Martin’s smiling like he can’t believe his luck, and it confuses Jon because who wouldn’t want him? Kind, handsome Martin who makes him tea and doesn’t laugh at his stupid jokes but rolls his eyes affectionately and tells his own in turn. Jon doesn’t think he’ll ever understand his humor but it makes him smile and that’s important. And now Martin’s taking his hand and he- oh fuck Martin’s taking his hand Martin’s got his hand and it’s warm, just like he knew it would be-

“I-I think I’d like that.” A squeeze. Jon dies but only a little. “Wow, this is sort of crazy for me, y’know? You’re all so, so intimidating and good-looking-”

“Yes, we are,” Jon agrees, squeezing his hand back. “But we’d like to buy you dinner, if you’re amenable.” Martin laughs and says yes, he’s very, very amenable. It feels right holding Martin’s hand. It feels right to see him with Tim and Sasha, smiling and joking. It feels right to lean into him at the end of the day, to nudge his side in the night and apologize in the morning.

Martin’s lease expires in seven months. They start looking for a new apartment after three.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032062

[hotsayce]

Saving Water

{ Ten Lee x Reader - <1k - You and your cute roomie try to save water by showering together ;) - Suggestive }

"How about we just shower together?"

"Excuse me?"

You and your roommate Ten were trying to find more ways for your apartment to be more earth friendly after reading an article online.

"It's a great way to save water."

"I don't know Ten." You say while avoiding his eyes. "I'm sure there are other ways to save the earth."

"Oh come on." Ten grabs your phone from your hand so you have no place to look except for at him. "I heard that this is the perfect way to bond with your friends. You don't want to bond with me?"

It's not that you didn't want to bond with Ten, you love Ten, you've been friends for so long and always enjoy spending time with him. But showering with someone as attractive as him and seeing parts of him that you've never seen before were sure to not add up to anything good so you'd rather just admire how cute he is from afar and not while he's naked.

"Are we even close enough to shower together Ten?" The look on his face is a mixture of shock and deject.

"No no! I didn't mean it like that. Of course we're close." you reassure him. He doesn't listen and overdramatically gets up from the couch and begins sulking up to his bedroom.

He gets to at most the 8th step before you yell out. "Fine! I'll shower with you."

You didn't even have to look at the stairs, the sound of him running down them is enough to tell you how excited his is.

