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sungvrhs · 9 months

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Rile Me Up ; Lee Heeseung

Genre; Explicit | Heeseung x Female!reader word count; 6.1k

note: It's my first time writing an explicit content, I don't really know how it turned out😭. This took a slight turn ISTG TT.

dedicated to my bestie @heelvsted HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!

It hasn't been long since you both were tied to the knots of marriage and Heeseung was typically an introverted and a reserved person; always letting pass the situations that could have led to any sort of argument. You couldn’t remember even if you guys had any sort of argument or if Heeseung had ever lost his temper. He usually remained calm and poise which just made you even more curious of his intimidating nature that you heard from his friends but never got to see. There was merely, according to Beomgyu, his very close mate, a chance to aggravate that side of him, which was quite upsetting to you as you were like an open book to your man as she could easily read through the slightest expressions worn upon your face, whilst you here were still not exposed to the different natures he possessed.

But one thing that Heeseung’s sister slipped to you was how he would easily get jealous over the people he loved. “What do you mean by him getting jealous over you guys?” You remember the conversation that you had over the tea as Lee Iseul spoke, “Like a typical man, Heeseung gets jealous when he gets undivided attention, or the lack of interest when he is out conversing with the former person. And since you’re his woman, I bet this trait of his would be much more polished than before.” She spoke while nudging onto your shoulder. It was amusing how you and Iseul had grown closer after your marriage and that now you both were like each other’s ride or die; whether it be lending ears to each other’s rant or taking relationship advice, it was always the both of you slipping in each other’s direct messages.

“Oh you’re totally going to the party on the weekend Y/n. Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Iseul whined, not liking how introverted you had grown due to the sudden change in your ‘MBTI,’ as you labeled it. She didn’t buy it as an excuse from your end as she dragged you back to your room. “Now this is what I call a ‘gathering to gossip girl’ outfit. And your gaze went to what she was holding; a sleek, all black dress. “Oh I won’t buy the simplicity of the dress cause you’re wearing it exactly the way I want.” You heard Iseul speak as she pointed a finger at you whilst you tried to fight back, letting a sigh escape your lips. “But Iseul, you know Heeseung hates such attire.” Iseul made her way towards your jewelry, as she found a matching choker to compliment the pair of dangling earrings and a 3 inch heel. “Oh come on, when did you exactly wear any outfit like that in front of my brother?” You opened your mouth to speak a few words but closed them back as you pressed your lips in a thin line. ‘Right, when did I actually ever wear an outfit like that in front of him.’ “You’re married to him, Y/n. Not kept as a captive that you can’t wear what you want.” It was extremely new coming from her end but you did agree to what she said. You wanted to try it for once and she gave you the slightest hunch of courage. “Besides, who knows what would awaken in Mr.Lee for the day after you dress like a three course meal.” You turned at her comment, feeling your cheeks burning just at the mere thought of it. “ISEUL!” You spoke, hiding your face in your hands as she laughed at your reaction. “You both are a freaking match made in heaven.” And she knew exactly what she meant.

“Iseul, I don’t know if I look decent enough-” You got cut off by Iseul, “You look absolutely gorgeous darling. What a riveting sight for my brother. How did he dare not to acknowledge such beauty?” Your cheeks flushed at her words. Well, it wasn’t that you weren’t used to compliments, but the mere mention of your husband just made it hard for you to accept as a lump formed in your throat. He never exactly spoke it out in words, or maybe you were just a little bad at picking up on hints. You were a little expressive and quite shy type at the same time while he reflected a strange cold demeanor; keeping the conversations to a minimum, not at all a party person, letting his soft smile elicit when he was surrounded by his friends, family, including you.

You took one glance at the mirror as you heard the honking of the car, catching both of yours attention as Iseul speaks. “I'll get it.” You nodded as you followed her a little later after you heard slight giggles of the Lee siblings. “Nah it’s always you who takes the most time to dress up!” You heard Heeseung speak as you made your way out of the room, your heels clicking as they caught the attention of the both of them, leaving Heeseung awestruck at the breathless beauty that stood in front of him, the thin layer of blush lightening up with the natural one as you broke apart the eye contact with him. “Come on love birds, you both can have a staring contest later.” You heard Iseul speak as Heeseung scratched his nape. “After you ladies.”

Reaching the destination felt like a gust of wind as you had almost started to drown in the starry night above your head but it all came to a halt when the car came to rest. Iseul made her way out first as she went to greet her friends as you made your way out of the car, taking a minute to adjust your hair as you felt Heeseung snaking his hand around your waist, making you hault your movements for a bit as you turned to face him, only to find him looking up at you already. His blueberry hair complimented the shades of moonlight as he had that soft smile on his face. “Are we good to go?” You took a quick glance down your dress as you nodded, interlocking your hands with his.

“Y/n! Over here!” You both made way towards the center of the whole but your attention was averted when you heard your name being called out. You turned around as your mouth parted due to the amusement. “Jay! Oh my god!” You made your way towards your cousin, more like your half brother as you left Heeseung behind, letting alone the man confused at what caught your eye. He followed your fading steps, only to be met by slight giggles eliciting from your ends as he raised his eyebrows in perplexity.

“Y/n! My god you changed within a few years. Thank god, otherwise you were so unbearable.” Jay joked, making a face of disgust as you slapped his arm, earning a chuckle from his end. “At least better than you, cousin.” He had his mouth agape dramatically as he spoke. “Oh, you didn't just cousin-zoned me did you?” He had his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he spoke, earning an eye roll from you. Why of course he was your cousin, not until his father and your mother got married after your father passed away, so now you both were practically step siblings. But the thing that kept the boundaries straight was that you both had platonic love for each other. Whilst you both were the single child of your families, you both helped to fill the void of having a sibling to each other. He never turned down any of your childish requests and so didn’t you. But it was about time that after he turned 19, he got a scholarship acceptance to the States and had moved there, applying for the better opportunities to continue his studies and later planned and accomplished on setting his own firm. It was later the following year that you had applied for an online remote job which ended up being from his very own firm. And that is how you both were able to connect back after ages.

Before you had the chance to answer him, you felt a hand softly pulling you away from his embrace as you looked up to find Heeseung, completely void of any sort of cheerful expression. That facade of bliss and joy that he had on his charming face a few minutes ago vanished into thin air. "Hi I assume you're, Mr.Park? The one Y/n talks about the most." You hear Heeseung speak, getting the slight hint of sarcasm dropping down his words as he makes eye contact with you, wearing that facade of an adoring smile on his face, proving that he was, indeed, amused to have met him. You mentally scoff at his actions but you're slightly pleased at finding something that could rile him up. You heard Jay softly chuckling as he was embarrassed at Heeseung's words, yet he nodded, extending a handshake to him as Heeseung returned it politely. It was sure that he didn't have beefs with him for the start but they could turn into one if the conversation made a U-turn.

"I'm delighted to know that I'm familiar to someone as respectable as you Mr.Lee. It's an honor to have her in our company. The walls of this firm are built with the chunks of effort she has put in for the past years." The sincerity of his words had your eyes sparkled with delight, accompanying the warmth that was filled in your heart for him. It was always these small gestures that made you feel like home whenever you were with Jay. And the way he was addressing Heeseung so formally almost had you holding back your laughter.

"Thank you Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park?" You spoke with a slight grin as Jay laughed at your words, slightly embarrassed on how casual he was being with you in front of your husband. “Anything for you cousin sister.” He turned to face Heeseung who had a slight smile on his face as he addressed a handshake to him, to which he gladly returned. “It was an honor meeting you Mr.Lee. I’m glad that Y/n is in good hands.” Jay let a small smile linger on his lips as the older returned it with a warm one. Guess the interaction wasn’t that bad afterall. The younger’s phone rang as he fished his phone out of his pocket, excusing himself from the conversation, leaving the two of you facing each other. The loud music that rang in your ears slowly faded upon the sight of your man right in front of you. It was confirmed that you were a swoon for him, but it just wasn’t the time to let it be evident to him.

You heard the latter letting out a soft chuckle as he tugged one of his hands in his pocket whilst the other made way around your waist pulling you closer as his actions left you flustered. You surely didn’t know what got this new side of him out all of a sudden but all your thoughts were shattered as you heard his breath lingering on your ears, with a soft whisper melting through your ears. "That smile was supposed to be exclusively for me Mrs.Lee. I presume you forgot your dear promise." He pulled back slightly as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear, taking your breath away just by a single gesture as you held onto your racing heartbeats, facing flushing to a deeper shade of red. “I met him after a long time.” You spoke softly, letting your hand reach his shoulder in a delicate grip as you tugged your lips in a thin line. Surely it was evident how you had kept yourself from practically getting into a playful fight with Jay because you were in a formal gathering, but something about Heeseung’s sudden shift in moods didn’t go unnoticed by you. Just as Heeseung was about to say something, you heard Iseul speak, “Oh get a room you lovebirds. Singles would not like you to experience a whole showcase.” You turned to face her, eyes widened at her words as she shrugged her shoulders. With that Heeseung let loose his embrace as you awkwardly fixed your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention that Iseul had gathered on the both of you.

“Girl what was that?” Iseul dragged you in a far corner as Heeseung interacted with his ‘elite 01’s’ as they cheered for the newly wedded couple. “What?” You questioned her, seeming confused at how everything was turning a little different than before, but was it worth to be questioned or to be just experienced? “Did you not see how my brother was all riled up when you met Jay?” You pondered over his words, remembering how he was sly enough to pull you close to him as to which you spoke, “Yeah he was actually indifferent as if he didn’t know who Jay was? Like Jay is one of the most important family members to me and I might have spoken about him a dozen of times-""Well, maybe this is why he felt all jealous, girl, don’t you get it?” you got cut off by Iseul as she raised her eyebrows. You were about to speak but paused midway, taking note of what she said. And then it clicked you. “No way, he was jealous? Of Jay?” You kept a hand on your mouth, slightly shocked at the new discovery as you whispered to her, to which she acknowledged. “No way.” You kept your face in your hands, not letting this opportunity slip by. “Now that you scratched it out…” Iseul had a mischievous smile on her face, as to which you nodded sideways. “You’re not doing anything stupid are you?” You said, as to which she disagreed. “No no, absolutely not my dear sister-in-law.” And now that she said that, you knew something was up in her mind.