Ten pulls you away to the shower while you debate how much you truly love the earth.

~~~~~~~

"Come on in! The water's fine."

Ten had already begun scrubbing himself with soap and you couldn't help but stare at his body. His lower body to be specific.

Ten never minded showing off his body as much as you did. The most (or lack of) you'd ever worn around him was short pajama shorts meanwhile, he often walked around the house shirtless without a care. Keeping your eyes on his face then was hard enough, it could only be harder now.

Stepping into the shower, you try your best not to prolong looking at him so as to not make things awkward.

Grinning at you, Ten continues to wash and hands you the soap.

It doesn't take long to get used to having your hot, naked roommate behind you. Once you weren't facing him, it was kind of easy to forget he was there. Neither of you had anything to talk about either so it was just a 'normal' everyday shower.

"Can you help me wash my hair?" Ten says abruptly, waving his shampoo bottle in front of your face.

Wash day? It's like he's trying to get me to stay in here for longer than need be.

You turn around and take the bottle from him while he takes you in. It was the first time he really got to look at you since you immediately faced a different direction when stepping into the shower.

As Ten spends a bit too long looking down at your body, your face begins to heat up and it's not because of the hot water from the shower head.

"You look good." He says after finally lifting his eyes to look at you. As your ego swells from hearing Ten's compliment, you thank him and begin washing his hair.

While your hands run through this hair, you take the time to stare at the serenity of Ten's face, the length of his lashes on his closed eyes.

"Are you staring at me Y/N?" Ten peeks open one of his eyes trying to avoid getting shampoo in them.

You look away from his face, embarrassed you were caught. "How'd you know?"

"I just knew. And because your hands stopped moving." You notice that your hands on the top of his head were in fact frozen and then resume washing his hair, wishing you could wipe the smirk off Ten's face instead.

Two can play at this game.

Once you both finish washing, it's almost time to get out but you stop Ten before he can turn off the water.

"This wasn't as bad as I thought." You say while wringing out your washcloth.

"See? I told you." Ten does this same with his towel and you take them both, pushing past him to hang them on a shelf outside the shower. Your position brings you closer than you have been this whole time and he reaches out to grab your waist.

"Maybe we should try to save water again sometime." Taking Ten's hand on your waist as a signal, you rest both your arms on his shoulders, stepping forward.

Ten has always been sexy when dry but between the hot water still running down his back and the water drops left all over his body, this is a sight that you've never seen.

"I'd like that." He says, then leans in towards you with his eyes closed and head tilted.

You lean in as well but right before your lips touch, you dip down to shut off the water behind him.

He looks at you dumbfounded, his mouth slightly open.

"What? We're trying to save water remember." You say coyly, while stepping out of the tub and getting your dry off towel, leaving Ten alone to wonder about how soon you'll both be doing this again.

{ A/N: This may the most suggestive thing I've ever wrote, how do y'all do this all the time?? This was also inspired by a prompt I reblogged. Also uhhh Paint Me Naked is so good! It would be a shame if some good smut writers wrote a fic on it 😋}

[honeynutouran]

Me too (Kirishima x Reader)

Summary: You have had a crush on Kirishima since you started going to UA but you never said anything. Now third years you have a long weekend and you and your friends decide to go on a road trip.

Word count: 1.8k

Kirishima x GN reader

Y/N = your name

A/N: I haven't written in a hot minute so I wrote this up feeling the need to write. Sorry if its not the best I just wanted to post something for you guys. Also I suck at endings so I apologize.

Warnings: some cursing, one bed and fluff. (If there are any other warnings please reach out to me so I know)

UNEDITED

Being best friends with Bakugou Katsuki had its perks like he would help you study because “If you won’t leave me alone might as well keep up with me.” (His exact words) And you got to hang out with his other friends and his other best friend, Kirishima.

Bakugou has noticed that you have had a liking for Kirishima and would not drop it. “God, just say something to shitty hair already, I am sick of you staring at him all the time. I’m trying to teach you this new move listen dumbass.” He said to you when he caught you staring at Kirishima during training.

“I was admiring his form, shut up boom-boom boy.” You spat back, hitting him with your quirk.

“Yeah right, his form, and that didn’t even hurt.” He laughed brushing off where you had hit him.

“I wasn’t aiming to hurt you, dumbass.” You said this time aiming at his head as he tried to dodge your oncoming attack.

A few weeks had passed and you and the rest of your group were planning what you would all do on your next long weekend. Mina insisted you all go on a road trip stopping at her house one night since she had enough room for everyone as long as everyone was cool with sharing sleeping spaces. Everyone agreed it seemed like fun, well almost everyone.

“Why would I want to spend a long weekend with you extras?” Bakugou questioned.

“Bakugoubro, you’ll have a great time with us.” Kaminari smiled a toothy grin to Bakugou and Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be very mainly to skip out on time with your friends," Kirishima added.

“Plus, if you don’t hang out with us, who else will put up with you?” Sero chimed in causing everyone but the boy in question to laugh.

“Fine, so you guys stop annoying me.” He gave in and you smiled to yourself thinking about a weekend with your friends and especially with Kirishima.

After getting permission from Aizawa to leave the dorms for the weekend and Sero borrowing his family’s minivan the plan all fell into place.

“We can take turns driving every couple of hours!” Mina exclaimed climbing into the passenger seat next to Sero in the driver’s seat. Behind them in the middle row were Bakugou and Kaminari. You and Kirishima were in the very back because Bakugou claimed he would get car sick in the back (a lie he came up with so you could sit next to Kirishima, unknown to you) and Kaminari claimed he would be best in the middle so he could charge everyone’s phones fairly.

“let me know if you need more room, it would be unmanly of me if I made you uncomfortable.” Kirishima smiled at you as you guys got situated in your seats.

“I’m okay, thanks, Kiri.” You smiled back at him.

After a few hours, you started to feel yourself get more and more tired despite it now being Mina's driving shift and she was not the most graceful driver.

“Hey, Y/N you look pretty tired,” Kirishima whispered.

“hmm.” You nodded in reply your eyelids becoming heavier. You tried to fight the tiredness, but you failed, finally letting the sleep take over.

Kirishima was frozen in place as your head plopped onto his shoulder, he knew that if he moved and woke you up it would be super unmanly. He would never let anyone wake up because of him, especially you. Mina looked in the mirror and smiled at the sight of you and whispered to the rest of the car to look. With that Kirishima blushed when the rest of the boys turned towards you two Kaminari giving him a thumbs up. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the sight but he was secretly happy for his best friends.

After some more time and everyone having driven, you had finally arrived at Mina’s house. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Mina smiled while gesturing toward the house. “It is a little cramped but, we have 2 spare rooms.” She explained.

“So two rooms and six of us?” Sero asked.

“Well three rooms including mine, so two per room. I’m assuming Y/N in my room then the rest of you can split up.” Mina suggested.

“No way am I sleeping in the same room as any of these loud idiots. I’ll be with you raccoon eyes.” Bakugou complained.

“I am not sure my parents will be okay with you in my room Bakugou.” Mina started.

“Parents love me-“ started but was cut off by your laughing.

“Bakugou my parents have known you since you were in diapers, and they cannot stand you sometimes.” You laughed even more.

“Shut up ditz, I don’t want to be stuck with you all night either. I’ll talk to raccoon eyes parents. Also, sparky you cannot room with Y/N last time you guys had a ‘sleepover’ you short-circuited and shocked Y/N and you both had to see recovery girl.” Bakugou reminded you before walking into the house to convince Mina’s parents of his sleeping arrangement.

“Hey, that was awesome, and we were fine.” Kaminari protested.

“It’s okay dude, we can room together, finish out the smash bros tournament we started in the van.” Sero offered, and Kaminari happily agreed.

“Looks like we are roomies.” Kirishima smiled at you pulling his stuff and yours out of the van.

“I can take that.” You said pointing to your bag but, Kirishima shook his head and insisted he got it. “Thanks, Kiri, you really don’t have to though.” You say feeling bad that he is taking your stuff.

“It’s okay Y/N you’re stuck rooming with me, it’s the least I can do.” He offered smiling, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“I am not stuck with you, Kiri you would have been my first choice.” You smile back your face starting to heat up. Kiri looks at you a little too long before he realizes he is holding both your stuff and his own.

“I should go bring these to the room then.” He coughed out walking into the house.

“Well, that damn blasty brat convinced my parents that he would be the best to sleep in my room, so I guess I will show the rest of you where you will be staying.” Mina sighed not looking forward to her sleeping arrangements.

“Hey, I am a delight.” Bakugou yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Yeah, can’t wait. Anyways Kaminari and Sero you guys can take my brother's old room since you won’t mind the smell. Kirishima and Y/N you guys can take the guest bedroom.” Mina said pointing to each room. Kirishima nodded and took your stuff into the guest room upon entering he turned to you his face matching his hair.

“Uh Y/N… there is only one bed. I can ask Mina if she has a spare futon or something if you want me to, it would be super unmanly to make you share the bed with me an-“ you cut off his rambling.

“Kiri, it is okay, the bed is pretty big anyways there is plenty of room I wouldn’t want you to be stuck on the floor. I promise it is okay.” You say hoping he does not realize your face is on fire from the idea of sharing a bed with the boy you have been in love with since your first year at UA.

“Well, if you are sure it is okay.” He says a little unsure himself.

“It is.” You reassure him.

When it was time to go to bed Kirishima was panicking when he was changing into his pajamas, what if he did something to make you uncomfortable or what if he does something stupid, but what he didn’t know is you were having the same worries as you changed in the bathroom. After you finished changing you knocked on the door to see if it was okay to come in.

“I’m changed, you can come in,” Kiri said, turning towards the door when you came in. “What side of the bed do you want?”

“Oh, uh I don’t care either is fine.” You said walking in and closing the door behind you.

“Okay, I will just take the side closer to me then.” He said getting into bed, practically on the edge.

“Kiri, you can move over some more, you don’t have to worry. I would be worried if you fell off the bed.” You laughed at his attempts to be as respectful as possible.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He explained once again.

“Kiri how many times must I tell you? You could never make me uncomfortable.” You said moving closer to him.

“Are you sure, because what if I like ended up cuddling you or something?” he blushed.

“I would be okay with that.” You admitted hiding your face under the sheets to avoid any further embarrassment. But your surprise Kirishima grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“This is okay?” he asked.

“It is more than okay.” You replied molding yourself into him.

“I’m glad.” He smiled into the back of your head making himself comfortable against your touch. You two quickly fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

At the moment you two were way too happy to be with one another you forgot about the four other members of your group. You were still in Kirishima’s embrace by morning, only have gotten more entangled with each other.

“Shitty hair, ditz get up!” Bakugou yelled as he opened your door. You both bolted up and backed away from each other only to have Bakugou scoff and close the door. “Don’t be late for breakfast.” He said from behind the door.

“We should probably get down there,” Kirishima said scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah but first I gotta do something.” You said scooting closer to Kirishima.

“Do what?” he asked as you got closer.

“This.” You smirked, closing the distance between you two by crashing your lips into his, he quickly caught on and deepened the kiss letting the feelings across that you two have shared for each other for years. “Been wanting to do that for a long time.” You smiled when you broke apart.

“Me too.” He smiled back in his crooked smile. “So does this mean we are dating?”

“I hope so.” You said grabbing his hand and pulling him out of bed.

“Then it does.” He replied as you walked hand in hand to breakfast.

“I CALLED IT!” Mina yelled when you two walked into the kitchen.

“Sero owes me five bucks.” Kaminari said smirking at you two.

“Technically no, because we do not know when this happened.” Sero said to Kaminari making him frown.

“Who cares, can we eat,” Bakugou complained but you could have sworn when no one was looking he smiled to himself. “Told you, you should have told him.” He said to you under his breath.

“Did you know this whole time Katsuki?” you asked.

“Tch, know what?" He replied taking a bite of his food and refusing to keep talking on the matter. Kirishima grabbed your hand once again giving it a small squeeze and smiling at you when you turned your head towards him.

“I’m glad we went on this trip.” He smiled.

“Me too.” You smiled back Kiri.

[ezekielbhandarivalleros]

Scaredy Cat and the not-so Haunted House

Characters: Ajay Bhandri, Dylan Hayes (MC), Layla “Leah” Hayes (Sister), Skye Crandall and Rory Silva 

Summary: The Gang go to a haunted house at a local fair 

Taglist:  @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @daddytyrilstarfury @cts-tj1 @choicesficwriterscreations @hss-fanfics

Rating - General (Everyone can Read)

"If you think that you can scare me, you've got another thing coming," Ajay muttered under his breath as he began wonder yet again why he had agreed to go to a haunted house with Dylan.

Ajay knew that he would live to regret his choice, but after the scare with the Cyber Killer this week he could not seem to able to refuse his own boyfriend. He knew he wasn't the only one roped into going as Leah had both agreed to go. Rory had wiggled his way out of it probably with a promise of unlimited hugs  for the rest of Dylan’s future career.

"Leah, Dylan  just remember as long as you don't touch the people in the haunted house they can't touch you. Last year, I went this haunted house where if you made it through the haunted house they gave like a hundred dollar prize. They could touch you in that one and you had to sign a waiver saying you were not going to sue the haunted house if got hurt. Goblin's Revenge is pretty tame, but if you touch the actors they can touch you." Ajay said all of this quickly in a very giddy way.

"Oh great," Dylan thought, "I better make sure lee-lah doesn't have any weapons on her because I have a feeling when Leah gets scared people are gonna get hurt. Hopefully if she doesn't have any weapons on her the results will be less fatal. OR NOT! I can't believe I let Ajay talk me into doing this even though it was my idea at first!"

"Uh, Leah, do you have any weapons with you?" Ajay asked with the knowledge that if Leah was without weapons than he was winning the award for Least Annoying with Movie References.

"Of course I do, Ajay. What kind of Mossad officer and NCIS agent would I be without them," Leah smiled as she said this with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Um… How can I put this delicately, Leah? YOU CANNOT BE ARMED IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE! We wouldn't want you to shoot or stab anyone if you get spooked. No paperclips either." Ajay said and winced as if expecting some sort of retaliation from Leah for even suggesting she be unarmed.

"Ok," Leah replied stunning the entire group into silence not even a breath was heard for a full minute.

"Why don't you put all your weapons in the trunk of my Blazer, Ajay?" Ajay was the first to recover from Leah's astonishing reply.

All of them had come over in Dylan's parents Blazer as Ajay's car was in the shop and the Blazer was roomy enough to accommodate the Three of them easily. Leah began pulling out knives from everyplace imaginable and she had two guns hidden on her person as well. Ajay placed the weapons in a compartment under the carpet of the trunk and locked the Blazer.

He felt an urge to suggest patting Leah down to make sure that all of her weapons were accounted for, but for once his survival instinct took over before he could voice that opinion. Deciding that he should just stay between Leah and the haunted house actors to insure of all of their safety seemed to quiet all of his worries.

The entire time Ajay had been thinking, the group had made their way through to the admissions windows and paid for their bracelets so they could enter and leave the house as many times as they wanted until midnight. The bracelets were bright orange and took on a neon glow when entering the haunted house allowing the workers guarding the doors to be able to easily tell who was supposed to be there and whose was not without disturbing the patrons.

"Sweet, they're playing the Sixth Sense on the TVs while you go through the house," Dylan exclaimed then added in scared almost girly whisper, "I see dead people."

The rest of the group rolled their eyes as they started walking through the maze. Dylan was on the lookout for hidden compartment and decided that it seemed that it would most likely for the actors to pop out from the inner wall of the maze. He took up his position at Leah's right unfortunately the maze was not made for two people to stand side by side.

He tried to walk sideways, but only succeeded in making himself look like an idiot as he tripped over one of the prop skeletons legs that were placed at random intervals throughout the maze's walkways. He then decided to walk in front of Leah hoping to warn the actors of their impending doom if they made Leah mad or scared.

A bloodcurdling scream filled the maze as Ajay was frightened by Skye popping out of the floor in front of him followed by a squeak of pain as Ajay had stepped on Dylan's foot and then stumbled back causing him to lose his balance and follow on his butt with Ajay landing on top of him.

Skye began laughing her head off at the sight as she began to tease Ajay  mercilessly, "McKlutz maybe Dylan should walk in front of you so we can be sure that he doesn't get squashed to death by YOU!"

Skye already slipped back through the trapdoor to prepare to scare the next group that came through the corridor while Leah helped her brother up whom seemed to find the entire situation hilarious, "Dylan, I think that you are probably one of the only people who made Skye laugh!"

"Leah, Dylan are you okay since everyone seems to be only occupied with my lack of coordination?" Ajay questioned  as he helped her to her black booted feet.

"I'm okay. Really, Ajay," Dylan and Leah Both said reassuringly.

Ajay seemed to notice that Rory had not made a single comment on the entire situation when he turned around to comment on this to utter surprise he found that Rory was nowhere to be found.

"Guys, Rory's gone, he was here with us at the start but since then I haven’t seen him!" Dylan said as he looking back and forth down the hallway hoping he would suddenly appear like a crazy ninja.

"He probably leaned against the wall and went through one of the revolving walls. There is one right behind you." Leah stated calmly as Dylan started to look even more nervous.

"Dylan, I think he can handle a haunted house on her own. "Ajay said tickled by the frightened and very worried face of his boyfriend.

"Dylan, I'm not worried about Rory. I'm worried about what he might do after the people who scare he. Even without the knife your sister gave him at the start he's deadly and he reacts often with instinct which makes it more likely for himself faint or pass-out to only get hurt!" Dylan replied as he pushed against the wall to make it turn noticing Dylan and Leah sudden realization that Ajay might actually have a valid point.

As the wall revolved Dylan came face to face with a grinning Rory who was leaning on the wall a little left of the revolving wall so he would not get squashed by it.

"Dy, I have more self control then you think you realize. I haven't fainted yet and you drive me up the hall all the time." Rory said with a laugh, "I dropped the weapon your sis gave me so I would not be tempted to use them when scared."

Rory looked a little abashed by being found out.

The Twins were greeted with the sight of Ajay saying, "Rory, the saying is up the wall not the hall," and Ajay with look of annoyance at Rory's need to constantly correct his English when it was obvious what he was saying if it was exactly perfect English.

Not wanting to stay in the Haunted House, Rory and Dylan run out grabbing the photo of the gang from the booth racing of to a much safer and less scarier park ride

[zigraves]

About your recipe with the curdled milk and the brandy - there is not quite enough detail there for me to feel comfortable attempting to replicate. Can I ask you to make a step by step?

Sure! Here is a step by step that breaks the original 4 steps into quite a lot more than 4 steps, hopefully with adequate detail about each step and why you do it the way that you do. This is a LONG post, so it’s hopefully buried under this readmore.

Equipment you need: A measuring cup, ideally a set that also includes 1/4 cups and 1/2 cups, but it’s fine to just use one cup and go by eye. A peeling knife or grater (for zesting your fruit) A pan capable of holding at least 4 cups of liquid A large lidded jug that fits in your fridge A spoon with a long handle A second large jug for straining your mix into, lid not required A large glass bottle, at least 1 litre capacity, with flip or screw top, for final storage of your fancy drink. This should be sterilised ahead of time, ie in dishwasher or oven. A seive or similar strainer A funnel for convenience Coffee filters, several

The method I use is based off Mary Rockett’s Citrus Milk Punch over on splendid table, and with the same ingredients. Keep to a 1:5 ratio of milk:cocktail for the best results, but you can get away with 1:4 in a pinch. I treat cups as British cooking cups, ie around 250ml capacity. As long as you use the same measuring cups throughout, you’ll be fine: 1- Peel your lemon & orange into long strips of zest. I use one large naval orange and two whole lemons worth of zest because I like it extra flavoursome. If you have more time and also motor control, take a microplane grater and zest all the colour off your fruit. You want the zest to be able to give out all the oils & flavours it contains, hence optional use of a grater. You DO NOT WANT the pith, the white stuff under the tasty zesty peel. Leave that on the fruit, and save the fruit for later by wrapping it in clingfilm to replace to the outer skin it lost.

2 - Dump the zest/ strips into a tupperware containing two cups of your cheapest brandy. I use the bottom shelf stuff that comes in plastic bottles. Try to make sure it’s a good waterproof tupperware, because then you can pick it up and give it a violent shake to encourage the delicious oils from the zest to really infuse into the brandy.

3 - Put your tupperware container somewhere away from direct sunlight (I hide mine on top of the microwave), and come back 24 hours later.

4 - It’s now 24 hours later. Pour a cup of milk from the fridge into a LARGE and LIDDED container, like a 2 litre jug. The milk will sit in the jug warming up to a cool room temperature while you do the next bits.

5 - The official recipe says to add your remaining ingredients together and whisk till the sugar dissolves, but this is where I diverge a bit. Add your 2 cups of water and 1/2 cup of sugar together in a pan, and heat gently while stirring until the sugar dissolves. I find this faster and easier on my wrists than trying to whisk sugar into cold water and brandy that’s already got stuff in it.

6 - Take your sugar solution off the heat & let it cool a bit, then add the juice of yesterday’s bald orange and lemons and stir them together. Use fresh, not bottled stuff, even if this means you need another orange because you ate the one you zested yesterday. The original recipe says 1/4 cup each lemon and orange, but I like 1/4 cup lemon and 1/2 cup orange.

7 - Strain your brandy-with-stuff-in into the solution, discarding the zest that was in it. If you just put in strips of peel, this is easy - pick out the chunks and chuck ‘em. If you put in grated zest, you will need to use a strainer for all the little bits. Stir your liquids again to make sure everything is nicely mixed.

8 - GENTLY pour your brandy-juice-water-sugar mix into the milk that’s now a coolish room temperature. If you dump it all in at once, the milk can curdle too fast. And likewise, if you add the milk to the brandy instead, it will curdle instantly and then you lose the slow process that gives you good results.

9 - Give your horrible brandy-juice-water-sugar-milk concoction a gentle stir with a long handled spoon of some kind, so that there’s no untouched milk sitting at the bottom and no totally clear brandy stuff sitting at the top.

10 - Put the lid on your container, put it in your fridge, and WARN YOUR FLAT MATES/ FAMILY/ ROOMIE/ SPOUSE NOT TO TOUCH IT, because most people, on seeing a jug of horrible curdled milk hell, will sensibly want to throw it out. But they don’t know what we know about playing with booze and chemistry. Leave it for 24 hours.

11 - We are now on Day Three of making this cocktail. Take your horrible nasty curdled milk hell drink out of the fridge, noticing that it has settled into a thick curdy soft-cheese mass and a mostly clear liquid that’s still got some funky looking stuff. Line a strainer with a coffee filter, and begin to decant from the fridge jug into a new container via your filter. I find it helpful to stick the strainer atop a funnel for this part, since most liquid containers have narrow mouths better suited to funnels than to big round strainers.

12 - You will go through a few coffee filters, because the milk curds will start to clog it up pretty quickly on your first round. I throw out the clogged filter and replace it wth a new one every time the flow of liquid from filter into container gets to just being a very, very slow drip.

13 - Great, now do that again. Despite the loving care of multiple coffee filters, some sediment from the milk will probably have gotten into your lovely end result. The original recipe suggests two rounds, but I usually do three rounds of filtration to get the level of clarity I’m happy with. Final round is filtered into your nice bottle for storage.

14 - Done! Seal your bottle of fancy booze, and store it in the fridge (or, if you live somewhere that’s temperate bordering on cool & have access to a root cellar or similar storage location, store it outdoors in the ground away from sunlight as Charles Dickens used to do and as my girlfriend’s mountain-dwelling Welsh family still do).

note: this recipe should taste decent immediately, but the flavour develops when it has more time to really commingle so it’s totally worth coming back to after a month. If you decide you want to experiment and use other boozes & fruits as a base, just keep it acidic and note that some flavours take longer to mellow than others.

[4stars-uswnt]

Eyes for Only One [Alex Morgan x Reader]

requested by @androgynousmoneyflowervoid: Hey could you write a alex morgen x reader Where reader is new in the team and a couple of players are mesmerized by her. They try to make a move on reader and try to get her attention. But reader has only eyes for one person and that is Alex Morgan.

A group of the USWNT players stood agape on the sidelines, watching you do your pre-training workout. You had taken your shirt off about half way through your workout, leaving you in only your sports bra.

“What are you guys doing?” Alex Morgan confusedly asks her teammates, approaching the group.

“Admiring our new teammate and her extremely fit body.” Emily explains.

Alex directs her attention to where you’re wiping your face, and she can’t help but stare at your body. They certainly had a good reason to admiring, as you were the most beautiful woman Alex had ever seen.

“Why is she working out before training? She’s gonna be exhausted.” Alex points out, tilting her head.

“I dunno, but by looking at her body, I can tell she can go for a long time.” Kelley smirks, nodding in approval.

Alex rolls her eyes at her best friend’s innuendo. “Kel, you have a girlfriend.”

“And? It doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the female figure. In fact, I’m sure if my girlfriend was here, she’d be admiring (Y/N)’s body as well.” Kelley remarks.

Before Alex can respond, Vlatko blows his whistle. “(Y/N), get over here!” He waves you over to meet the rest of the team. “As many of you have noticed,” he glances knowingly at Kelley, Emily, and the others who had been ogling you, “we have a new call up. Everybody, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Hey.” You wave at the team, smiling. You scan the group, recognizing many of the world-class players, and your eyes fall on Alex, your breath hitching. Obviously, you’d heard of Alex Morgan and seen pictures of her, but nothing could compare to seeing her in real life. Feeling someone’s eyes on her, Alex looks around and makes eye contact with you. You immediately look away, embarrassed you had been caught staring.

“You can get to know (Y/N) later and ask her all the questions you later after practice.” Vlatko continues, holding up his hand to stop Emily, who had opened her mouth to ask you something, before he begins to explain the plan for training and the first drill.