The ride back home was nothing but silence; Iseul decided to stay a bit longer with her friends as to which neither of you minded, and Jay, well he wasn’t quite seen around after that last encounter before you guys headed. You could see how Heeseung had his gaze traveling to Jay as hugged you by the side, ruffling your hair as to which you were taken by surprise, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. “Let’s meet again soon, both of you.” Jay spoke as he embraced the elder in a warm hug, as to which he reciprocated the energy. “We will surely. It was nice meeting you.” Heeseung spoke, as you nodded, bidding him farewell as you both took the ride back home. Neither of you had an exchange of words as Heeseung drove whilst you stared outside at the starry night. Nothing seemed to have changed; not a single star as it felt like it was exactly the same moment that you were reliving for the moment. You almost felt like dozing off to sleep as the light brushed of the wind was reliving, until you felt a message pop up on your phone, gaining your attention as you went to receive it, only to find Iseul dropping one of the longest texts that you had ever seen, letting you eyes widen as it didn’t fail to catch Heeseung’s attention.

“What was with Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park.” Heeseung spoke, taking off his coat as you had your eyes fixed on the phone. Not hearing a reply from your end he turned to face you, only to find you engrossed into texting as he poked his inner cheek. You were testing his patience for the day and he was at the edge of losing it. He waited for a few more seconds until you responded. “Well, what about him?” You spoke, looking up to him only to be slightly taken aback by the way he had his one hand in his pocket and the other holding his coat. ‘Oh he looks so fine.’ You didn’t want to make it evident that you were drooling over him so you turned your attention back to your phone. “The mere amount of closeness between the two of you was uncomfortable to me.” Well one thing you appreciated about him was that he was outspoken; he would always let the former person know if any of his or her acts was bothering him in any way.

“Well, it has always been this way Hee, don’t make a big deal about it.” Oh now that you said it, you could feel his gaze practically pinning down on you as you continued to use your phone, letting it slip aside that what you just spoke was nowhere close to how you usually speak to him.

‘Gosh Iseul I swear I'm going to kill you with my very own hands.’ You thought to yourself, mentally cursing her for making you do this. “‘Will you keep that phone down for a mere second Y/n?” He spoke, throwing his coat on the couch as he turned to face you, pissed off at how you had your undivided attention on him. “Mhm I am listening to you Hee-” You got cut off by him as he took pacing steps towards you, grasping your attention as he swiftly took your phone away, leaving you startled as you stood up in front of him. “Hee, give it back.” You reached out for the phone as he moved back, sneaking through what you were doing as you noticed a small smirk appearing on his face, as to which you took a step back, heels clicking the floor. He lifted his gaze from the phone as he locked contact with you, turning to face you completely. “So Mrs.lee certainly wanted me to expose a hidden side of mine?” He let out a husky chuckle, not failing to awaken butterflies in your stomach as you spoke, “No, it was just a literary device that Iseul used.” Well that was one pathetic excuse but you prayed it was enough to convince him that this was not what you intended.

“He let out another chuckle at your words as his free hand went to undo his tie, tensing up the atmosphere all of a sudden as a lump formed in your throat. He tossed the phone down on the couch as your gaze went to it, getting distracted as you failed to notice how he was now standing only a few inches close to you as you moved back a bit, causing him to take one step forth; one step backwards, two steps forward. That is how it was following, only the clicking of the heels of yours and his shoes echoing in the cozy lounge as your back eventually hit the wall, letting your eyes slightly widen as you wished to be fast enough to move to the side, failing miserably as he kept his hands on either side of you, trapping you in between as your gaze went up to look through his mischievous one. ‘This was not what I was expecting.’ Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt him leaning towards your ear, slipping another sentence for the day that almost made you weak on your knees.

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.”

__________________________________________________________

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.” A husky chuckle left his lips as his hand slipped back to his pockets as he pulled back, eyeing you from top to bottom as your breath hitched at his words. “W-What?” You managed to gain back your long lost voice as he took a step back, amused at your flustered reaction. “I said what I said. 20 seconds Y/n. I am starting the countdown. 1…2…” “W-Wait wait! Hee! What the heck do I do?” You panicked as he started his manual countdown as he shrugged his shoulders. “5…6…7…” You turned around to take off your heels but it seemed like luck wasn’t helping. “8…9…10…11” ‘Oh fuck.’ You left what you were doing as you made way to your bedroom, sprinting through the stairs as you were risking your life with the 3 inch heel and the narrow staircase. “12…13…Oh, be careful dear wife, I don’t want you to fall.” You turned to look at him as he took slight steps towards the path you followed, causing you to enter your room as you turned the doorknob lock, taking a deep breath. “What did I get myself into?” You took a few steps towards your bed, still hearing him count for god knows how long before he finally stopped. You took off your heels, thankfully they weren’t a problem this time as your attention turned to the silence that engulfed the atmosphere.

“Hee?” You heard no voice from the door as you turned open the doorknob, stepping out to not find him downstairs. “Heeseung, this is nowhere close to being funny.” You spoke in an annoyed tone as you closed the door behind you, making your way towards the staircase. “Hee-” You got cut off as you felt a hand tugging on your wrist as you turned around and slammed back on the door, a gasp leaving your lips as you were met by his siren gaze. “What the heck Heeseung?” A low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. “I’m obliged to my words but it seems like you weren’t?” his behavior made it seem like he might have been high on drugs, because this was definitely new coming from his end. “Heeseung what is up with you-” “You wanted me to be like an open book to you right? You wanted to discover all of my personalities.” Your breath hitched at the close proximity while his cinnamon breath fanned on your lips, his orbs capturing yours in a ravishing contact. “H-Hee.” His name left as a whisper as you kept your hands on his chest, causing a short distance to develop between the two of you as you almost held back to your breath. “You invoked the element of jealousy in me, love. And now I won’t be holding it back.”

Before you had a chance to fight back, you felt him pulling you in a messy lip-lock, his hand sliding down to pull you closer by the waist as the other took hold of your jaw, fingers softly rubbing down the back of your neck as he took you by surprise. The heart fluttering radiance made way to spread through your veins like a blazing wildfire as you reciprocated the feeling, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Time and tide waits for none, and that is exactly what Heeseung was holding onto as he took his own time to savour the sweetness plattered on your lips, seeming like he would never get enough of it as he took the opportunity to tuck on your bottom lip, letting a gasp elicit from you end as he slipped his tongue, enjoying every inch of the hot chambers as an excited moan escapes his lips. Whilst you were running breathless, you softly tapped his shoulders, causing him to slow down his movements as he broke apart the lip-lock, a string of saliva keeping both of you connected after the slight intimacy. Panting for air as he opened his eyes, finding your amused ones as he slightly frowned. “What?” He spoke, pushing his hand away from your neck as he took his support by the wall next to the door, feeling his own cheeks heating up at the flashbacks of the past few moments you both shared. “I didn’t know you would act all riled up because of mere jealousy.” You spoke softly, finding it witty how the man who was all jealous was now flushing in embarrassment. He had a slight grin on his face as he spoke, “Well you unravelled it after all, there was no point in hiding it.” He looked away scratching his nape on how he got carried away.

“I’ll be more careful in bringing it out more often.” You spoke, placing your arm on his shoulders as you fondly gazed at him, eyes never leaving his as his hands held your arms in an agile grip. “I’d be more than glad to serve you each time.” A low chuckle leaves his lips as he speaks. “But for now…” with a sparkle in his eyes and a hint of mischievousness ligering in his words, you tilted your head in confusion as he lifted you in his arms, taking you by surprise as a loud chuckle escapes your lips, pushing through the unlocked door as he softly placed you on the the spongy mattress. “Do I have your consent for the night, Lee Y/n?” He spoke, seeking your consent whilst it fluttered your heart, welling up tears in our orbs as you nodded. Hovering over you as he planted a fragile kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of compassion and devotion under the shimmering moonlight. “You had no option to deny it either way, love.” He whispered whilst sitting up, undoing his tie as he unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, letting it loose as he crawled up to settle between your thighs as he looked at you, smirking at your flustered state. “Oh don’t look at me like that, help me take this off.” He spoke, pulling you up with his grip as you slightly gasped, with his hands guiding you to the buttons of his shirt. “You are so incorrigible.” Taking your own time to tease him as your fingers traced down his chest, his muscles tensing up as you undid the buttons, letting it fall apart as he got rid of it, revealing the chiseled body underneath, the sculpted abs and the muscles that lined his biceps and shoulders, with his pecs were smooth and well-defined, the veins in his arms pulsated as he moved them around.

His dark gaze lingering over yours as he ducked down, pressing his lips against yours as you returned the feverish sensation back with the same will, draping your hands around his neck to pull him closer, leaving no space for air to creep up in between. His hand fumbled through the hem of your dress, sliding through it as the dress crept up, letting the cold air make contact with your bare skin underneath as it sent shivers down your spine. "You're mine, all mine." He whispered against your lips, the words sending another spark through your veins as youI nodded, "I know." He pulled apart, his hands still caressing your waist as he sat up. "Take it off."

His demanding tone might have caught you off guard as he was never this demanding before. Going along with the word play as you retorted back playfully. "What?" It was bold of you to assume that you could do a foreplay, whilst being under him. as a low chuckle escaped his lips whilst he spoke, his hands resting on my thighs. "Take that fancy little dress off you or should I get the job done?" I smirked at his words. "Why don't you do it yourself, Mr.Lee." You spoke, fumbling with his belt as he scoffed, pulling up the dress as he threw it aside, leaving you in your inners. "Oh, you're way too bold." He teased as he ran his hands over your thighs. Whilst his gaze followed the trace of his fingers on your skin, he spoke, “Just remember my love, the night is still young.” He turns his gaze back to you, flashing you that one troublesome gaze which you despised the most. He won’t be letting you go this easily.

His rousing tone rushed like a never-ending stream as you could feel yourself getting drenched just by his mere touches. But you chose not to give in as you gulped, trying to shove off the shakiness in your tone. It was evident how you pulled apart from the intense eye contact, as his gaze softened, coming forth to place a soft kiss on your nose as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear. “I promise to be gentle, my love. If you don’t want this we can stop-” “Hey, it’s okay I know you won’t hurt me.” You cut him off in between as you took a deep sigh. He seeked for any traces of lies hiding behind your hazel orbs as he spoke. “Are you sure Y/n? I have never rushed things with you so I don’t want our first to be an uncomfortable experience.” The switch from the heated atmosphere to a more admiring, concerning and light hearted made your heart at a little ease. You thought for a while as you looked up to his bambi orbs. “I…I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.” Just as these words left your mouth you heard slight laughter from his end. “W-whats so funny?” You spoke, a questionable frown appearing on your face as he turned his head sideways, a small grin on his face. “Now where did the ‘all bold Y/n’ go huh? Weren’t you the one determined to encounter these moments more often? To be in this position 24/7” He spoke, rubbing his nose against yours as he looked down at you, eyeing you from top to bottom as the actions made the blood rush up against your cheeks. “HEESEUNG!” You spoke, reaching out for the bed sheet, as he held your hands gently, pinning them sideways as he spoke, “Don’t shy away from me, love.” his hands tracing behind your back as his fingers rested on the strap of your bandeau, seeking your permission with his eyes whilst you nodded, letting him take it off, revealing your chest. “You’re insanely beautiful.” He placed a soft kiss on one of your bosoms, letting your heart flutter at his words as a soft moan escaped your lips as he continued, “The most heavenly sight to my eyes.” placing another kiss on your collarbone. “My glamorous beauty.” trailing kisses up to our jaws as you intertwined your fingers with his. “My woman.” he spoke, placing a tender kiss on your lips, full of love and compassion as he pulled apart, admiring the view underneath him. The past few moments that resided with jealousy and lust were now engulfed with words of appreciation and compassion.