To say that the USWNT had been impressed with your play would be a massive understatement. Your touch on the ball was extremely controlled and quick, and you worked well in the middle, connecting the back line to the forwards. Not only were your soccer skills outstanding, but your strength, agility, and speed were something worth mentioning. By the end of training, you had more than proved yourself as national team caliber, leaving the rest of the team wondering why you hadn’t been called up earlier.

—————

As you slide into an empty seat on the bus, Emily turns around in her seat, already starting the inquisition. “So, where are you from?”

Looking up from your phone, you answer the blonde defender. “LA.”

“Another California girl!” Kelley hollers, and you chuckle and nod.

“Sonny, wait till dinner to question the newbie.” Megan shouts from the front of the bus.

Emily humphs and turns back around in her seat, making conversation with Lindsey.

You slip on your headphones and listen to your music undisturbed for the rest of the ride back to the hotel.

—————

At dinner, you find yourself staring across the room at the forward who’d been occupying your thoughts all afternoon and evening.

“(Y/N)!” Ashlyn calls out from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Time for your interrogation!” Ali slaps her wife’s shoulder and scolds her.

“(Y/N), it’s not an interrogation.” The older defender reassures. “We just wanna get to know you a little better.”

“Sure.” You nod, as the entire team turns their chairs to face you.

“How old are you?” Kelley starts.

“29.”

That definitely raised some eyebrows, as the team was still curious as to why and how this was your first call up, especially given your talent.

“Why haven’t you been called up before?” Christen asks from next to you.

“I’ve received call ups ever since I was 18,” you reveal, shocking many of the women, “but I’ve never been able to attend camps or actually be on the team. It just was never the right time. I had to take care of my younger siblings, and my family was tight on money.” You tell the team a shortened version of your story so they get the gist of it. “And we all know FIFA doesn’t pay women enough money.” You add on with a small chuckle, causing the entire room to laugh and roll their eyes.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here now. We could definitely use your skill going into the Olympics.” Alex admits, smiling.

You turn to meet her blue eyes and return a smile, nodding in appreciation. “Thanks, it’s really great to finally be here. This has been a dream of mine since I was little.”

“Who was your favorite player growing up?” Tobin asks, muffled by the food in her mouth.

“Michelle Akers, definitely.” You affirm, taking a bite of your own dinner.

“Good choice.” Tobin hums in approval.

“Are you single?” Kelley shouts, earning an elbow to the rib from Alex.

“Kelley!” She chides harshly.

“What? It’s a serious question.” The freckled-woman insists before turning to you, awaiting your answer.

“Uhhh, yeah I am.” You nervously scratch the back of your neck, and Kelley smirks at Alex, whose cheeks tint pink, as she looks down at her lap. You feel your own face flush, as you watch the older forward. Something about this woman captured your attention, making you feel things, but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it.

“(Y/N), where’d you get that banging body?” Megan jokes, smirking, and you chuckle lightly.

“I guess just a lot of working out and playing soccer in my free time.” You shrug nonchalantly.

“Well, it definitely paid off.” The pink-haired woman winks, as you duck your head.

“(Y/N)! How’d you do that shifty move to beat Tobin down the sideline?” Mal pipes up eagerly.

“Yeah, how’d you meg the nutmeg queen?” Christen smiles, teasing Tobin, and the rest of the team laughs.

You grin at the women around you, feeling lucky to have this opportunity to not only play with some of the best players in the world, but also to get to know these incredible people. You, once again, find your eyes landing on Alex and can’t help but admire how beautiful her laugh sounds and her infectious smile.

After answering a couple more questions from the team and finishing up the dinner, you all head back to up to your rooms.

You enter your room, with your bag rolling behind you, and find that you’re rooming with Kelley, who’s crouched down, unpacking her suitcase.

“Hey roomie!”

“Hey, Kel. I assume this is my bed.” You point to the one closer to the door, as the other woman had already dispersed her stuff on the other side of the room.

“Yeah, sorry. Is that okay?” Kelley stands up, looking worriedly at you.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You smile and nod, reassuring her.

The two of you unpack, shower, and get ready for bed. As you pull back the covers and get into bed, Kelley puts down her phone and looks over at you.

“What’s up with you and Alex?”

“Uhhh…what do you mean?” You freeze and your eyes widen.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Kelley says with faux seriousness. “You couldn’t stop staring at her all throughout practice and dinner, even with everyone else’s attention on you.”

“No I wasn’t!” You vehemently deny, ignoring the blush arising on your cheeks.  

“Mhmm.” Kelley raises her brow. “Just so you know, Al was staring at you too.”

You slightly tilt your head, hesitantly peeking over at the other woman. “Really?”

“Yup.” She pops, smirking. “And, she’s texting me right now, desperate to know what I know about you now that we’re roomies.” Kelley sings, shaking her phone.

You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach at the thought of Alex Morgan asking about you.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I gave her your number.” The defender winks.

“What? Kelley!” You exclaim, your eyes widening. “How did you even get my number?”

“I— uh — I might have got it from your phone while you were in the shower.” Kelley winces, bracing herself for your reaction. Luckily for her, you were a chill and laidback person.

You just roll your eyes at your roommate and chuckle. “Of course you did. You trying to play my wingwoman?”

“Well, based on the minimal interaction between the two of you and the incredible sexual tension, I could tell neither of you were gonna make a move anytime soon, so I just nudged you along!” Kelley bursts with an explanation.

Before you could respond, you hear a ding from your phone.

“Oh! Is that Alex?” Kelley jumps from her bed onto the foot of yours and peaks over your shoulder, trying to see the name on your screen.

You bring your phone close to your chest, out of the other woman’s sight. You glance down at the screen and see a message notification from an unknown number:

Hey (Y/N)! This is Alex Morgan. I hope you don’t mind that Kelley gave me your number.

“Well?” The freckled woman bounces with anticipation.

“Yeah, she sent me a message.”

“What does it say?”

You show her your screen, allowing her to read the message.

“I can’t believe she ratted me out. What a snitch.” Kelley mutters under her breath, and you snicker at the other woman.

“What do I say?” You ask nervously.

“Just be like ‘Hey. Good to hear from you’ or something simple like that.” She shrugs, moving back to her bed.

You nod and type out a response.

(Y/N):

Hey Alex! How’s it going?

A few minutes later, you get another message from the star forward, sparking a conversation between the two of you.

Alex:

Good. Just watching some random show Emily put on. How bout you?

(Y/N):

Haha sounds fun. Kelley and I are just hanging out.

Alex:

Nice nice. How was your first day of camp?

(Y/N):

It was amazing! The team’s awesome and super welcoming

Lol the soccer is also fun.

Alex:

I’m glad!

Haha yes soccer is fun, especially when you’re as talented as you are

Your cheeks redden upon reading that message, and you feel like a teenager all over again.

“If you two get married, I better be given credit for setting you two up.” Kelley teases, noticing your flushed face, as she goes to turn off her lamp.

“Shut up, Kel.” You respond, shutting off your own light. “G’night.” You throw over your shoulder, as you turn over on your shoulder.

“Night, (Y/N).”

You reopen your phone and respond to Alex.

(Y/N):

Wow. Thanks Al that means a lot esp coming from you 🥰

Alex:

No problem (Y/N/N) 😊

Do you maybe wanna grab some coffee tomorrow before breakfast?

You beam at your phone, a giddy and nervous feeling overwhelm your body before quickly typing out a response.

(Y/N):

I’d love to!

Wanna meet in the lobby at 8:30?

Alex:

It’s a date! Can’t wait :)

Goodnight (Y/N)

(Y/N):

Night Al

You power your phone off and set it on the night stand. Pulling the covers up to your chin, you can’t help but feel excited for your plans with Alex tomorrow. Today was the beginning not only for a new experience on the USWNT, but it was also the start of a new adventure with a woman who would ultimately become the love of your life.

[mischiefandspirits]

Six Eggs in the Nest

Bruce returns from his trip through time to discover that not only had his kids grown, but so had his family. An old face had reappeared in his absence.

Part of the Six for the Age of One AU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you feeling?”

…

“Come on, Bruce,” Clark sighed. “As subtle as it might be, your heart rate still changes when you wake up.”

Bruce grunted, not opening his eyes.

“Good to know your trip through time didn’t affect your language skills.”

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing of note on the League’s front,” J’onn reported and Bruce finally opened his eyes to see the martian was looking over Bruce’s vitals.

“Just business as usual,” Diana agreed from the doorway.

Bruce turned to Clark, who was sitting in a chair next to Bruce’s hospital bed. “Gotham?”

Clark gave a soft smile and answered the unasked question, “The kids are fine. They’d be here, but I guess Ivy and Freeze got into a fight just as they were about to leave and Penguin tried to use the distraction of the fight to move cargo or something.”

“I checked in with them just before you woke,” Diana said before Bruce could get worked up. “In Oracle’s words, I threw Harley at Ivy and Nightwing, Signal, and Corvid smashed Freeze’s helmet so that fight’s basically won. Batwoman reported that her team had taken down Penguin and were supervising the cargo’s transport to the evidence locker before heading in.”

Bruce nodded, relaxing. “I’d assume Batwoman is Stephanie. Nightwing… Dick?”

“Yeah,” Clark said, looking smug. “And Corvid is Damian. Tim’s going by Ghost Bat now.”

“When you disappeared, they all stepped up to become heroes worthy of your legacy,” Diana said. “You would be proud of how strong they’ve been.”

“I am proud.” He simply wished he’d been there to see them through the transition. “How long was I gone?”

“A year,” J’onn said, apologetically and Bruce nodded.

That was longer than it had been for him, but not by too much. A year though…

He’d missed most of the kids’ final year of high school. He’d missed their graduation. He’d missed helping them sign up for college.

Was Duke enjoying his literature studies? Did Stephanie go through with her plans to start the pre-med track or make good on her jokes about taking a year off? Was Damian able to decide between a business or veterinary medicine major? Had Tim figured out what he wanted to do? Did Dick change his mind about not continuing school?

And little Carrie was still so young. Would she even remember Bruce?

“What’s the cover story for Bruce Wayne’s disappearance? And Batman’s?” Bruce asked, pushing the rest down. “I’ll need to figure out how to spread out my appearances so no one becomes suspicious.”

The three shared a look and Bruce’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s not that simple,” Diana said slowly.

“I’ve been standing in for Bruce Wayne with Timothy’s help,” J’onn said. “It was Duke’s idea. Richard had taken up your mantle, but he wasn’t able to convince those who really knew Batman so I was going to pretend to be you until enough time had passed that we could fake your death without it being connected to the change in Batman. Then Timothy and Damian found evidence that you were alive so we’ve kept up the ruse.”

Bruce nodded. It was a good idea, even if Bruce didn’t exactly feel comfortable knowing the martian had been impersonating him for so long. Something else caught his mind, though. “If Dick is Batman, why is he also going by Nightwing?”

“Dick was Batman for a while, but… someone else is Batman now,” Clark said, uncertainly.

“Who?”

“We don’t know. The children won’t tell us,” Diana said. “They’re as stubborn and secretive as their father.”

“About six months ago Batman just… changed,” Clark explained. “We didn’t notice at first since Richard was still the one showing up for Justice League stuff, then Nightwing appeared in the news. It was pretty obvious Nightwing was Dick. We thought that maybe he was setting up his own hero for when you came back, but Batman was seen working with Nightwing and all the rest of the boys. He’s also more…”

“Vicious?” J’onn offered. “And dramatic, but in a grim way. His fighting style is firmer as well, in a way Dick couldn’t manage no matter how much he held himself back. His Batman is more genuine than Dick’s. To the point that, from what we’ve gathered, those who realized he had replaced you already think you’re back.”

“We tried asking Dick the next time he came up for a meeting, but all he’d say was that he wasn’t ready to see us,” Diana added. “Clark went to Gotham -”

Bruce glared at the kryptonian.

“I know, I know. Your kids caught me within minutes and Stephanie gave me a lecture you’d be proud of. And don’t act like you’re not burning with curiosity. Do you even have an idea who it could be?”

“Did you find out anything?” Bruce redirected and Clark shook his head.

“I couldn’t see much because the cowl is as lead-lined as you always had it and he got out of there fast once Stephanie intercepted me. He was tall and broad like you and what skin I saw was fair, so he couldn’t be any of the boys.”

That… didn’t add up. Who would the boys have trusted with Batman? “I need to get home.”

All three looked like they wanted to argue, but J’onn unhooked him from the monitors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cave was empty when Bruce teleported in, though the still-warm cup of tea next to the Batcomputer’s keyboard and the lit-up screens showed that Alfred had recently been monitoring the comms before stepping out for a moment.

“- anything yet?” came Robin’s -- Nightwing’s -- voice when Bruce hit the button to unmute the main comm line.

“Wonder Woman said he was still unconscious when she checked in,” Oracle answered.

“Batman, Batwoman, and I will be at the cave in a minute. The two of us can head up immediately and report back,” Ghost Bat offered.

“Speak for yourself,” Batwoman huffed. “You can hang around Wonder Woman smelling like a sewer all you want, but I need a shower.”

“You will wait for us or I will give all your sweatshirts to Goliath as nesting materials, Ghost!” Corvid snapped.

“Nah, Goliath can do better than G’s hoodies. Besides, he’ll just go steal some from Metro. I’m pretty sure half the ones he’s got now are clone boy’s anyways,” laughed a voice Bruce didn’t recognize. Batman’s, he assumed. Something about it nagged at him, but he couldn’t place it. He was sure he knew the person though. Was he altering his voice for the suit like Bruce did? It didn’t have the growl, but maybe he was just making his voice deeper. If his voice was higher…

Bruce was torn out of his musings by a snarl. He turned to see a large groenendael stalking towards him. Behind the dog was a massive pillow with five other dogs atop it. A Great Dane was stretched out regally at one end, wagging his tail but otherwise not paying Bruce any attention. A lab and a pit bull were flopped over each other limply in the middle, fast asleep. A German shepherd was standing on the other end, just as alert as the groenendael without the aggression. A Chihuahua was similarly eyeing Bruce from her spot tucked under the Great Dane’s chin, kept quiet and still only by the larger dog’s presence.

Bruce wasn’t surprised the dogs had invaded the cave in his absence. He could only hope Goliath and Wiggles had continued to be cut off in their separate portions of the cave and Alfred the Cat hadn’t been allowed to torment the bats.

He knelt and held out his hand. “It’s alright, Jane. It’s just me.”

The groenendael quieted at his voice and continued approaching him. The closer she got, the more relaxed she became until she was close enough to cheerfully lick and nuzzle at his hand as an apology for growling.

“It’s okay, girl. You’re doing a good job protecting the cave while everyone’s out.”

Ace was at his side in an instant to sniff him over for injuries and nose his neck in a greeting Bruce easily returned. Titus yawned and turned away as things calmed down, which allowed Ami to leap to her feet. She gave two quick yaps at Bruce, then stomped over to curl up on a corner of the pillow. Haley and Hazel slept on.

A moment later the roar of an engine echoed through the cave, heralding the arrival of the Batmobile. Bruce’s spot was slightly hidden from the vehicle bay, so he had the chance to observe the three that climbed out.

Batwoman’s suit wasn’t too dissimilar to the one Barbara had donned during those two short years she’d held the mantle. All Stephanie had altered was swapping out the red on the bat, belt, cape lining, and wig for her signature eggplant.

Ghost Bat’s suit was black, sleeveless, and made from the same lightweight armor Tim and Dick always used. A grey bat was across the chest, the color matching his gauntlets. He wore a cape and cowl like Batwoman’s, though the cape lining and wig were grey. The wig was also cut short to match Tim’s chin-length locks instead of Stephanie’s chest-length curls.

Batman’s suit, at first glance, looked exactly like Bruce’s. On closer inspection, though, it appeared thinner, closer to the medium bulk armor Damian and Stephanie used. There were also knives hidden across the suit and the cape was shorter than Bruce kept it. His build appeared to be just as Clark described, but Bruce knew the suit enough to tell it was making him look broader in the shoulders and the boots’ soles were altered to make him look shorter. Bruce estimated him to be a few inches taller than himself and around Duke’s width. The visible portion of his face was a pale beige, distinctly different from Dick’s olive tone or the other boys’ darker skin colors.

“- soft and roomy!” Ghost was arguing. “It’s no different than you stealing Bruce’s!”

Batman shot him a perfect Bat-Glare, as the kids called it. “I don’t have any of his sweaters!”

“That’s because after you steal them, Alfred always washes them and puts them back in B’s closet,” Stephanie snorted, pulling down her cowl. She gave him a wink when he turned the glare on her. “Just because you only wear them to bed doesn’t mean we don’t notice. Also, Tim’s stolen horde isn’t just Kon’s. He also got some of mine, Cassie’s, Duke’s, Damian’s, and yours in there. Dick’s and Cissie’s aren’t baggy enough and Bart’s are scratchy. He’s also got one of Kori’s because he took it thinking it was Babs’ and now he’s too embarrassed to give it back.”

“STEPHANIE!” Ghost shouted as Batman snapped, “Is that where my green hoodie went?”

Stephanie snickered as she turned to head deeper into the cave. Her eyes caught Bruce’s and she froze.

“What’s wrong?” Batman asked and he and Ghost followed her gaze.

“Kids,” Bruce said after a moment of trying to figure out what to say.

Batman stiffened and Stephanie smiled. “Hey, B.”

Ghost shot forward, but stopped just before he reached Bruce, looking like he was barely holding back from throwing himself at Bruce.

Bruce took the decision away from him by pulling the boy into a hug. He pulled down the cowl to press a kiss to the top of Tim's head as the boy started to shake slightly with silent tears.

“So B’s here,” Stephanie said and he heard her voice echo through the comm in Tim’s ear.

“What!?”

“He’s supposed to be resting on the Watchtower.”

“Of course they couldn’t keep Father contained.”

“We’re on our way.”

“You’re here,” Tim whispered and Bruce pressed another kiss to his head.

“I am. I’m so sorry for being gone.”

“Tim’s the one who found you,” Stephanie said as she walked up. “Or, well, he’s the one who made it possible for the JL to find you.”

“I heard. I’m so proud.”

“Damian helped,” Tim muttered, burying his reddening face further into Bruce’s chest.

Bruce rubbed his back for a few seconds, then pulled away so Tim could pick up the Chihuahua nudging up against his ankle. He made sure Ami was helping Tim calm down before nodding at Stephanie. However, he soon found his gaze shifting back to the unknown factor.

Batman was still standing where he’d been the last time Bruce checked. He looked frozen in place, only his hand having shifted so that it could rest on Jane’s cheek. The groenendael was staring up at him as she licked and nuzzled at his wrist and hip in an effort to draw him back from wherever he was, though Bruce doubted he could feel it through the suit.

She must have realized it too as a moment later she stood up on her hind legs with her forepaws on Batman’s chest so she could lick at his chin instead, snapping him out of it enough that he looked away.

It was then that Stephanie glanced over her shoulder to see what Bruce was staring at. “Shoot.”

“What?” Tim asked, tucking Ami to his chest. He looked at Stephanie, then Batman, then his eyes shot to Bruce. “Oh. Crud. We really meant to do this slowly.”

“Are you two going to introduce me?” Bruce grunted.

His eyes were still on the stranger, but he could see both eighteen-year-olds open their mouths to respond. Before they could, Batman nudged Jane off and reached up to pull down his hood.

Bruce’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hey, Dad,” Jason said, running his fingers through his black and white hair.

Ace nudged Bruce’s side, just under his ribs.

He took a breath, then another.

“What part of do this slowly didn’t you get, Jay!”

“We all know he wasn’t going to rest until he figured out who I am. I’m just ripping off the band-aid.”

“This isn’t my Earth,” Bruce said.

The three shared a look and Tim pressed into Bruce’s other side. “It is.”

“My Jason is…”

“Dead?” Jason finished. “Yeah, it, uh, didn’t take. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not the time, Jay!” Steph sighed. “Come on, Old Man. You look awful. We’ll explain once you’re sitting down.”

Bruce’s hands itched to grab Jason. To grab him and pull him close and never let him go again.

He kept his hands to himself as he followed the kids to the meeting table. They had just enough time to get settled when the elevator dinged and Alfred stepped out with a fussing Carrie in his arms.

The butler took in the group, then gave Bruce a pointed look. “You are meant to be resting.”

“I had to check on the kids.”

“Of course you did.” Alfred came forward to deposit Carrie into the arms of her honorary grandfather then set a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, Master Bruce. We’ve all missed you.”

Bruce nodded and looked down at the toddler.

She blinked up at him before smiling and poking his cheek. “Boosie back!”

“Yeah, Sweetheart, I’m back,” he said, voice hoarse.

Three motorcycles shot into the cave, the boys on them quickly jumping off. Bruce set Carrie on his knee as he took in his rapidly approaching sons.

Nightwing’s suit was similar to Ghost Bat’s, though his had sleeves and he had just a domino in place of the cape and cowl. The suit was black with a cobalt V across the chest that resembled a bird. The wings stretched all the way to the shoulders then ran down the sleeves to end at the tips of his middle and ring fingers. The blue color carried over to his domino mask and the trim of his boots. A pair of escrima sticks poked out from behind him and black pouches were connected to the waist of the suit like a built-in utility belt.

Corvid’s suit was black with a matching utility belt and carried the same moderate bulk Damian preferred. A long, hooded jacket sat over the suit, sleeveless and colored sapphire with white trim. It sat open, revealing the white outline of a bird stretched across his chest. The suit was finished off with a black domino mask with equally black lenses and tall emerald boots.

Signal’s suit looked the same as it had when Bruce was sent away, and Bruce took comfort in the fact that not everything had changed.

Stephanie ducked down for a quick hug, then removed her daughter from Bruce’s lap so she wasn’t crushed when Nightwing threw himself into it a second later.

“You’re so stupid for running off from the Watchtower, but I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m fine,” Bruce said, holding the boy close with one arm as he reached out to grab his youngest’s hand.

Corvid squeezed back as he glanced over Bruce, then let go and left to take a seat.

After giving Bruce a quick hug around Nightwing, Signal went to grab his own seat as well. He pulled off his helmet and looked pointedly at Jason before turning back to Bruce. “Guess it’s storytime, huh?”

“You couldn’t even keep it a secret for five minutes?” Damian tisked after he’d removed his mask.

“He was ripping off the band-aid,” Tim mocked.

“We all know how obsessive B gets when someone puts a mystery in front of him,” Jason huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“It is something you’ve all inherited from him,” Alfred hummed as he began to set cups of tea in front of everyone except Carrie, who got a sippy cup of warm milk.

Dick squirmed around so he could remove his mask and accept his cup of tea, then made himself comfortable in his father’s lap.

“You’re getting too old for this,” Bruce teased, wrapping his arms around the eighteen-year-old, and Dick shushed him.

“Where should we start?” Stephanie asked.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-40)

Word count: 4.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels, sickness

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. You’re a Rockstar <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

No one talked to you today, the whispers though, had escalated. No one was bothering to keep it quiet either. Not just your classmates, even the faculty kept giving you looks, ranging from distrust to pity. Professor Whitman, who never cared much about anything, took a whole minute to find you in the class and give you a once over, like he was seeing you for the first time- Sam Winchester’s flighty wife, back to ruin his life again.

The judgement you could take. The pity was painful. What did they see? A girl who couldn’t appreciate a good man? Or as much as you hated to think of it that way- a girl who couldn't be a mother again.

It came as a surprise when Jody called you to her office after the class. When you followed her in, she closed the door behind and unexpectedly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Y/N,” she said. “It’s awful.”

You waited for her to let go of you then asked, “How much trouble is Sam in?”

Jody pursed her lips. “I want to say, ‘not much’ but we’ll only know on Monday, I suppose.”

“Are you part of the enquiry committee?”

She nodded. “All of the freshman faculty panel is on there. You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. Your grades are impeccable. You can’t possibly be sleeping with all of us.”

“I’m not even sleeping with Sam!” You let out, frustrated. “And I’m more worried about what happens to him.” You were a student. The most they could do is sack you from the students committee and bump down your grades. 

Jody regarded you for a moment. “The two of you are so similar. It’s uncanny.”

She sighed. “I’ll be upfront with you, Y/N. As much as I’ve tried to shake them, Sam’s priorities are set. Even absent, you were very high up on that list. With you in front of him, there are very few things Sam wouldn’t give up for you.”

You already knew that. But was it right to let him make all those sacrifices for someone as undeserving as you?

The thought plagued you after you’d left Jody’s office, just as it had plagued you for the past two days. Outside, you ran into Madison.

“Oh, I was looking for you,” she said. “Sorry, I missed the first few lectures, but I have news for you. One good, one bad.”

“Bad one first,” you said, apprehensive. 

Madison made a face. “Starting the day after tomorrow, I have no place to live.”

“What? Didn’t you have a lease for the whole year?”

“Lacey is screwing someone, who knows someone else who knows the hostel director. And, well, long story short, my lease got prematurely terminated.”

Anger flared inside you again. This was happening to Madison only because she was staunchly standing with you. 

“I want you to come house hunting with me. My brother’s agreed to help me out with the money. So, I’m good to go.”

The idea popped up in your head immediately. “Why don’t you move in with me?” 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Meg?”

“Meg’s almost moved out next door. I was supposed to put out an add for a roommate but with everything that’s going on…” Convincing Meg to continue with the move had been very difficult. She thought it was some sort of betrayal to leave you by yourself in all this mess. Cas supported her on that. However, everyone was camping in your living room anyway. 

Ultimately, you had to put your foot down and tell her to move her ass out. Your life might always remain a tragedy. It shouldn’t pause her or Cas’s life. She had still slept on your sofa last night.

“You’re serious?” Madison was trying her best to contain her excitement.

“As a heart attack.”

She let out a loud squeal and tackled you. “This is the best thing ever. We’ll be roomies!”

“Not if you call me that.”

Madison’s laughter rang out in your ears. “Now you’ve already offered. You can’t take it back, roomie.”

“Wait, what’s the good news?” 

Her face split into a huge grin. “I heard from the HR at Acton Gris. They won’t hire me as an intern. But she asked me to apply for the position of summer associate next year. She said my chances looked great.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Yes! I’m thinking of applying for an on campus job this year.”

Madison was sincere, smart and she worked very hard. No wonder good things were in store for her. “Let me talk to Molly today. See if she has some inside intel on vacancies.”

“You’d do that?” Madison couldn’t stop beaming and you smiled right along with her. “The world is a much better place with you in it.”

Not everyone thought that. Following the pattern of the past few days, Rebecca decided to show her face again after the lecture. You had been expecting her at this point. Maybe she couldn’t sleep without venting off her frustration on you. As usual, she had Lacey next to her, who really had gone fully darkside.