He paused for a moment, letting you take a breather before he left another trail of tender kiss down through your body as his hands rested on your inner thighs, parting them slightly as your heartbeats paced up. Letting his fingers hover around your cervix as he let an airy chuckle escape his lips. “Relax love, close your eyes.” You obliged to his words, gripping onto the bed sheets as you felt his fingers encircling, letting your lips fall apart whilst another moan escaped your lips. “Feels good?” He questions, lifting up to see your parted lips as he chuckles, finding it adorable how they were simply falling apart just by his fingers. You simply nodded, too engrossed in the feeling to form words to express it out to him. Before you had the chance to savour the feeling, you felt his pushing one of his fingers inside you, letting a yelp escape your lips as he pushes it in and out, slowly yet pacing with every passing second as you moan a mess for him “Hee-eseung ahh, i-it f-feels too g-good o-oh fuck” You exclaim, eyes rolling back at the feeling as you feel your orgasm progressing forth. “Yeah? It feels cherishing?” You could pick up the hints of mischievousness in his tone yet again but you were high enough on your organism to let out any words to agree with him. “Let go of it, my love.” Those words were enough for you to untie the knot in your stomach, welcoming your arousal on the tip of his fingers as he pulls out, relishing the taste as he licks his fingers clean, hips lips falling apart as he speaks, “Sweet and devouring, just like you.” Your face flushes at his words, letting your grip loosen on the sheets as you hear the unbuckling of his belt, causing you to lift up your head as your eyes traced down to his fingers fumbling with his lowers, getting rid of each and every one of the clothing.

“Lift your hips up for me, love.” he whispered close to your ears, sending butterflies through your body as you granted him the favor as his hands gripped on your legs, pulling them over his shoulders to get a better access. “Let me know when it hurts okay?” He spoke, his tender gaze meeting yours as you nodded. With a single swift motion, he dunked his shaft deep inside you, causing a moan to escape your lips as you held onto his shoulders, thrusting slowly as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses near your orbs. “My beautiful woman, taking me in so perfectly.” A low moan escapes his lips as he tugs on his bottom lip, throwing his head back on how graceful you look underneath him; with the moonlights cascading down to on you, reflecting against your brimming hazel orbs as the beads of sweat drip down from your forehead, your messy locks spread wild whilst your milky skin contrasted the monochrome shades of plum bedsheet. With every thrust he gives, he kisses away your tears, his fingers rubbing circles against your hips, whispering nothing but appreciation in your ears as loud moans continue to escape your lips, with him taking in each and every one of them in a gentle kiss. “Hee, I-I’m c-close.” You whimper, with your words almost leaving as a whisper as you hear him speak. “I am too, just let go when you can.” And with those words he continues to let slow thrusts, letting your arousal hit your peak once again as you let go, your expressions relieving as he his muscles contract. “F-Fuck Y/n, I’m coming too.” He throws his head back, pulling out as he lets go of his organism, his body faltering as he lets his head lose, both of you panting after the intercourse.

“You…you did so well my love.” He spoke, taking deep breaths as he looked up to meet your eyes, a smile lingering on your lips as you chuckle. “You were good enough to make me feel like on cloud nine.” You spoke, causing him to chuckle as he drops next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No, you were the one to take in so well my angel.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You both stayed in each other’s embrace for a few good minutes, residing in each other’s comfort as his hands caressed your shoulders. His eyes never left yours as you broke in a laughter. “What are you staring at?” you spoke, captivating each and every one of his features as your fingers traced his jawline. “I’m staring at someone who reflects my whole universe.” He spoke cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes playfully at him. “You’re so cheesy, Hee. You hype me up for no reason.” You spoke, causing him to let out a dramatic gasp as he spoke. “For no reason?” His eyes widened at your words as he spoke. “You complete my life. If I were to pick that one best thing that happened in my life, it would be getting married to you.” He spoke as he peppered kisses on your face, starting with your cheeks as he spoke, “You,” then your forehead, “complete,” followed by your nose, “my,” and then your lips, “whole life.” letting small giggles escape your lips as you hugged his torso. “You’re mine too.” you spoke, letting the silence engulf the two of you again as he once again broke it. “Shower?” You turned to face him as you spoke, “Only if you don’t go for something else.” He laughed at your words. “No no I promise. It’s just the aftercare.” His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as his fingers grazed through your locks.

note#2: T T I tried my best, I never had an experience of writing these type of contents. If there are any grammatical errors, please ignore because English is not my first language. Feel free to leave comments and re-blog <3

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not-magdi · 4 months

Text

-one too many / Pablo Gavi

Warnings: None, maybe Alkohol

Words: 835

Reading Time: 3min 20sec

A/N

Hey guys, long time no see huh. Well today was the first day I had really a free minute as I'm currently organizing prom so I'm stressed haha. Well I still hope you enjoy my story,

Love y'all Magdi <3

It was around midnight, and you were sitting on your couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, watching some movie you found on Netflix. Pablo was going out with some friends tonight, and even though he asked you to tag along, you preferred to stay in today, wanting to get some things done for work.

Pablo wasn't that happy with your decision, but he accepted it with a pout. He and his friends left around 9 o'clock, so you expected him to be home around one or two in the morning. You didn't mind him coming home late. Pablo is mostly really strict with himself, so you let him have his fun, and even though Pablo told you to not wait for him every time, you still stayed awake (or tried to) so you could fall asleep together.

You were on your way to the kitchen, needing some caffeine to stay awake until Pablo came home. Your head is stuck in your pantry as you hear your phone ring. Confused about who would call you this late, you rush back to the living room, thinking it is an emergency.

Your worry only grew as you saw the name of one of Pablo's best friends on your phone screen. You pick up the phone as quickly as you can.

"Hey Ale, is everything ok?!"

"Hey Y/N. Yeah everything is fine, your boyfriend just had one ... maybe three drinks to much." You heard him laugh over the loud music of the club.

"Me and Fermín will bring him home now, he has been asking where you are for the past half hour."

"Yeah, that's a good plan, I'll see you then. Has he fallen down somewhere already?" You ask, laughing to yourself. You see, Pablo had a bit of a habit when he had too much to drink. And that was totally ignoring where he was going. One time, the two of you were going out with some friends at a club near the beach, and at some point on your way home, Pablo just slid down the little bank that led to the beach. You didn't even realise he was gone until you heard his giggles from the beach.

"No he hasn't fallen down anywhere yet, but we keep an eye on him." You heard him laughing over the phone.

Laughing to yourself, you say bye to Ale and hang up, starting to prepare a few things for when Pablo comes home, like aspirin and lots and lots of water.

Half an hour later, you heard the doorbell ring and before said door stood Ale and Fermín, who held up a very drunk Pablo, who was smiling from one ear to the other.

"Oh god, what did he do?" You ask his friends, who also have a smile on their faces. But as soon as Pablo heard your voice, his head whipped up. "Y/N!"

He wriggled himself free from the grip of his friends and stumbled into your arms.

"Oh, I missed you sooooo much!" He mumbled into your neck, his warm breath tickling your neck.

"But you just saw me 3 hours ago, Pablito." You exclaim, laughing.

"I know, that's way too long."

With the help of Fermín and Ale, you got Pablo inside, with a few little accidents on the way as Pablo kept running into every shelf you owned in this house.

But now you finally have him where you want him to be, and after saying goodnight to Pablo's friends, you start the mission: getting Pablo ready for bed.

"Come on Amor, you have to brush your teeth."

"But I don't want tooooo."

Sighing, you try to think of a way to convince your toddler of a boyfriend to brush his damm teeth.

"OK Pablo, if you brush your teeth now, I will give you a kiss."

At that, his eyes went wide, and you never saw anyone grab his toothbrush faster than Pablo did at that moment. Giggling at his antics, you walk out of the bathroom into your shared bedroom to lay some pyjamas out for him.

Surprisingly, convincing him to change into his pyjamas went more effortless than you thought. So now you were laying in bed, Pablos head on your chest, your hand stroking through his soft hair. Pablo's soft whisper broke the comfortable silence you were in.

"I believed I was promised a kiss Querida."

"Oh, were you now?"

"Mhm, yes."

"Well, I can't break my promise now, can I?"

You grab Pablo's chin with your hand to make him look at you and place your lips against his soft ones in a quick kiss.

"Happy now?"

"Yup, as happy a ever."

"Well then, goodnight Pablo, sleep well."

You waited for an answer, but all you heard were Pablo's soft snores as he already fell asleep on your chest. With a smile on his face, you look at the aspirin lying on his bedside table, knowing he is gonna have the headache of his life tomorrow.

----------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!!!! ❤️

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #fc barcelona #barca #gavi x you #spain

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love-byers · 24 days

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Hi! Not gonna lie I was a bit disappointed that you believe the birthday gate stuff... The Duffers wouldn't have admitted to have made a mistake if that were the case. And most of all, it would've come up in volume 2! Now if something happens in S5 it would just feel like they came up with it during the 3 years between S4 and S5. They can say it was planned all they want, people would call bullshit, and rightfully so. I'm sorry I can not believe how anyone can think birthday gate could be a real thing. Not to mention it doesn't even make any sense. Please bylers let's just accept the Duffers made a mistake!!

i disagree with everything you said

1. "the duffers wouldn't have admitted to have made a mistake if that were the case"

they lied.

the duffers are sneaky snakes who want us to analyze and always be looking for little details. they have literally said there are no coincidences in the show.

so yes, i completely believe that they would go out of their way to lie in order to save the surprise for s5. i mean actually think about it, if it really was just a mistake, why would they not just fix it?? they have the full power to just do a little voiceover edit and boom, problem solved. they explained exactly how they'd do it. but they didn't. 2 years have passed and they still haven't changed it when that little tweak would literally solve all their problems if it really was a mistake.

they lied. they're liars.