“Missing your Professor?”

You saw Madison start, but Rebecca put in. “Oh, stop being her Lapdog, Maxwell. You don’t have to rollover each time she blows a whistle.”

“It’s alright, Maddie,” you said in a calm voice. “As it happens, I do miss him very much.”

“I hope at least the sex was worth it,” said Lacey.

You grinned at her. “Mind-blowing, actually. I remember this one time, I was screaming his name for literal hours. God, the things that man can do. It’s in-credi-ble.” You drew out the last word with a relish.

Lacey’s jaw dropped.

Rebecca recovered quickly. “Christ! You’re shameless. That man’s married with a son. Have you got no shame at all?”

“Weren’t you the one making out with Sam at Maddie’s birthday party in the bar restroom?” You shot back. “I remember you described the bit about feeling his abs in extreme details. He wore his wedding ring around his neck. So how are you not shameless?”

Rebecca’s face reddened in an instant. “What… how…?”

“Doesn’t feel so good when the finger is pointed at you. Right, Rebecca? When you’re the one being put on a spot and your character is being brought into question. It was okay for you to make out with a professor. Why are the rules so different for me?”

“I- I was drunk that night. And I never slept with him!”

“Don’t you dare paint him in that light. As if you were some drunk woman he took advantage of in a toilet cubicle.” You spat. “You’re so desperate that you don’t think twice about lying over something so demeaning. You didn’t touch Sam because at 2 in the night, he wasn’t even there in that bar. So shut that bullshit.”

There was a crowd gathered around you now, and she didn’t like her words coming back to bite her.

“How do you know where Sam was that night?” Rebecca questioned, clearly baffled and out of her element, but trying to salvage the situation and save face.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re having an affair, remember? Keep up, Rebecca. You filed that complaint. Also, don’t worry about his wife, really. She totally doesn’t mind.” You winked.

The murmur around you was starting to intensify. You didn’t know how long it would be before the actual story came out. Or if it ever would come out. Neither did you care. You didn’t owe an explanation to any of these people. 

Rebecca breathed out harshly, and spoke through her teeth, contempt dripping in each word. “You’re disgusting. That child of his-”

“Don’t. Don’t utter a word about that boy,” you hissed, the anger finally burning through. “You’ve done enough harm to Sam’s reputation. But I swear to God, Rebecca, you’ll live to regret it if you so much as dare to think about Max, you deplorable excuse of a living thing.”

The warning was so raw, she flinched back from you as you stormed out. 

Madison did not follow you to the library. She knew when you wanted to be left alone. Attacking Sam was one thing, but you really did want to rip Rebecca’s throat for wanting to bring Max in the middle of it. The fierce protectiveness you felt for him was like nothing else you had experienced before. 

Throughout the following hour, you kept glancing at the door of the library, expecting Max to walk in. Sam had said he would visit. 

Maybe you would ask him to read out to you today. If anything, that could fix your mood.

“Umm… Y/N?”

You looked up to see Molly standing over you. 

“Hey. I didn’t see you there.”

She shuffled from one foot to the other looking at you awkwardly.

You squared your shoulders, realising what she might’ve heard. “Anything you want?”

“I- I wanted to say sorry.”

That brought you up short. “Why?”

Molly ran her fingers through her red hair. “I didn’t know you were… you know… Sam’s wife, and I said horrible stuff to you the other day.”

It hadn’t actually been that horrible. 

“I’d heard the rumours but I swear I didn’t believe a word. Then I ran into Chase Lincoln yesterday. He told me.”

“Everything?”

Molly nodded sadly. “It was wrong of me to make assumptions, Y/N. What happened in Sam’s life was none of my business. And for the reason you left to be so horrifying? I could have never imagined. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know how to apologize.”

“Stop saying sorry,” you said at once. “I know you’ve always meant well for Sam and for me, Molly. Everyone likes to gossip. It’s no big deal. You didn’t hurt or offend me.”

“There must be something I can do, novia.”

“Never bring it up again. Please. Let’s just forget that conversation happened.”

You saw her eyes start to fill up. “Take the rest of the week off, yeah? Come back Monday.”

“You’re low on staff already.” You did not want anyone’s sympathy.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “Spend the weekend with Sam. He’ll need a distraction more than ever before that hearing on Monday. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Molly disappeared into the librarian’s room before the waterworks started. She didn’t want you to see her tear up so you didn’t follow her in, continuing with your sideways glances at the door. The sharp ring of your phone made you jump.

“Hello?” You answered the unknown number

“Y/N? It’s Alex. Sam left me your number in case of emergencies.” She sounded frantic.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Can you please come over? Max is really sick and… he’s… he’s asking for you.”

*****

Instead of knocking on the door, you straight up punched the security key and barged into the house.

“Max? Alex?”

“Up here!” You heard Alex’s voice. Taking two steps at a time you made it to Max’s room. Your chest contracted, seeing Max in the bed. He was curled up on his side, cheeks wet, face puffy from crying. 

Alex was sitting on a chair next to him, distressed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, rushing to Max’s side and placing a hand against his forehead. He was burning up.

“I don’t know,” said Alex, “He was fine when I picked him up from school. He said he was feeling sick half an hour ago and now he’s running a fever. I tried calling his usual doctor but it says the number doesn’t exist anymore. He’s been crying and calling out for Sam and... you.”

“Did you try Sam?”

“He’s not reachable.”

“Max, honey, what’s wrong?” You asked as gently as you could. “Do you hurt somewhere?”

He opened his eyes and your heart lurched at the tears in them. “Stomach. My stomach hurts. I want dad.”

“Sam will be home at night. He’ll be with you.” You turned to Alex. “Is he allergic to something?” 

“Not that I know of.”

You were sure he hadn’t had outside food in at least a week, so food poisoning was out.

“Does your body hurt, baby?”

Max nodded slowly, drawing into himself. “And my head.”

“Alex, could you please find the first aid box and get me a thermometer?”

She scampered off to find it, relieved to have someone else take charge of the situation. Keeping one hand on Max’s forehead, you reached out for your purse with the other and pulled out your phone. Thankfully, the number was on the speed dial. He picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Cas, where are you?”

“At the hospital. Everything okay?”

“No. Max is running a high fever. I’d guess around 101. He says he’s feeling sick, and has stomach and body ache.”

There was a pause, then Cas said. “Can you drive him to the hospital? Bring him directly to the paeds ward on the 7th floor. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”

Alex was back with the thermometer. 102.3. Thankfully, she had a license and Claire’s car was in their driveway. You asked her to bring it out front.

After she left, you gently coaxed Max into a sitting position, he looked drowsy and was still sniffling a little. “Honey, listen to me. You’re going to have to deal with a little inconvenience, okay? We’re going to drive you to the hospital very quickly.”

“Hospital?” He mumbled. eyes filling up again. 

“It’s just Cas there,” you soothed him. “You remember Cas, right? We all played jenga together.”

Max opened his mouth to say something, instead his eyes widened and threw up over the front of your sweater and into your lap. 

He started crying immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled up. “It’s okay, baby. It’s no big deal.” You removed the puke covered sweater and used to wipe away the vomit stuck to your jeans. “See, it’s all gone. No need to worry at all.”

The retching had left him weak and shivering. 

“Just stay put a minute.” You hurriedly tossed your sweater in the hamper by the door, and pulled on one of Sam’s overlarge shirts over your T-shirt. Once back, you grabbed Max’s grey blanket and wrapped it around him. Slinging your purse around your torso, you lifted him in your arms and carried into the car that was already waiting at the curb. You held Max close to your chest in the backseat, whispering soft reassurances in his ears. 

Just as Alex pulled up in front of the hospital, Max threw up on you again. It made him cry harder. You realised it was not just humiliating for him, he was missing his dad terribly. 

“Max, honey, it’s totally okay,” you assured him, kissing his brow. “I used to throw up so much as a kid, gran used to call me projectile Y/N. Just puke all around me all the time. Hell, ask your dad. He held my hair when I threw up in the toilet. It’s my jam. And we’ve got a  towel now. Let’s clean you up, okay?”

Thankfully, the blanket wasn’t soiled, so you could keep it around him as you carried him in the lift.

Cas was waiting for you there. He immediately guided you to a bed and laid Max down on it. You started to step back.

“Y/N, don’t go,” Max rasped out. 

“I’m right here, Chirp. I’m not going anywhere, but Cas needs to take a look at you.”

Max still reached out with his hand. You looked at Cas. He gave you a quick nod and you rushed to Max’s side once more, grasping his outstretched fingers tightly. Cas pressed Max’s tummy, asking where exactly it hurt, then checked the temperature again along with the pulse. You watched apprehensively as Cas pulled down Max’s eyelids and asked more questions. Meanwhile, the chills kept getting worse.

“It looks like he’s caught a viral fever. The nurse outside told me it’s been doing a round at the school. We’ve had many kids this week.”

“Why is he throwing up then?”

“It’s probably the phlegm. I don’t think there’s a reason to worry. I’ll give him an IV with paracetamol and nausea suppressants. He’ll feel much better in a few hours.” Cas hesitated. “Maybe you should ask Sam before we start the treatment. Only he can sign off on the papers. You’ll need the details of the health insurance.”

“I can’t get to him. We’ve been trying non-stop.” 

Would Sam want you to make such decisions on his behalf? Max was looking paler than usual and was clearly in pain. You couldn’t wait till midnight to start him on medication. It was killing you to see him hurting like this.

“Screw the insurance. I’ll pay whatever the bill comes out to be… and I’ll sign off on the papers as well.”

Cas gave you an apprehensive look. “Y/N?”

“Look,” you said through your teeth, “I’m still his legal guardian. I have that right. Just start him on the medication. I can’t bear to see him like this.”

“Alright.” Cas said something to the nurse behind him who rushed out and then came back with a syringe. 

“This is going to hurt just a little, Max,” Cas said, flicking at the needle.

You crouched down next to Max’s head. “You’re my brave boy, aren’t you? One little prick and that will be all. You’ll feel so much better afterwards. Can you do that?” 

Max gave you one quick jerk of his neck. “Close your eyes.” He did. 

Cas pushed the needle into the tiny crease of Max’s arm and you flinched, tears pouring down your cheeks. Max did not even make a whimper. The nurse stuck a piece of white tape over the puncture mark after Cas was done.

“You need to swallow these two little tablets,” Cas said, handing them to Max along with a glass of water. Max looked at you and you nodded encouragingly. Without any fuss, he did as Cas said. You hugged Max very tightly to your chest. “You’re the bravest little thing in this world, you know that? And I’m so damn proud of you. You get every cookie you can think of when you feel better, yeah?”

“We’ll keep him here till the nausea subsides,” said Cas. “Once he feels better, you can take him home.”

Cas seemed concerned, but it wasn’t directed at Max- which made you feel better. It was directed at you. “You better sign off on those papers, Y/N.”

“Can you please bring them here?” You pleaded. “I don’t want to leave Max.” The boy in question was still hugging your middle tightly.

“Of course.”

It was with shivering hands that you filled out the form. You stared at the paper for a whole minute before ticking off on the small box in the relationship to the patient column against mother. Max had fallen asleep in your arms and the tears just wouldn’t stop. You knew he was going to be okay, the fever was already coming down and he had stopped shivering. Sweat dewed up on his forehead. 

Occasionally you wiped it off with the back of your sleeve. 

But you were terrified of this feeling- like the world would go dark if a single wrong thing happened to this boy. There was a point in your life when you were ready to own up to this feeling, looking forward to it even- and then you had lost it, along with every other emotion in your heart. Since the day you had met Max, you’d been dancing along the edge of the precipice of this very feeling- this selfless, immense love. Not ready to take the leap. Scared that you’d be shattered if you did.

Were you scared of being a bad mother? Or were you simply scared of being a mother? 

As you sat there, alone, in the small clinical room, with Max softly snoring in your lap, you realised that what you truly feared above and beyond everything was giving in to feeling this love and losing it again. 

If you accepted him as your son, and then something happened to him, you wouldn’t make it out of it alive. Literally. Not accepting Sam’s love and a place in his and Max’s life was not only a product of your doubts and self-hatred. It was a plain survival instinct. The epiphany was so strong, it left you breathless.

You felt a hand against your shoulder. Cas’s blue eyes were sympathetic in their depth. “You can take him home now, Y/N.” He didn’t try to reassure you beyond it. He had a subtle way of comforting without saying the words out loud.

You called Alex again, who had been reading in the waiting room and she drove you back to Max’s place. He’d been asleep through the ride, right until you put him to bed. Insisting that Alex go back home and study for her exams, you stripped down to your tank top, pulled on a pair of Sam’s tracks. After making sure that Max was still out, you cleaned up your clothes, and the mess on the floor and side of Max’s bed. You didn’t dare close the door of the bathroom, lest Max call out to you and you couldn’t answer. 

Taking the chance, you made some chicken soup for him, and only then did you wake him up, gently. 

Max called out for Sam the moment he opened his eyes and your heart broke again. Doing your best to reassure him that Sam was on his way, you cajoled Max into changing out of his dirty clothes and into fresh ones. 

He refused to eat the soup, but with soft insistence, you persuaded him to finish half a bowl of it. 

“You’ll read to me?” He said in a muted, dull voice as you tucked him back in the bed.

“Of course, sweetheart, what do you want me to read?”

“Anything.”

You looked around the room, your eyes landing on the only book over his nightstand. 

“Alright, here we go.” You flipped to the page with a bookmark. “We could not wait for Atticus to come home for dinner, but called and said we had a big surprise for him. He seemed surprised when he saw most of the back yard in the front yard, but he said we had done a jim-dandy job. “I didn’t know how you were going to do it,” he said to Jem, “but from now on I’ll never worry about what’ll become of you, son, you’ll always have an idea...”

*********

It was stupid and incredibly irresponsible on Sam’s part to let his phone drain out completely. Even worse, he’d left it to charge in the meeting room and forgotten to check it in the next couple of hours while he met with the children in the boy’s home. He came back to 17 missed calls and 23 text messages- from Alex and Y/N. 

Max was sick and he’d had no idea.

Sam had frantically called first thing after going through the texts. Y/N had picked up only to whisper that Max was better and asleep, and that Sam needn’t worry. For the next five hours, Sam worried ceaselessly anyway. It drove Chase up the wall, but he played his music loudly in the car all the way till Sam dropped him off and didn’t point out how Sam was a total maniac. 

The clock on his dashboard blinked 1:22 as he made the bend to his house.

Sam parked the car all wrong in the driveway, barely giving it a second thought before running inside. He should’ve been quieter, knowing Max was asleep, but the anxiety barely kept his legs moving. He would have continued at the same rate through Max’s door if the scene before him hadn’t made him stop.

On the bed, Max was sleeping peacefully. He was dressed in a thin cotton t-shirt, the lower half of his body was covered in his blanket. That wasn’t what made Sam stop. Y/N was curled up beside him, her arm thrown around Max, who was nextled so comfortably in her embrace that he belonged there. Max’s book was balanced over Y/N’s hip, wedged open on the page she had been reading out of. On the nightstand, stood a bowl of cold soup, half empty, along with water and strips of medicine. The table on Y/N’s side held a cooking pot filled with water and a washcloth lay dipped in it. She’d been nursing him- from fever or the sweat, Sam couldn’t say.

Slowly, he walked up to Max, and very very carefully placed the back of his hand on his forehead. No fever. 

Sam looked about himself. The floor was strewn with Max’s clothes that smelled like he had been sick over them. Sam picked up the clothes and carried them to the washing machine. Inside was already a dry load of clothes that belonged to Y/N and him. So Max had thrown up on her. More than once.

Sam knew from the messages that Y/N had taken Max to the hospital- had her friend, whom she trusted implicitly take a look at his son, signed the papers as his guardian and paid the bill out of her pocket.

The thought occurred to Sam as he undressed for the night. In that last message, Y/N had apologised for signing off on Sam’s behalf, as if he could ever be mad at her for dropping whatever she was doing to look after his son, the way a mother would.

Sam understood now why Max had thrown a fit when Sam had forbidden him from seeing Y/N. It had hurt Sam that he couldn’t be enough for Max, that Max was looking for something more in Y/N. But seeing them together now, Sam could see he had been completely wrong. Max wasn’t asking something more, he’d been asking for what already belonged to him- Y/N’s love. Max had been right all along.

Sam pulled the covers and duvet off his bed and dragged to Max’s room where he laid them out at the foot of Max’s bed, so he’d be sleeping next to him on the floor. An alarm started going off on Y/N’s phone, and Sam jumped to turn it off. It was already 2 O’ clock. She had set successive alarms for every hour of the night, Sam presumed to check on Max. Sam turned off all of them. He was home now, he could take care of it. 

He checked Max’s temperature once more- still normal- and then bent down to place a kiss on his forehead. It was almost November. Max always had bouts of viral or flu in the cold months. He should have foreseen it. If Y/N hadn’t been around…

The expression on her face was so peaceful as she held onto his boy, tears sprang into Sam’s eyes. This was everything he wanted in his life. Everything. Right in front of him. He bent down once more and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn’t wake at his touch, but adjusted herself closer to Max on the tiny bed, the book falling off her hip with a soft thud onto the thick carpet. 

Sam lay down on the floor, thinking of a night very long ago when Y/N had fallen asleep on the  sofa in his house, back in Lawrence. He’d read to her from this very book that night- for the first time. Sam had slept besides her on the floor that night as well. A writer would have called the parallel poetic… but Sam saw it for what it was, shrouded in a mist of uncertainty all around him- a haunting ache inside his soul.

He couldn’t thank her for what she’d done for his Max today- not only would that gesture be insufficient, it would be insulting. No, Sam wouldn’t thank her. Instead, he would check up on Max every hour, make her breakfast in bed, and iron her clothes before she woke up, so she wouldn't be late for classes tomorrow. He would pack her a lunch and kiss her goodbye at the door. Maybe she would see through him and understand how incredibly grateful he was for today… and how tragically hopeful he was for the future, when he could do these simple things everyday without the excuse of an unsaid thank you.

“I love you, Darling,” he whispered. “It can only ever be you.”

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

A/N 2: It’s been a hard, awful few days. I must be made up of stronger stuff than I thought I was.

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated. 

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[jungshookz]

the one with the one year anniversary; roommate!taehyungiverse

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; roommate!taehyungiverse; i don’t want to spoil anything so i’ll just say this is totally sfw!!! 

➺ wordcount: 4.6k

➺ what to expect; “well, um, look! i made breakfast for you. f-for us!”

➺ note; i’m a couple of days late but happy one year anniversary to stuck with you!!! this is the ONE day a year that no one is allowed to bully roomie!tae even though we’ve all made it clear to him that he’s a stinky loser and we hate him <3 happy reading! 

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

making fresh orange juice has got to be one of the top ten Most Difficult Things tae has ever had to do in his entire life

so far he’s spent the entire morning slicing and squeezing and slicing and squeezing and aLL that he’s gotten from like eight oranges is literally half a glass of juice

half a glass!!!!

from eight oranges!!!!

isn’t that ridiculous?? 

and not to mention, it’s so hard scooping all of the seeds out of the juice!!

they always swim away from his spoon >:-(

at one point he was tempted to just shove his hand into the jug and dig them out with his fingers but then he realised that you might not like hand flavoured orange juice

also now his fingers are all gross and tacky and he’s pretty sure his hands are going to reek of orange for the next week or so

but that’s not the point

what was he talking about again?

…oh, right!!

breakfast!!

and how he’s going to have to present a SAD little glass of orange juice to you  

but hopefully you’ll like everything else that he prepared for you this morning!!!

the reason why he got up early was because today is a VERY special day

he’s been preparing for this day for like two whole weeks

and he nevER prepares for anything for two whole weeks so obviously today must mean a lot to him

…it’s your guys’ one year anniversary!!!

one whole year with you :’) and he’s looking forward to spending manY more years with you :’) 

but he feels like the one year mark is extra special because it shows that if you guys could get through one year together, it means you can get through anything together!! 

it’s insane because he never thought he’d last this long in a relationship

well, he never thought he’d actually be in a serious relationship 

but here he is! 

in a very serious relationship and currently loving it 

and you’ve taught him so much!! 

he feels like he’s really grown as a person and it’s really all thanks to you... 

not to be cheesy or anything (it’s his one year anniversary, he’s allowed to be a little cheesy) but he wouldn’t know where he’d be without you 

like after your first real argument he thought that it meant you guys were automatically broken up (you walked in on him packing his clothes up into a suitcase) but then the two of you ended up having a (surprisingly mature) forty minute conversation about how arguments can be normal in a relationship and of couRSE we’re not breaking up you idiot-

he never thought he’d be the type of person to be into cuddling but now he can’t go to bed properly without you snuggled up to his chest

he used to think hand-holding was unnecessary but now he can’t walk next to you without reaching down and sliding his fingers in between yours 

grocery shopping used to be so mundane but now sundays are his favourite day of the week because he loves going grocery shopping with you!! 

it makes him feel so soft and domestic and he nEVER thought anything would make him feel soft and domestic!!!

and he definitely never thought he’d be the type of boyfriend to wake up early to make breakfast for his significant other but here he is!!! making a heart shape on the toast using strawberry jam!!! (he asked for a couple of tips from namjoon)

“tae! have you seen my glasses??”

taehyung perks up immediately when he hears you stumbling around the living room and he sets the jar of jam down before hurrying out of the kitchen to help you

the last time you lost your glasses you ended up tripping over the rug which resulted in a badly bruised knee :-( 

and you guys haven’t gone grocery shopping yet so there are no bags of frozen peas that he can use to ice your injuries this time 

“yeah-” taehyung purses his lips, “try checking the top of your head, moron.”

you stop flipping the couch pillows over to pat the top of your head and a sheepish smile appears on your face, “right! i knew that.”

“also, what are you all dressed up for??” tae raises a brow when he notices that you’re noT wearing your pjs and your hair doesn’t look like an actual bird’s nest, “i didn’t know we were dressing up. should i change out of my pyjamas??”

“what are you talking about?” you snort as you pull your glasses down from your head and onto your face, “i’m going out!”

…

sorry you’re whAT

“…” tae opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t get the chanCe to before you’re whizzing past him and into the kitchen

“didn’t i tell you this?” you ask as you bend down to open up the fridge to grab a bottle of icy cold water, “i’m pretty sure i told you this.”

“you- well, maybe you did, but i guess i… forgot…?” tae trails off before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck

are you for real??

he can’t tell if you’re being serious or not

did you... forget about your guys’ anniversary???

out of the two of you, he thought that he’D be the one most likely to forget the anniversary so this is a huge surprise

okay

well

he doesn’t want to just come out and sAy it’s your guys’ anniversary because he doesn’t want to make you feel bad for forgetting about it…

what if he just… suggested it?

a light nudge?

“well, um, look! i made breakfast for you. f-for us!” taehyung clears his throat as he gestures towards the generous spread he’s prepared for you guys on the kitchen counter

“hey, look at that!” you smile before giving him a couple of hearty pats on the shoulder, “you made breakfast all by yourself aND you didn’t burn down the apartment in the process! proud of you, bud.”

taehyung’s shoulders droop and he raises a brow, “ha-ha, very funny. check it out!!! look at the toast!!!!”

“mhm…” you hum absentmindedly as you scroll through your phone, “i’m looking…”

taehyung presses his lips together and lets out a a breath through his nose

he… doesn’t know how exactly to handle this

he’s never had to remind someone of an anniversary before!! 

he’s going rogue here!! 

and also you’re starting to irritate him a little bit which isn’t a super great start to what was suPPosed to be a special day

how could you forget?!!?

>:-(

“oh! namjoon’s almost at the restaurant, so i have to go now if i want to make it there on time,” you lean over to give tae a quick kiss on the cheek, “but you go ahead and enjoy your breakfast, hm? i’ll see you when i come back.”

taehyung doesn’t even get the chance to say anything before you’re rushing out of the kitchen

and a second later he hears the slam of the front door

and then it becomes quiet

and it’s just him all alone in the apartment

on the one year anniversary of his very first real relationship

tae lets out a little sigh as he leans down on the counter before propping his chin up on his palm

he picks up his fork before poking at the almost-burnt strips of bacon on his plate 

looks like he’ll be eating alone this morning

:-/

“oh my god. you should’ve seen his face!!!!!” you cackle as you clap your hands together like a maniac, “he was like- he looked like- aH i can’t even describe it!!! it was gold. it was gold!!!!” you giggle before leaning back against your chair

“on a scale of 1-10, how good of an idea do you think it was to prank your boyfriend into thinking that you forgot your anniversary?” namjoon shakes his head slowly before taking a sip of his latte 

“oh, a 10!” you flick your wrist, “a big, fat 10-”

“what is the maTTER with you-?!”

namjoon wasn’t a fan of this idea from the start but, to be honest, namjoon isn’t a fan of pranks in general

back when you guys were still living together you always liked to pull little pranks on him every now and again just to keep him on his toes 

like one time you put one of those fake plastic cockroaches in the fridge just to give namjoon a little spOok but he ended up dumping everything out AND bleaching the fridge from the bottom to the top AND he even sat you down for a twenty minute lecture focusing on why pranks are a form of terrorism 

(it’s pretty safe to say that namjoon sucks all the fun out of pranks.) 

so when you brought up the fact that you were planning to pretend to forget about your one year anniversary with taehyung, you weren’t surprised that namjoon’s initial reaction was literally just NO

you thought it’d be hilarious!!!! 

and for the record, it totally was

you wish you’d taken a picture of his face because for a split second taehyung looked like the 👁👄👁emoji 

…you will say that you feel a teeny weeny bit bad that he got up extra early just to make breakfast for the two of you and that you ended up blowing him off for brunch with namjoon

and you also feel bad because when he got up this morning you felt him give you a little kiss on the cheek before wishing you a happy anniversary, baby

and you feel extra bad knowing that the absolute love of your life has been alone in the apartment for the past three and a half hours stewing in his own sadness while you’re over here applauding yourself for your oscar-worthy acting skills

and you feel extra EXTRA bad now that you’ve realised this is taehyung’s first real relationship which means you might’ve just tainted what could’ve been a beautiful memory of a real one year anniversary

…

oh boy.