2. "it would've come up in vol 2"

since when does every single problem have to be solved in one season?? do you know what show you're watching??

there are hints and foreshadowing all over the seasons. vecna is foreshadowed in s1 ep1 when will's door was opened with telekinesis, and we had no idea he existed until 6 years and 3 seasons later.

in s1 they don't fully explain how will was communicating with joyce. but after s4 everything clicks into place.

they show us that will can clearly hear her and is finding a way to make the lights light up. then in ep 8 they show joyce and hopper making the christmas lights light up as they walk through the byers upside down house. jonathan sees this and asks if it's joyce, and joyce hears him.

that isn't addressed AT ALL in s2 or s3. it is fully explained and explored in s4, when nancy steve eddie and robin are stuck in the upside down. they fully show us how it works and acknowledge that it was how will communicated with joyce.

the creators knew exactly how the light upside down stuff worked the entire show. but it wasn't time for it to be explained just yet. it was meant to come up later on. it's a masterful way to write a story with longevity.

stranger things teaches you to never just write something off. everything is important. don't let it go just because it hasn't been fully explained. there will be payoff.

3. "now if it comes up in s5 it would just feel like they came up with it the 3 years between s4 and s5. people would call bullshit."

respectfully i think you're projecting a bit.

the average viewer who does not spend their time on forums is not going to think that whatsoever. the average viewer is going to think "wait what?!", go back and watch s4 ep 2, and think "holy shit it was planned all along that's so cool!"

like that's such a dumb way of thinking. you have to be a master level hater to see a well written plot twist and think "they just did that to cover their asses" like that's some next level hating

and i guarantee you once s5 comes out the duffers will be like "yeah of course we had to lie you guys were too close to figuring it out!"

david harbour has talked about how hard it was for him to flat out lie to people about hopper being dead. it's really not that crazy to think they lied

4. "it doesn't even make any sense"

....it does.

i don't know how you could think it doesn't make sense

rink o mania day was march 22nd. will's birthday. they have not changed his birthday. his official canonical birthday is still march 22nd.

but no one mentions it. even will doesn't seem to know it's his birthday.

s4 is all about memories and trauma and feeling isolated from others. we also literally learn there is a powerful monster man who can read minds and enter other people's memories, just like el can. so i don't see how it's so outlandish to think there's some memory fuckery going on.

of course we can't explain exactly why or how, because it hasn't been adressed yet. you have to wait for the pay off.

5. "just accept the duffers made a mistake"

i would accept that they made a mistake if they actually fixed the mistake LIKE THEY SAID THEY WOULD. they said "we are going to edit the episode and change it to say may 22nd" and then DIDNT. EVER.

and not only that, they wished him happy birthday on march 22nd 2 years in a row. noah schnapp posted a bts photo on march 22nd 2024 with the caption "Do you know what March 22nd is? It's your birthday. - Joyce Byers"

they are saying "yes it's still his birthday so get hyped for s5 where it'll be addressed" every way they can without spelling it out for you.

i really don't know what more you need

#stranger things #will byers #st5 #birthdaygate #st5 theory #will byers theory

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stop-talking · 7 months

Text

Working on the last chapter of a Mike fanfic, so in the meantime:

Mike Schmidt Headcannons

☆ He listens to total loser music. (Weezer, Everclear, Radiohead, Green day. Mostly 90s stuff.)

☆ ABSOLUTELY had an emo phase where he tried to be "punk" but just ended up looking sad. Refuses to talk about it now.

☆ Uses silly made-up curses when he's around Abby. "Aw, shucks!" kind of guy.

☆ 3-in-1 shanpoo/conditioner/bodywash (and still smells clean somehow.)

☆ Likes simple chores like folding laundry. He finds it relaxing. Malewife energy

☆ Once brought a girl over and struggled to explain the goddamn NEBRASKA poster on his ceiling. He stopped trying with women after that.

☆ Used to get really defensive when people mistook him for Abby's dad, doesn't really care anymore. Accepts it.

☆ Hasn't bought himself new clothes in years. Abby gets a new outfit every Christmas & birthday, and at the start of a new school year. Usually secondhand.

☆ When he doesn't respond immediately in conversation, there's a 99% chance it's because he's insulting you in his head.

☆ Made no effort to reach out to any of his old coworkers after losing his mall job. Self-isolating.

☆ DEFINETLY develops trust issues after the end of the movie, if he didn't have them already.

☆ Surprisingly good cook, when Abby first started eating less his first thought was "damn my food must suck" so he bought a cookbook.

☆ LOVES his recliner. He would sleep there if he hadn't already made a routine of torturing himself with the memory of his brother's disappearance every night.

☆ Pet names. Pet names. Pet names. Call him baby and he melts.

☆ Absolutely DREADING the day Abby gets her first period. He's terrified he'll explain things wrong; plans to eventually get Aunt Jane to talk to her about it.

Throwing in a few NSFW headcannons (18+)

☆ Absolutely a switch. He's a bit socially awkward, yeah, but once he's comfortable with you he has no problem taking the lead.

☆ (but also you can easily make him whimper and beg.)

☆ he's a munch. end of story.

☆ Tits > ass. Not always even sexually, he just likes to lay his head down on a nice pair of tits and rest.

☆ Absolutely REFUSES to fuck without a condom, even if you're on birth control. The few times he's either lost control of himself or been convinced to try cumming inside, he nearly had panic attacks. (Because he knows if he DID get a girl pregnant there's no way he'd abandon her or the baby.)

That's all I got, what about y'all?

#mikeschmidt #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #jhutch #fnaf movie #fnafmovie #headcanon #mike schmidt headcanons #micheal schmidt

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ltbarnes · 9 months

Text

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

#stark u #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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changisworld · 3 months

Note

hi rènee!! hope ur doing okay these days !! <3

can I get han jisung x f reader smut

hannie wants to try out doggy for the first time with reader?

it doesn't have to be long, and please don't rush yourself. if you don't want do accept this request, please don't do it at all

I love you and see you!

helloooo!! I’m doing fine thank you & thank you again for this request!<3

this drove me up the wall & i’ve been TRYING TO FIND ANY SPARE MOMENT TO WRITE THIS SI MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH thank you for giving me this, I hope you like<3

wordcount;2,169

18+ MDNU, smut under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

->Divider by @cafekitsune <3

-Taglist & Anon list is open

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: Jisung is a huge softy, Needy Jisung(obviously), slightly insecure reader, body worship, begging, praise, PIV, failed pullout method, handjob, fingering, TIIINYYY amounts of biting>:3

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You've been friends with benefits with Jisung for around a month after you both met through mutual friends & one thing ended up leading to another.

Your sex life hasn't been boring at all by any means, despite only hooking up six times, but there's one thing Hannie has wanted to try, but you've just been a bit, nervous in a way?

You're under Jisung right now, making out on your bed & your legs are parted, nude except for the plain white cotton panties with a slightly noticeable & his lower body resting in between as he caresses your inner thigh as his tongue explores your mouth.

"Jisung, stop teasing" you whimper, dragging out the end of the word as you break the kiss to ask him, his spit making your lips shiny.

Jisung smirks as he bites his bottom lip before locking lips with you again, not giving you a verbal response but his fingers slowly slide down to your covered core & drags his slightly chubby fingers up & down, making your hips grind against him as much as they can with his lower half still against you & you decide you want to give him a taste of his own medicine & you worm your hand down to his still clothed cock & graze your hand over it, the pressure of your hand varying every few seconds.

You start to palm him over his basketball shorts & you can tell he's not wearing underwear underneath & you feel yourself getting even more wet at the fact. At the same time, Jisung lets his fingers make their move of taking off your panties, the colder air making your pussy clench around air.

"So wet over nothing, I've barely done anything." he chuckles as you just frown up at him, pouting at him as you pull his shorts down just enough to pull out his chubby cock, not even slightly surprised that it's already sticky from his precum.

Jisung slides not one but two fingers into you after getting a good feel of how wet you already are & starts at a painfully slow pace, more feeling your walls than actually trying to make you orgasm & you squeeze his cock in your hand, making him yelp.

"Sungie go quicker, want your cock." you plea at him & he looks at you with a devious look in his eyes, full of lust which makes your stomach do a flip, but Jisung decides to actually listen to you as he pulls his fingers out of you, making you grumble at the loss of contact but he shuts you up by shoving the two fingers that are now soaked in your juices, into your mouth & you start to suckle on his digits on your tongue, spit coating them.

"Say pretty please" he teases as he lifts your shirt enough to touch your bare tits & he lets a glob of spit land directly on your slightly on your nipple, it hardening as soon as it lands, making your back arch into his frame as you swirl your thumb over the tip of his cock, his hips jerking into your soft hand at a slow pace.

"Pleaseee Hannie, want it, so wet for youuu" you beg, your hand picking up the pace around his dick, making him wince as he looks down at you, not the normal, bubbily, shiny eyes not being the ones you're looking at, but instead, his eyes are darkened in the best possible way.

Jisung lets out a groan at your words & leans off of you & sits on the back of his knees & replaces your hand with his own & slowly jerks himself off over you & your fingers start to pinch & rub on your pretty nipples, smirking up at him, admiring his figure as he takes his shirt off, revealing his stunning honey skin.

You reach down to position his cock at your entrance but he lurches his lower body backwards, his dick just out of reach now & you groan in protest.

"Y/nieeee, can we, try itttt?" he questions, raising his pitch at the end of the sentence as he lays his hands on your thighs, kneading your skin like a cat with a blanket.

You look up at him & see the neediness in his eyes, nibbling at his lower lip, him being a bit nervous to even ask, he has no idea why you are on the fence about it! He has asked you twice before, but you just flipped him around & rode him both times before, he is obviously not complaining! But he just doesn't understand why you are trying to avoid it in a way!

You cover your face with your arms, your cheeks going red & you let out a nervous giggle & Jisung returns it, unsure if he has made you uncomfortable in any way.

"We don't need to! But it would feel so good y/nnie, pinky swear!" he chirps, going as far as to wiggle his pinky at you, showing his promise.

"Eeek, it's just, it's scary! makes me nervous" you respond, avoiding his direct eye contact with him, this time, his boba eyes are the ones burning into your face, his fingers still caressing your thighs.

"What?! howww? why would you be nervous y/nnie? It's just us here silly." he snaps back, his voice honestly full of shock & surprise, what on earth would you have to be nervous about? have you seen yourself?

"Just, because I can't really see what's going on & uh, I just, It's not a good sight?" you murmur, almost inaudible as you cover your face again, nervously chuckling to yourself & Jisung quite literally gasps as he leans forward again & moves your hands away from your face & kisses your nose & cheeks.

"You have no reason to be nervous, have you seen you? I'd be obsessed with myself if I was you! you are quite literally the hottest person I've ever even saw, don't feel insecure with me." he replies in a soft, quiet voice, reassuring you as he keeps pecking your cheek, spitting out the words between each one & you get butterflies in your stomach, the fact that your friends with benefits is talking to you like this? You can barely think straight & you instantly believe what is coming from his mouth.

You cup his chubby cheeks in your hands & connect your lips with his again, your body untensing at the touch. "Mkay, we can do it, don't look too deeply though!" you blabber, both of you giggling at your sudden outburst, half out of excitement & also nerves.

"We don't need to obviously, I'm not pressuring you, I'll still happily fuck you in any other position." Jisung says as he crawls back up to sit back on his knees & you're not far behind him, sitting up on the bed & leaning down just enough to kiss his dark nipples & his abs tense up, making his ears go red at the tips.

"Don't worry, I know, but why not just try it hmm?" You purr at him & he can't help but fizzle up inside at your reply & you take the chance to turn over so you're now on your hands & knees & Jisung whimpers at the sight & he shuffles back just enough to bite your ass cheek, making you both giggle like school kids & you wiggle your ass as his teeth still rest on your skin, making him hum against you.

"You look so good like this, can't believe you are so shy about it, your ass looks so good." He speaks out, more to himself but despite that it doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Thank you for trusting me, so sweet." he blabs out again as he pumps his still, now painfully hard cock in his hand before he teases your cunt with it, purposely knocking your clit with his tip every time he drags it through your folds & you keep pushing your hips back against him, non verbally trying to tell him to 'get a move on' & get a move on he does as he aligns himself up with your hole, your juices already coating his tip, before he slowly... painfully slowly pushes himself inside, showing more restraint than he ever has as he does so.

Jisung buries himself out at the base & you both let out a moan in unison & you very quickly realise he is reaching a complete different area in this position & you have to try ground your brain to your body.

"Holy shit Sungie, you're deep." you moan, your body already feeling too heavy to stand on your arms. "Feels so good l-like this, I'm gonna move now, mkay?" he stutters, his brain already going into overdrive.

You quickly nod & he takes this as a green light & he cups his hands on your waist & he starts to thrust his hips shallowly in & out of your cunt & you didn't think sex with Jisung could feel any better, but you were deeply wrong, why did you let yourself miss out on this?

"Jis- go faster, faster" you whine out as you use your shoulder to try shuffle the hair that's now sticking to your face with the thin layer of sweat making your face glow & jisung groans at your words as his hands move to your ass as he picks up his pace & the sound of your skin clapping & sticking together fills your small bedroom, his balls hitting against your clit, making your legs tense up.

"You're so tight, holy shit, yo-you're so stunnin', your ass, so hot." he squeaks to you as his hands fondle your ass, spreading his palms out & jiggling your ass in his hands before kneading the flesh, your skin getting a red tinge to it, making his cock pulsate inside you, which you feel & it feels good.

Jisung somehow gets that tiny bit deeper & it starts to bully into your gummy spot & your arms give out & your top half flops forwards, your face smushing into the pillow & drool starts to fall from your lip as your eyes clamp shut & you start moving your hips against Jisung, meeting his cock half way & Jisung is trying his absolute best to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head to be able to see how much your pussy is wrapping around his cock & the small, creamy ring now forming around the base, sticking & staining his pubes.

"I-Gonna cum Sung-" you stutter, your words muffled by the pillow & your hands & knuckles are turning completely white from how hard you're gripping the same pillow.

Jisung whines at your words & his mouth is incapable of closing, his high pitched mutters & babbles spluttering out his mouth & spit leaks from the tip of his bottom lip & falls right onto your tightest hole before dripping down & that sends you catapulting towards your orgasm.

You let out a squeal as your body tenses up as your legs shake & if it wasn't for Jisung holding your entire weight by your ass, you would have flopped fully onto the bed & probably off the bed .

The way you're clenching & unclenching around his dick as your orgasm washes over you & Jisung lets out a squeak as he picks up the pace, chasing his own release now.

"So g-gorgeous, you have n-no idea, g'na cum, thank you thank y-you thank yo-" he stutters out in a shriek as he plucks up the energy to try pull himself out... but he tried the tiniest bit too soon, the second he grabs his base, his orgasm is already spilling inside you, making him squeal in a needy tone & you whine at the feeling of his cum painting your walls.

Jisung collects himself before pulling out of your now completely soaked, puffy hole & slowly helps you lie fully down, not failing to realise how red your ass now is, so he keeps you on your back & he lies beside you & moves your head to the side so you can actually breathe & he gives you his usual, dopey smile & you let out a weak chuckle at his cute face.

"We can lie like this for a minute n then i'll go get us water, need my breath back." he speaks out, breathless & you just nod before shuffling towards him & you lay your head on his chest & close your eyes, trying your best to not fall asleep as he starts fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist.

#skz smut #stray kids #han jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #hanjisung headcanons #han jisung fluff #jisung x reader #jisung smut #stray kids jisung #jisung imagines #skz imagines #skz #straykids x reader #straykids hard thoughts #straykids imagines #straykids smut #straykids

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senualothbrok · 5 months

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Hello friend!! I have been thinking about undiagnosed sorcerer Gale a lot lately, so I am making it your problem too.

You only gradually become aware of it, and once you are you wonder how you hadn't noticed. Maybe it's the passage of time, each day one step away from the nautiloid and the Netherbrain and all of it--each day that much more distance from Gale's last audience with Mystra. The burden of the Orb hadn't been yours, but it had been heavy enough that you felt lighter when you saw his face as he stepped out that portal. Maybe, like the wounds you both bring back with you to Waterdeep, your mind needed the chance to heal before it could process even more.

More in this case is living with Gale. It had been one thing being on the road, chased from danger to danger; all you'd been able to think those nights you'd collapsed into his tent with him was we made it, with a fervent hope he'd be next to you when you woke and still next to you the night following. Now, you lie down with him night after night and wake up to him morning after morning, and as you let yourself accept that this is how things will be, you start to notice.

The tower is suffused with magic.

It's not only the spells and wards that Gale has woven into the very heart of it, or the numerous enchantments he's created to make life easier, or the artifacts and books you've brought home with you. It's Gale himself.

Surrounded by magic and slow to shed the exhaustion that's clung to you since Baldur's Gate, you need some time to sense the difference, but once you do it's there, a touch on your sleeve or a whisper to catch your attention. When you search for it you can't see it, there's no breeze to stir the curtains or the profusion of flowers Gale brings home day after day. You don't smell that dreaded rosewater or taste cloying honey-sweetness on your tongue. It's a sense that goes beyond sense, speaking to the parts of you that lie under your bones and between your nerves--it's something that escapes your words just as you think you've found the ones to describe it. The sense of him wraps around you like a comforting memory, smoothing its unfelt fingers across your unquiet spirit; the happiness you feel, the life that suffuses you, doesn't compel you but invites you just to be.

It's different when you're in bed together, like tonight, when Gale is salting your skin with kisses. Tonight he's all around you, flowing into and filling every part of you like water, Gale himself spilling over at the edges. He's not glowing but you feel alight with him, woven into him, his threads twisting around yours to draw you close. You're not in one of his illusions--the world around you is very real, if hazy and distant, and Gale's body is hungry, solid flesh and bone against yours. The sensation doesn't vanish even when Gale pauses to ask you what's wrong and you realize you're staring at him.

"I can feel you," you say awkwardly.

"I'd hope so," Gale says laughingly, though he notices your uncertainty and sits up, bracing himself back on his haunches. "What is it?"

You explain as best you can, though every word out of your mouth sounds more foolish and inaccurate than the last. You find yourself tangled in a thicket of your own making and are just about to panic your way out of it when Gale says, faintly embarrassed, "Oh. That--that hasn't happened in quite some time. Years."

I'm so sorry, friend, that it's taken me so long to reply to your once again beautiful piece. I feel like my writing is pretty awful at the moment so I do apologise. I just wanted to get it out though (despite being in a weird creative space and putting off writing a little bit!)

Thank you so much, as always, for your exquisite work <3 ---

You do not need to ask. There is an intuition that exists between you, so that you often know his intentions before he speaks, and he senses your desire before you tell him. You know that part of this comes from the joining of your souls, sealed by your love. But you suspect the other part comes from something altogether different, that sensation that you cannot yet name.

“Admittedly, it wasn’t as innocuous as what you’ve described, back then.”

He pulls you closer, as if he needs your skin on his, even though you feel his being like a flame inside you.

“By all accounts, there was more force to it. It was more of an explosion, if you would.”

You arch an eyebrow. He flashes you that languid half smirk that drives you wild. You wonder if he feels your arousal as his own, like two rivers flowing into each other. He watches you with dancing eyes, savouring your reaction.

“Not that kind of explosion.”

You laugh a little. His lips are smooth and warm as they graze the tips of your fingers. For a while, you fumble for words to explain, ever grateful for his patience.

“It feels like a spell,” you manage eventually. “Even when you’re not casting. Like I’m floating in the Weave, except that you’re the Weave. You’re all around me, inside me, everywhere.”

He gazes at you, fingering this chin absently. And then he nods. There is a kind of solemnity in the gesture, the slight gathering of Gale’s brow. You wonder how long Gale has hidden this part of his nature, or shied away from examining it too closely.

“When I was a child, I learned to control it. But with you…”

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, the heat of his sigh blazing like your pulse. There is a force to it, then, an ache to his longing. You feel it like a flood.

“I want all of you,” he rasps. “And I want to give you all of me. Perhaps that’s why.”

Your open mouth finds his, wet and desperate. His breaths are ragged, swirling into yours like a clouds swallowing clouds. He is a warm bath, lapping at every inch of you. You are about to drown yourself in him when he draws back, so abruptly you feel bereft.

“Does it disturb you?”

The wavering in his eyes almost makes you wince. Traces of his uncertainty, the measure against which he still judges himself. You shake your head sharply, immediately.

“No.” You press yourself against him, swelling with tenderness and desire. “The more I find out about you, the more I love you. Nothing could make me love you less.”

He hesitates for a moment. You feel, as well as see, the last of his doubt fading. His smile is a ripple of light through you, a pleasure almost as intense as pain.

“That’s a relief,” he whispers, as his fingers flutter downwards, and his taste becomes your own.

#drabble tennis #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #ask #gale x reader #gale x tav

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thalialunacy · 5 months

Text

[for the @calaisreno May Promptnation, which is turning out to be like NaNo but with way less stress]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) 10: choice (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Their lives have never been predictable. Which, in some ways, has made them very predictable, John thinks as he stops Sherlock in the hallway with a hand on the sleeve of his dressing gown. 'Hey,' he says, voice quiet. 'Come here.'

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, but doesn't hesitate to lean down and let John kiss him, thoroughly. Maybe even twice.

'Great, thanks,' John says roughly afterwards, backing away. 'I've got work now.'

He really should have known, from the start, that they'd have to steal moments for this out of the chaos they live in.

'Not your babysitter,' Mrs Hudson sings the next day as she holds Rosie's hands down the stairs. 'But I've got applesauce jelly with her name on it. And I'll change her nappy while I'm at it, won't I?' The last is said to Rosie, obviously, who is very focused on the stairs.

John, in turn, is focused somewhere else as well. 'We've got ten minutes,' he says, already out of his chair.

'Eight and a half,' Sherlock corrects, pulling John to him and capturing his mouth easily. John is tempted, so tempted, to let it go too far, but his prefrontal cortex is fully developed now, unlike the last time he felt this sort of heady gut-lust.

Maybe it's because Sherlock is a man, but he hasn't experienced a sense of newness this acute since being in school. And he'd thought, because he knows Sherlock in every other way it is possible to know a person, that this added dimension would feel--normal. Comfortingly similar. Would slot into their lives unnoticeably.

Decidedly not, John accepts some days and a solved case later, just before his backside hits the kitchen table. They've got a few more stolen moments while Rosie's napping on the sofa, and he's determined to make the most of them.

At Sherlock's urging, he lifts himself up onto the table's cluttered surface, then grabs at Sherlock's face to bring him back into the kiss. He spreads his knees without a thought and feels enveloped by heat as Sherlock moves further in between them. He fits around Sherlock perfectly, and it feels like--

It feels like lacing his fingers together with the other thumb in front, or crossing his arms with the other hand dominant. It feels like his own body still, yes, his skin heating up and his lungs pressing for air, but from a literal whole new perspective.

And he wants more of it. 'Do you think,' he murmurs in between kisses, 'that you'd want to be the one--' He pauses as Sherlock bites at his jaw. 'The one in charge?'

Sherlock pulls back enough to give him a look. 'Are you struggling through your English modesty to ask me if I'd like to top?'

John's neck flushes further, and he's pretty sure now it's both from arousal and embarrassment. Which is also new; he's said plenty more graphic things to women without hesitation, but apparently all bets are off when it comes to Sherlock. 'Yeah,' he says firmly. 'Yes.'

'I'd assumed you'd want to be the one doing that.'

'Wait, though-- you've done this before…?'

Sherlock's mouth quirks up. 'Subtle as always, John. Yes, I have. But not with you, do you understand? I want whatever you want. Quite literally.'

John swallows. 'And vice versa. I'm not new-- I mean, to the whole idea--'

'I'm very aware,' Sherlock retorts. And of course he is, aware of both John's various partners over the years and also of his, well, solo habits.

'Alright,' John says dryly. 'Rein it in, detective.' He sobers, hoping he doesn't have to go into detail. 'But this feels… different. And I want you to--to show me everything, to do everything you want.'

Sherlock, as he should have expected, takes this as a sort of delightful challenge. 'Well, then, we are at a bit of a stalemate, aren't we?'

John smirks, relief seeping through. 'Flip a coin?' he says, tightening his thighs, ready to dip back into Sherlock's mouth.

But Rosie, naturally, chooses that moment to wake up, and to do so loudly. She's almost got Sherlock's name down, and she definitely can yell for John like she's getting paid for it.

John groans and leans his forehead against Sherlock's momentarily, or at least intending for it to be momentary but shortly hearing the sound of his daughter shuffling into the kitchen, dragging her favourite garishly plaid blanket behind her.

'Perhaps we'll cut a deck of cards?' Sherlock suggests to him as they untangle.

Then the detective reaches down for Rosie, who is looking back and forth between them. 'Cards?' she repeats once she's in his arms, her tiny person pronunciation still simultaneously hilarious and brilliant.

'Yes,' Sherlock answers matter-of-factly. 'Your father and I are trying to decide…' He looks at John, a glint in his eye John shouldn't like at all. '...who gets to have the first ginger nut.'

John chokes on his tea, the sting going into his nostrils. 'Unfair,' he says.

His daughter seems interested, which is not surprising considering she shares Sherlock's predilection for the biscuit. 'Ginger nut!' she says. 'Me too?'

'Of course,' Sherlock says amenably. 'It's time for tea, anyhow.'

John tamps down a smile, then goes in for the assist, relieving Sherlock of Rosie so the detective can rummage around in the fridge. In their current arrangement, Sherlock is in charge of keeping edible and non-edible items separated. It's a dealbreaker, John had said when they'd moved back in. And Sherlock had complied without too much fuss, much to John's continued surprise.

Though, to be honest, he half expects Rosie would be delighted to find fingers in the crisper.

When everything's on the table and Rosie's in her booster seat, John digs in his pocket and pulls out a 50p coin, flipping it over to Sherlock without warning.

Sherlock catches it, regards it, then raises an eyebrow. 'I can rig this, you know.'

'Yes, but you won't, because my daughter is impressionable and worships you. And while you have many fine attributes, casual cheating is not one I'm interested in her inheriting.'

'Or, erm,' Sherlock starts, fingers casually playing with the coin. 'Any.' It's not a question, but suddenly he's looking intently at John, forehead wrinkled.

John's heart squeezes as he clocks what Sherlock's actually trying to get at. 'Sherlock. Bloody hell. Of course.' He inhales harshly. 'I know I'm not-- not exactly trustworthy any more, in that arena.'

But Sherlock cuts off his self-flagellation. 'Poppycock.'

'Beg pardon?'

Sherlock shakes his head. 'You were seduced by a person who could talk someone into murder with the snap of her fingers. She is literally the most brilliant manipulator in the world, and though I hold you in high regard you in no way had the capacity to overcome that.'

The anxiety slowly eases, though he suspects he'll never fully be free of it. 'You're admitting you're not the cleverest?'

He thinks Sherlock will counter in good humour, but instead he's a bit thoughtful. 'I think that, at that level, one is somewhere in the stratosphere, separated from everyone below. I find I rather like it down here.' He smiles crookedly, genuinely, at John. 'In certain company, at least.'

John's heart twinges. 'Well. That's.' He clears his throat. 'That's good. We rather like you down here. Most of the time.'

He breaks eye contact, instead looking at Rosie, who is happily getting banana all over her hands. He hopes the words will be sufficient. 'But I mean it.'

Sherlock's voice is quiet, fond and no-nonsense at the same time. 'I know. I know you, John Watson.'

John feels a smile slowly cross his face. 'Yeah, that's right, you'd catch me out instantly anyway. How I ended up with the one person I literally will not ever be able to keep a secret from, I've no idea. Birthdays and anniversaries are going to be very, very boring.'

Sherlock's smirk gives no doubt as to where his mind has immediately gone. 'Oh, I doubt that.'

John can tell his skin is starting to flush again. 'Speaking of… Coin flip is right out, so…?'

'Paper scissors stone?'

'No!'

'Why not?'

'Because you'd definitely cheat at that.'

'True. Magic 8 Ball?'

'You know what a Magic 8 Ball is?'

'Had a case where it was the murder weapon.'

'What? Really?'

'Yes.' Sherlock leans in, clearly ready to share the tale while assisting Rosie with her cheerios.

And John wants to remember this, this exact feeling of this exact moment, forever.

[❤️]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #i guess i should tag for #frank discussions of sex #and mild-to-moderate snogging #oh and mentions of Eurus and cheating

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glitteringcrab · 6 months

Text

Morty Prime's personality regression

Some fans (and I'm among those fans) feel like it seems Morty Prime's character development has regressed after Unmortiricken (S7E5).

Like he's more docile... less challenging of Rick... more accepting of Rick's shit...

There are a few possible explanations for this:

1. Morty sub-consciously trying his hardest not to act like Evil Morty

2. Evil Morty planting in Morty Prime's head the poisonous idea that Rick C-137 might commit suicide if Morty Prime is not there to emotionally support him

3. Rick C-137 is not so much a jerk these days. He hasn't messed with Morty with any Vats of Acid, hasn't created a robot version of himself. The worse thing he did was the Valhalla thing.

4. Morty Prime being more understanding of Rick C-137's mental state and finding more patience to deal with him.

But... at the same time, some of Morty's behaviors seemed so out of character that we fans (and I was among those faaaaans) built a whole theory that Morty Prime had been replaced by Evil Morty post Unmortricken....! ("Freaky Mortys Theory", for anyone interested. There are tags with it)

I think if we look a bit deeper in this season's Morty Prime (and the previous seasons) we'll notice some... interesting things.

Let's compare Morty Prime's and Evil Morty's capabilities and personality characteristics across the seasons, shall we?

Charisma

Evil Morty got himself elected:

Morty Prime convincing (little pieces of himself) as Marta:

Morty Prime rallying the trapped Mortys:

Gosh, they even do the same gestures

A "healthy" Morty Prime, no longer burdened by his awkwardness can climb the social ladder really fast:

And of course, the attribute slider:

Intelligence (probably one of Evil Morty's defining characteristics - "you're like an evil Morty, a clever one" as Rick Prime put it)

I'd have to put screenshots of every single scene Evil Morty is in, so let's dig in straight to Morty Prime instead lol

See above attribute slider.

See above Morty managing to become a Stock Broker, totally something a moron could do

Morty Prime casually disarming neutrino bombs, totally something a moron could do

Morty Prime beating Rick at a board game (and Rick freaking mind blowing him over it, the giant 8-year-old)

Suddenly being able to do math, which meant that he always could do math, he just wasn't really motivated to try:

And mind you, this was in Season 7 post Unmorticken, during the time we felt that Morty Prime's personality had regressed, and it was one of the "clues" we fans used as "proof" that this was really Evil Morty.

Of course, Morty Prime has A LOT (like, A LOT) of dumb moments as well. But the capability of intelligence is definitely there.

Manipulation

All of Evil Morty, where to even start lol

Let's head for Morty Prime instead.

Morty Prime presenting himself as super ecologically sensitive to Planetina. I mean, he definitely was on board with ecological activism etc, but he also wouldn't visit random forest fires to help. The liar. Planetina somehow fell for that.

"I'm your little brother, you have to take care of me!" was Morty Prime trying his hand at manipulation with Summer. And this was in Season 7 post Unmortricken, during Morty Prime's "regressed" phase.

The "trickle down effect" with Tricia seeing him ripped by the attribute slider was pretty clever, and manipulative (not maliciously, but still). This was ALSO in Season 7 post Unmortricken, during Morty Prime's "regressed" phase.

"Why would I be friends with a witch" was very fast thinking on Morty's part:

Again, this was in Season 7 post Unmortricken, in Morty Prime's "regressed" phase.

Physical abilities

Lookit Evil Morty flying:

And now look at Mort Prime performing Evil Morty's flying kick, which he definitely couldn't do before Unmortricken:

This was one of the "clues" we fans interpreted as "proof" that this was really Evil Morty, but since that theory has been jossed, the next obvious conclusion is that Morty Prime has been training.

And this was in Season 7 post Unmortricken as well, where we fans have been complaining about Morty Prime's personality regressing.

Extreme self harm as a step to freedom

I'm a hundred percent sure Evil Morty orchestrated his own assassination attempt and willingly walked towards the person who'd shoot him:

And, as another fan pointed (check out the tags!), Morty Prime did this:

Even the other guy, who was trying to kill Morty in that scene, is disturbed lol

Murder

Evil Morty probably has the biggest body count out of anyone, along with Rick C-137... But Morty Prime can get... trigger happy as well.

Shooting Rick C-137 in a fit of rage:

Getting really happy in the "trigger-happy" part during the Purging episode:

(thankfully, it was not played as a joke)

The Death Crystals deserve a special mention. So many people dead, just so he could grow old with his crush ("and people call me Evil Morty") and somehow it's played as a joke:

All those poor dudes in the Narnia dimension:

Desensitization to murder

It seems that any amount of murder is small potatoes to Evil Morty:

In "Mort: Ragnarick" Morty Prime complains about being desensitized to murder, and then Rick makes him kill people repeatedly (which Morty does obediently), during an episode where he has one of the highest body counts:

Most of the people he keeps killing are immortal Viking ghosts who literally live to die (lol) but Morty still is the one committing the murder, and he even tells Rick not to kill the Vatican guards (who die for real) every time, which I think Rick actually agreed with, thankfully...

Needless cruelty

There was no need for this, Evil Morty!!!! It served zero rational purpose!

Oh, you're gonna think. Morty Prime is not like that. Sure, he kills people, but he never draws it out.

Think again:

"Careful, Ethan. Your s'more is burning."

Ethan simply dumped Morty's sister!! That's not good enough reason to turn him into a deformed monster, Ethan was just being an immature teenager!

...Not to mention Morty Prime literally tried to roofie Jessica (not exactly cruel, but... quite evil).

Morty (!!!) suggesting they use brainwashed clones to solve the spaghetti shortage, and holding his hands behind his back while he did it, freaking Evil Morty style (also EVIL).

Okay, I'm gonna stop here and say that I don't mean to stretch things. We've known Morty Prime for 7 seasons and the amount of times he has been manipulative, trigger-happy or evil can each be counted on one hand, while those same characteristics are pretty much defining of Evil Morty. The potential exists in Morty Prime, but it becomes reality in its most extreme form in Evil Morty.

In addition, there are some differences between the two:

Evil Morty has patience, single-minded focus and the ability to come up with incredibly convoluted schemes (it's... almost like he spent unimaginable amounts of time trapped as a prisoner in his own body, unable to act, unable to do anything but wait and plan), while it also seems he is devoid of empathy (cough), forgiveness, or the desire for connection (I will probably make separate posts for the those two).

POINT 1: I suspect that their differences can be accounted for if the theory that they grew up differently is true; one in the safety of his home and family, the other in the uncertain and hostile environment of the Citadel.

Morty Prime never had to be manipulative, because he could always just ask to get what he needed. His more violent tendencies get suppressed by the humane examples his (non-Rick) family members set. He tries to do the right, moral thing 99% of the time because he grew up learning the virtues of kindness and compassion, and did not get brainwashed by a hundred different versions of his nihilistic grandpa into discarding universes and people like single-use coffee cups.

I suspect that Morty Prime and Evil Morty might be WAY too similar, and it's just that Evil Morty's brain is in constant overdrive survival mode, while Morty Prime is in normal kid mode.

I suspect that the parallel between Morty Prime and Evil Morty is meant to be a story of "nature vs nurture" and the effects of long-term abuse and neglect can have on a child.

POINT 2: I suspect that the series' climax might revolve around a revelation that Rick was wrong all along:

That Morty Prime (and any Morty) is just as clever as any Rick, and he doesn't get to show his brilliance because he's just a young child who can do stuff like waste time playing videogames and date girls and hung around with his family instead of honing every skill he has into a deadly weapon just so he can survive.

I feel like this is a revelation that has been building up for a while:

(and poor Morty doesn't react in this scene during Rick's admittance, because of course it doesn't concern him: he is just an idiot, he is not "intelligent in a different way" like Bigfoot is)

POINT 3: While it may be true that Morty Prime has been more... docile and patient and forgiving of Rick post Unmortricken, the way I see it, he's also physically training, is becoming more manipulative and we have more proof that he's actually really smart.

...So, I wouldn't call his personality change a "regression"...

...more like... a shift... towards higher forgiveness and tolerance and towards cultivating his capabilities.

Which, if Rick C-137 screws up and does something to betray Morty Prime's unconditional love, would bode really badly.

#evil morty #rick and morty #morty smith #morty prime #eyepatch Morty

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elliethejellie · 1 year

Text

There Are Two Types of Dancers

A oneshot with both Fool and Sol from the renowned @venomous-qwille story - Ghost in the Machine

I've been working on this for so much longer than I expected to pfff- I just wanted it to be perfect for Qwille and all the readers of GITM! A bar has been set with that story and I wanted to at least reach it hahah-

Fool and Sol have become my personal favorites so far (although I'm sure it'll change as time goes on and I learn more about the others). Sol was rather easy to write in my opinion. But my lordy - Fool was a challenge! A fun one, at that, but still! I'm glad I got to challenge my writing and receive some amazing constructive criticism from others as I went!

Also - this is entirely self-indulgent hahah! I just love dancing scenes and I'm too impatient to wait for the possibility of such a scene happening in the story! So here you go, and I hope this lives up to your standards Qwille!!!

Read it on AO3 Instead -> Here

Or read the oneshot under the cut <3 Enjoy!!

*****

Fool definitely fascinated you.

His odd ramblings that always either ended in your confusion or laughter were somewhat... endearing.

Something told you that he didn't spend as much time with the others as he did with you. He seemed to make it a point to bring attention to his loneliness in jest when you would show up to the storage shed looking for different things. He would pursue a conversation with you every time without fail - whether with friendly banter or mocking jests or cheeky jokes all depended on the day. But each instance would still somehow end with you staying longer than you originally intended.

This time had been no different. You had allowed him to convince you to linger and play a game or two of mahjong (although you were pretty sure he only offered the particular game because he knew it had become your favorite). He used the excuse of not letting you walk back the short distance to the house in the rain - which you didn't wholly disagree with. Without your jacket back from Sol (or a replacement, at this point), you really didn't want to deal with the chilling water soaking through your clothes again. So you allowed him to entertain you with a few rounds.

Now you rested within the nest of pillows that filled the resin chariot as light thunder rumbled overhead - watching curiously as Fool shuffled a deck of cards with practiced precision. He was humming a tune you didn't recognize - but it filled you with memories of running around with friends and stuffing your mouth full of pink fluff that melted when it touched your tongue. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, given that you didn't want to interrupt him.

"Hasn't anyone told you that staring is rude, Sweetling?" he piped up suddenly, setting the cards up for a game of solitaire. You scoffed.

"I get told by Sol practically every day." The bot's eyes upturned into crescents, amusement sparkling in the dim lighting.

"My, my, then we'll have to fix that staring problem of yours," he fired back. " It can come across as terribly impolite. Although you are rather lucky I am so gracious as to accept your presence as a most humble apology." You mocked a scoff, fighting the grin that threatened to pull at the corners of your mouth.

"I think the circumstances of my arrangements should allow me some breathing room in that regard."

Fool didn't miss a beat with his response. "Oh, so you find me alluring enough to stare~?"

"Don't flatter yourself. The others are just as interesting as you."

The bot placed a hand to his chest as he did every time you managed to get in a silly insult. "Why must you always be so very cruel," he cried, using his other hand to dramatically scatter the cards on the table as he fell backwards to the floor. You couldn't help the giggle that fell from your lips.

"Oh no, have I broken you finally?"

He lifted his head slightly to peer at you over the edge of the low table. "Finally?" he repeated, sounding somewhat discouraged. "Is that really your harrowing intention? To break me down with your beautiful voice spewing malicious language until I am nothing more but a hunk of wires and metal? All so you can woefully put me back together and claim me as your own charming creation?"

"Who knows?" you asked mysteriously. He dropped his head back down.

"Hm... Would this be the right time to inform you that I've been keeping track of your insults to compliments ratio? I think it tells quite a lot about your character."

"Oh really?" You didn't need to be sarcastic - you were genuinely interested. "And what conclusion have you come to about my 'character'?"

He sprung up suddenly - startling you a bit further into the nest of pillows. He grabbed at his baton - spinning it around a few times before settling on placing the moon side in front of his face. "You're a terrible friend. Naughty. Rude."

"Surprising." You rolled your eyes and resettled yourself on the edge of the chariot, looking down at the mess he'd created with the cards. "How ever shall I make it up to you?"

There was a pause from the jester bot as he dropped the baton from his face and smiled. Mischief sparkled in his expression. "Oh, I thought you'd never grace me with such a question, Sweetling."

Before you had the opportunity to object, you were being lifted from your comfortable resting place to stand in the clear area in the center of the shed (which wasn't very much space, honestly). "Fool," you said, irritation clinging to the edge of your voice as you tried to regain your balance.

"Hm?" he hummed, listing his head to the side in an attempt to feign innocence. "Is something the matter? You're wearing quite the nasty scowl upon that pretty little face of yours." You placed your hands on your hips.

"Fool."

"Have I told you just how much I adore hearing my name from your beautiful lips, Sweetling?" He snatched up one of your hands and brought it to his mouth, ignoring your tone. He bowed his head down and spread his free arm out to the side. "Dance with me."

Seriously?

"I don't know how to dance."

He lifted his faceplate enough to peer at you from the tops of his eyes. "Ah, and neither do I," he whispered, before standing back to his full height and emitting that musical laughter you had come to adore. He tilted his head down and gave you a cheeky smile. "But you, dearest, had so graciously promised to make it up to me~"

"I didn't promise you any- Ah!"

Fool swept you away through the door of the shed before you could protest. Before you knew it, you were standing in the backyard as light rain poured down on the two of you.

"I thought you didn't want me to walk in the rain?" you questioned, quirking an eyebrow up at the bot - already feeling the chill of the water on your back.

"Correct!" he blurted, tugging you towards him with the hand that still held yours. You crashed into his chest embarrassingly. "But I never said anything in relation to dancing in the rain," he corrected, spinning around in a circle with you pinned to his body.

"Fool! Squishy human, remember?! Easily breakable!" you exclaimed. Fool released you immediately - drawing his hands away like a child discovering a hot stove for the first time. You didn't give it much thought, though. You were too busy trying to catch your breath.

"You need to work on your breathing, Sweetling. Hyperventilating in such conditions can give you a nasty bout of dizziness," he tutted, snatching up one of your hands again. He looked at you expectantly.

"You're not going to let me go back inside until I dance with you, huh?" you questioned once you stopped heaving. His smile stretched wider as he shook his head. It must've been contagious, because you chuckled and let a soft smile lift the corners of your mouth. "Fine. But how do you expect me to dance if we have no music?"

The bot tugged you again - gentler this time. You let him spin you around and dip you down so you were leaning back in his arms, looking up into his monochromatic eyes. "Ah~ But we need no accompaniment when the sound of your voice is already music to my ears, Sweetling," he mused. Then he lifted you back up and grasped your waist. "Can't you hear it now?" he called up into the downpour. "I think my sweet is bound to sing again soon!"

A giggle fell from your lips as you watched him. He mocked a gasp and looked back down to you. "Why look at that, the music is back! Now we must dance before it disappears again!"

Laughter overtook your body now as you joined him - dancing lively in the chilly rain. You almost didn't notice the water slowly drenching your clothes. Somehow, Fool was actually a pretty good dancer in your opinion. He kept you moving - swiftly pulling you closer to him and pushing you away with the same precision he had when shuffling cards. It was fun all the way up until you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

When you turned towards the house to investigate, you barely saw the curtains being tugged back to the closed state you were used to seeing them in. The only thing you could make out in the blur was a low, glowing blue. Maybe you hadn't seen anything. The rain was really starting to come down now, and it wasn't exactly like you were standing still.

Fool must have noticed it, too. He had slowed the speed in which the two of you were dancing and pulled you closer to him again - although this time, he brought your hands up to rest on his shoulders and then dragged his own down to rest upon your waist. "There are many a people I've danced with in my lifetime," he started. You swore he shot a smug glance towards the house, but it could have just been your imagination. You were starting to feel the chill of the rain through your wet clothes now that the two of you were merely swaying from side to side, and it was proving to be rather distracting. "But you, my Sweetling, have been the most pleasurable to enjoy such a spontaneous moment with."

A shiver forced its way through your body. "Uh, thanks?"

The bot stopped his swaying, took hold of one of your hands, and dragged you back towards the shed. "Now - if you'd so please - I believe we were just about to indulge in a marvelous game of Go Fish, were we not?"

You rolled your eyes to the best of your ability despite Fool not even looking your way. "I believe you were setting up a game of Solitaire, actually."

"Oh my, was I now?" he asked as the two of you reached the door to the shed. He held it open for you. "How very forgetful of me. I guess my distraction must have been a rather breathtaking one to indulge in for me to forget such an important detail."

You felt your cheeks warm despite your steadily dropping temperature. "I guess so."

*****

The silence between a stare can relay a million emotions even with no words exchanged.

One stared from the window. One stared from the rain.

*****

"I saw the two of you," Sol piped up, keeping his hands clasped behind his back as he watched you work from the other side of the workbench. Your brows knitted together as you tried to decipher what he could possibly be talking about. A moment of silence passed as you hoped he would elaborate, but he didn't.

And then you remembered - the pull of curtains in the kitchen window and the blur of the glowing, pale blue you saw darting behind them. At the time you thought it to be nothing but a funny reflection from the gloomy lighting, but now...

"Are you talking about when Fool and I were dancing in the rain?"

A sound reminiscent of a scoff emitted from the bot as he leaned away from the work table, dragging your gaze from your work to look at him.

"You call that dancing?" he asked, listing his head to the side ever so slightly. The faint sound of mechanical clicks and internal fans emitted from his body - making his tauntingly benign smile take on a sinister shadow. "The imbécile didn't stay in time at all, and you kept tripping over your feet." You shook your head and went back to your work.

"What, thinking you can do better?" you asked, offended by his words. He grew silent, but you thought nothing of it. You didn't have time to appease Sol's unusual sudden interest in your time spent with Fool. You had to finish this, and his questions were only going to distract you and cause some sort of mistake in your meticulous work. So you turned back to your task at hand.

That was, until your wrists were being seized by the bot. You opened your mouth to object, dropping the tools from your clutch as you were dragged away from the table and to the only free spot in the room. What the hell was with these bots and their lack of understanding in regards to personal space? "Sol, what the fu-"

"A basic waltz is simple," he interrupted. He placed one of your hands on his shoulder, grasped your other hand with his, and then rested his free hand on your waist. "It starts with a box step."

Your brain fumbled for words as he gently pushed you backwards. Why was he teaching you how to waltz? Dancing in the rain with Fool had been a spontaneous decision with a rather large lack of judgement - leaving you freezing and shivering by the time the two of you had gone back inside. There wasn't anything proper about said dance, and you especially hadn't anticipated anyone watching it take place to begin with.

"Are you even paying attention?" Sol's voice pulled you from your thoughts as you stepped on his foot.

"S-Sorry," you muttered. Why were you sorry? You didn't even ask for this!

"You're not stepping in the right direction," he said simply. "This is a 3/4 time signature dance, not 4/4. You have to focus."

He started over, pushing you backwards yet again. You let your right foot fall behind you while he pulled you gently to the left, your left foot following suit. When he pulled you forward, you were unsure of which foot to move first, so you hesitated. Ungracefully, you tripped forwards and almost smacked your head against his chest.

A light blush defiantly dusted your cheeks as he sighed. You started over yet again, and your competitive nature made itself known with the bubbling frustration in your stomach. If he said it was simple, why were you struggling so much?

After a few clumsy tries, you eventually understood the rhythm. Backwards, sideways, together. Forwards, sideways, together. Repeat. You were by no means perfectly in time with Sol's feet, but he silently continued nonetheless. The only thing that messed you up was when he brought the hand that rested on your waist up to your chin.

He tilted your face up until you looked into his eyes and were no longer staring at your feet. "Darling, it's considered rude not to look at your partner while dancing."

The same frustration from before returned as you tripped over your feet again. "But I can't know where your feet are going to be if I'm looking at you," you huffed, avoiding his gaze.

"Relax. And focus." His smile loomed eerily over you as you looked up into his eyes nervously. There had to be some kind of trick to this, right? He talked about it as if it were the easiest thing in the world, yet here you were, unable to focus on the movements of both your feet and his at the same time without looking.

You shoved your frustration back down and drew in a breath. Backwards, sideways, together. Forwards, sideways, together. Repeat.

It took longer to get your feet to move the way you were telling them to, but once you ran through the steps three full times without messing up, you smiled.

"I'm doing it!" you said excitedly, almost tripping up at the deviation from your concentration. Sol didn't praise you, though, instead informing you that there was a lot more to it than what you were just starting to get a grasp on.

"You have to turn counterclockwise with every half box," he said, pulling you to the left. You couldn't remember what step you were on, letting out an exasperated breath as you kicked his ankle.

"Gah- Why can't we just be happy that I learned the beginning and leave it at that?" you cried, attempting to pull your hands away from him. But his grip on you tightened enough to make you look up into his eyes fearfully for a moment. Memories of your first encounter with the bot danced across your vision - bringing the ghost of an ache to your wrist. He loosened his grip at your expression, but still refused to let you go.

"There are a lot of things I let slide when it comes to you. But this, I simply will not let go." You felt your mouth go dry.

"What do you mean you let a lot of things slide? You're not my parent," you retorted, narrowing your eyes to accompany an annoyed glare. There was a long moment of silence after that as he just stared at you - perfectly still as his unchanging smile sent a shiver down your spine.

But then he was pushing you backwards again, restarting the steps and ignoring your comment entirely. You gave up, simply redirecting your attention on the steps you had to implement a counterclockwise turn into. You figured that it would be easier to learn had there been music playing or even a metronome sounding off your beats, but you were too stubborn to ask.

It took an embarrassingly long time to relearn the steps with the turn. But once you started to understand the pattern, it seemed to click in your head where your feet were supposed to go and when. You held Sol's gaze a little more confidently after that - even smiling at one point at the realization that you had been going on fifteen or so rotations without tripping or hesitating once.

Sol's blue eyes seemed to flicker for a moment when you smiled, but it could've just been the dim lighting of the workshop playing tricks on you as the two of you spun around. You actually felt yourself starting to enjoy the simplicity of the dance - wondering if there was anything else you were supposed to add.

When Sol stopped and dropped his hands from you suddenly, you frowned. "Wha- Did I do something wrong?" you asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "I thought we were doing pretty well."

"I was doing well," he countered. "You were only following my lead."

You scoffed and settled your hands on your hips. "Why can't you just be nice for once and compliment me?"

There was that silence again. But Sol's gloved hand shifted as he clenched it into a loose fist, filling the quiet space with the soft sound of silk on silk. You swore you could see emotions shifting behind his pale eyes for a fleeting moment, but you couldn't decipher which ones. As the quiet stretched on longer, you felt your frustration dwindle - hesitant anxiousness replacing it.

"Nevermind," you mumbled, pushing past him to your work table. You took your seat again and felt the frustration boil your blood as you fought the blush that warmed your cheeks. There was no reason for it. Sol was just being the same bot he'd been since you showed up - cold and blunt and honest.

So why did his refusal to compliment you make you feel so... bad?

You picked the tools back up and tried to distract yourself from the sunbot as he approached the side of the work table again, hands clasped behind his back once more. You ignored him - continuing with your task. After a bit, you started to hum to yourself while you worked. The melody was familiar, though you couldn't recall where you'd heard it. But soon you became so engrossed in your work - paired with your curiosity as to the tune you were emitting - that you almost completely forgot that Sol was even in the room with you.

"Do you prefer his company over mine?"

The question startled you to silence. You held your gaze to the table, though, as his words echoed in your mind. Was he referring to your time spent with Fool? You honestly hadn't put much thought into comparing the bots with each other besides physical appearance. There just wasn't a need - they were all different to you. Far too different for comparisons.

Your lack of a response must've struck a nerve, because Sol placed both of his hands on the table and leaned forwards. As you looked up at his smiling face, goosebumps erupted down your arms as a small reminder of the lack of warmth in the workshop. A faint click, click sounded from him before he spoke. "You were humming the same dreadful tune he does."

So that's why you'd sworn you had heard the tune before.

"I don't think I can answer your question without eliciting some kind of negative response from you," you quipped, peering back down. "I'd prefer if you would just let me work."

Apparently, that was the wrong answer as well.

Sol rounded the table in an instant - spinning your stool around and pressing you back into the wood's edge as he loomed over you. A gloved finger hooked under your chin and forced your eyes to meet his - that same unnerving smile burning its image into your mind. "Oh mon dieu," he tutted, the disappointment in his tone making unease cloud your mind. It almost felt as if a slow finger dragged its way up your spine, eliciting more goosebumps across your body. "Ma poupette, what ever are we going to do about your poor manners?"

*****

A/N: I wanted to leave what happens next up to your imaginations~

But ahhhhh how did I do?! Is it good?? Or is it GOOD??? I'm literally shaking right now as I'm typing this because I'm so excited and nervous for everyone to read this rahhh-

But as always, likes, comments, kudos, and reblogs are VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!! Stay sweet, my lovelies~!

#gitm #gitm fool #gitm sol #gitm oneshot #tags? what are tags?

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