your chuckles begin to die down when you feel the guilt starting to weigh down on your shoulders

and suddenly it hits you that this prank… might not have been a super great idea…

you... are in danger. 

you clear your throat quietly as you shift uncomfortably in your seat, “…yeah, so i should probably…”

“go?” namjoon raises a brow before nodding towards the door, “yeah, i thought so. i’ll pay, and you go and try to salvage your relationship-“

“oh my god, i’m an IDIOT-“ you immediately get up from your seat before turning to grab your jacket off the back of the chair, “how could you let me do this to him???”

“wha- i said MANY times that this wouldn’t be a good idea-!!” namjoon gawks, “i told you so many times!!!!!! this is not my fault!!!! do not pin your horrible idea on me!!!”

by the time you get back to the apartment it’s nearing four o’clock which means that you basically wasted the entire day pulling off this stupid prank and that you only have like eight hours left until your one year anniversary with tae is over

...

what??? 

you thought it’d be funny!!!!!!

you know, like, ‘haha you used to be mean to me so now i’m being mean to YOU’ funny!!!!

and then you’d go back and be like lol loser you just got PRANKED!! and everyone would laugh and have a good time and no one would be sad because pranks are supposed to be funny

but this prank is the equivalent of him pulling your ponytail and in retaliation you whip out a flamethrower and ROAST him on the spot

you spent the entire bus ride back rehearsing your ‘i’m so sorry i’m an awful girlfriend but also happy anniversary pal!!!’ speech but unfortunately it’s a little all over the place and you don’t exactly have the time to sit down and write out flash cards for yourself

so you’re just going to have to go in there and wing it!

and winging it isn’t exactly one of your strongest skills

you joined an improv club during your first year of uni (you were desperate to make friends so you pretty much signed yourself up for everything) and ended up getting kicked out because you kept on insisting that they give you the prompts the night before so that you could be prepared

so yeah!

it’s time to dust off those fabulous improv skills!

“-if it makes you feel any better, i feel awful…” you mumble to yourself as you jam the key into the lock, “and to make up for this, i’ll take care of garbage duty for a month… no, i’ll take care of aLL the chores for two months…”

the moment you step into the apartment, you immediately feel your hands starting to get clammy

see???

you suck at improv!!!!

and why is it so quiet right now???

tae’s usually here in the living room playing his video games when you come back from class around this time...

and he always rushes to the door to greet you with hugs and kisses and he always tells you how much he missed you!!!

but no one’s on the couch

the tv is turned off

and all that you can hear is the faint whirring of the air conditioner

“taehyung?” you call out hesitantly and you shut the door behind you as quietly as you possibly can

“in my room…”

okay

okay!

he doesn’t sound super upset

maybe… maybe he got over it!

maybe you’re in the clear and you’re not actually a horrible girlfriend

alrighty

what’s the plan again?

1. say sorry for bailing on breakfast

2. say sorry for pretending to forget about your guys’  very special one year anniversary and try to explain to him that it was supposed to be funny but you realised (a little too late) that it was actually kind of a mean thing to do

3. say happy anniversary + give him his card and his present

4. hope he accepts your apology???

5. kiss him?? or something?? that might help

6. eggs

okay well now you’re just mixing your plan up with your grocery list so that’s not helpful whatsoever 

you give his bedroom door three slow knocks before cracking it open just a little and poking your head in cautiously, “may i… come in?”

“mm.” taehyung hums absentmindedly as he continues to scroll through his phone

you step into the room and shut the door behind you before standing there for a couple of seconds

“how was brunch?” taehyung looks up at you for a brief second before adjusting the pillow on his lap

“brunch! oh. brunch was… brunch was good. it was fine.” you clear your throat and reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “yeah. i had, like, a deconstructed burrito thing. i mean, it was basically a taco, so…”

“sounds good. what did namjoon have?”

“oatmeal and berries.”

“ah. of course he did.”

“mhm.”

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you remain standing right by the door

one thing that you obviously forgot to plan was how exactly you were going to approach this apology

taehyung’s made it pretty clear that the ball is sitting in your court but you feel like you’re trying to serve a basketball using a badminton racket

“so, uh, i know that today-“

“i think we need to talk.” taehyung sets his phone aside before looking up at you, “do you wanna come and sit? or are you just going to keep standing by the door?”

he... wants to talk.

okay

talk

fine

he just wants to talk!

…but nothing good ever comes out of wanting to talk, right?

nO

do NOT psych yourself out like this

talking is fine!

talking is a normal thing to do and you think you’re actually pretty good at conversating with other people

also this is presumably the part where those improvisation skills should kick in because your brain reminds you that you’ve been staring at tae in silence for at least seven seconds now

“yes! and…” you trail off before letting out a sheepish chuckle, “i… will sit. on the bed.”

your practically have to pRy your feet off the ground as you shuffle towards the bed before sitting down on the end of it

taehyung gets up as soon as you take a seat and you watch as he makes his way over to his desk

“what… did you wanna talk about?” you clear your throat as you straighten your posture a little

as long as you act like nothing is wrong, everything will be perfectly fine!!!

fake it til you make it, baBY

you’re practically burning holes into his back by how intensely you’re watching him

“about us.” taehyung mutters as he plunks a pen into his pencil cup

about us?

about you and him??

about the two of you???

“about us.” you repeat quietly before your brows knit together, “what about us?”

you don’t like that he’s not facing you when he’s speaking to you

why isn’t he facing you?

why doesn’t he want to look at you??

“it’s over.”

…

…

…

what?

your blood runs cold as soon as you hear him utter those two words and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest

“what?” your voice is barely above a whisper as your fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, “wh- what do you… what?”

taehyung turns his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, “i said, it’s over, y/n.”

you feel your ears beginning to ring as the gears start click-click-clicking in your head and all the puzzle pieces begin to slot together one by one

oh, god.

it all makes sense now

he didn’t make breakfast for the two of you this morning to celebrate your guys’ one year anniversary

he made breakfast for the two of you this morning because he knew it’d most likely be the very last meal you shared together as a couple 

it’s why he looked so sad when you left

it’s why he didn’t stop you before you left - because he was letting you go.

your vision begins to blur with tears as you press your lips together as tightly as possibly in an effort to not completely lose your mind

how could he do this to you? especially on your anniversary??

did he even know today was your guys’ anniversary?? or was it just a coincidence?

your bottom lip begins to quiver and you feel your face starting to get hot

this is humiliating

what did you do wrong?

how long has he wanted to break up with you for?

did he only stay with you because he felt bad for you?

how could you do this to us?

you have so many questions for him but at the same time you have absolutely nothing to say

you’re just… you’re not even sure if it’s fully processed in your mind yet…

the most important thing to remember right now is to stay calm because the last thing you want is a reputation as a crazy ex-girlfriend

“it’s over…” taehyung says once more, clearly oblivious to the fact that you’re practically a ticking time bomb at the moment, “because namjoon texted me two hours ago and told me about your pr-“

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

“wh-” taehyung nearly pisses himself when his pillow is suddenly hurled at him

he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before you’re storming out of his room and slamming the door behind you

…uh oh

maybe he took his prank a teensy bit too far too

see, the moment he found out from namjoon that you bailed on breakfast as part of your evil mastermind prank (once again: namjoon knEW that this was an awful idea from the start!!! he told you so!!!), he thought that he would one-up you by coming up with his own evil mastermind prank (namjoon was not aware of this, but let the record show that if he was aware, he definitely would’ve tried to stop it from happening)

so, naturally: you pretend to forget that today is your guys’ one year anniversary and he pretends to break up with you

they’re… kind of equal, aren’t they??

…aren’t they?!

maybe the two of you should just avoid pranking each other from now on.

he feels his heart fall out of his aSS when he hears you let out a particularly loud cry and he immediately zips out of his room to go and find you

“woAH, woah, woah-!” taehyung manages to move out of the way before one of the couch pillows smack him in face, “y/n, baby, hold on-“

“i can’t believe you- you would- would break up with me on our one year anni-anniversary-!” you blubber as you scramble to find things to THROW at his stupid-ugly-dumb-loser face, “how could yo-you be so cru-cruel?!”

“can you please just- i need you to calm down and let me explain-!” taehyung dodges a little case of tic-tacs and his eyes widen when he sees you going for your textbooks

thoSe are definitely going to hurt a lot more than a case of tic-tacs

“you’ve don-done plenty of explaining, kim taehyung-!” you feel taehyung wrap his arms around you from behind and you manage to pull your arms out of his grip before you start swatting at his forearms, “d-don’t touch me, i don’t want you to to-touch me, LET GO OF ME-!”

“IT WAS A PRANK!” taehyung feels his own eyes beginning to water when he hears you let out the most defeated sob and he hates that it’s because of him that you’re in so much pain, “it was a prank, i’m sorry, i-it was a prank.”

you immediately stop squirming in his grip before sniffling

two seconds of silence tick by 

“i-it- are you serious?” you breathe out 

“so serious. super-duper serious.” taehyung mumbles and loosens his grip around you so that you can turn around to face him, “namjoon texted me an hour after you left and… well, you were pranking me, so then i thought… i thought that maybe i would prank you back…?”

oh

well

now you feel a little silly 

you reach up to wipe away the faT tear dripping down your chin, “so you… you’re not breaking up with me?”

taehyung’s features soften and he shakes his head quickly, “of course not!!!! of course i’m not breaking up with you, silly thing…” he reaches up to cup your face before peppering kisses all over your cheeks, “i could never do that to you - i love you far too much.”

and now he’s just given you a completely different reason to burst into uncontrollable tears

“you love me?” your heart glows golden in your chest when taehyung nods confidently

“yeah, i… i love you.”

he… he loves you.

oh wow

he’s never said that to you before

he’d always get a little nervous when the two of you would start tip-toeing around the emotional aspect of your relationship so you never really pushed it

you were ready to tell him that you loved him like five months ago but you were worried about freaking him out and scaring him off

and to be honest you were a little scared to say it yourself because love is a very strong word to use and it’s not like you can just take it back super easily if you changed your mind

so you decided that you’d say it when tae said it to you

so you waited

and you waited

and you waited a little while longer

you diD let it slip that one time he brought back an extra tub of yogurt for you but you think you did a decent job at covering your tracks (“i love you…rgurt! i love yogurt.”)

(spoiler alert: you did a terrible job at covering your tracks.)

the point is that that was the moment in which you knew how much he cared for you and that he at least like-liked you and that was really all that mattered!

but now… now that you’re actually hearing the phrase from him… it seems surreal.

it’s like you’ve been waiting so long to have this thing and now that you finally have it you have no idea what to do with it 

“i know it’s… definitely taken me a while to say it, but… i finally know how i feel, and…” he pulls away from you before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s whatever, though. like… it’s not a big deal if you’re not on the same page yet, that’s completely fine. this is just something that i’ve wanted to get off my chest for a while now, and i thought that today would be the perfect day to tell you that-“

“i love you too.” you don’t mean to interrupt him mid-ramble but you can’t help that you’re feeling so wonderfully overwhelmed with emotions at the moment!!!!!

taehyung’s cheeks redden a little and he lets out a chuckle, “that’s good! that’s a relief. i’m glad.”

you wrap your arms around his neck loosely and taehyung instinctively slinks his arms around your waist, “happy one year anniversary, by the way.”

taehyung feels his tummy do a little somersault and he can’t stop the stupid grin growing on his face, “happy one year anniversary, y/n.”

tae leans in to give you a kiss but you place a finger on his lips quickly, “promise to never prank each other again?”

he gives your finger a tiny kiss before pulling back a little bit, “we both know you’re only saying that because you know your prank was a lot lamer than mine-“

“excuse- i had it all planned out!” you shove him away before gawking at him, “you were the one who ruined my prank-“

“aw… is someone upset because her pwank sucked absowute ass fwom the start?” tae pushes his bottom lip out in a mocking pout, “is baby gonna cwy again?”

he takes a step back when you take a step forward before he quickly moves to stand behind the safety of the couch

“oh, i hate-“

“nope!” taehyung holds his finger out at wags it at you, “that word is no longer allowed in our apartment because you just told me you love me, and according to the kim taehyung rulebook, that means no takesies-backsies-“

“you said it to me first!!!!!” you bend down to grab a pillow off the floor and tae immediately grabs one off the couch

“oh yeah?? miss i-love-yourgurt-“

“why, you- i’m going to STRANGLE-“

it’s funny because you always thought the mood and atmosphere would be a little more romantic when the two of you finally told each other that you loved one another

but it’s not like you can pick and choose what happens in a special moment like this, can you?

so you’ll take it: your leaky eyes and bright red nose, the scattered tic-tacs on the floor, the fact that you’re currently chasing your boyfriend (of one whole year!!!!!) around the living room threatening to strangle him-

…you’ll take it.

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist