#but recently i thought about getting back into the p-word and making one plush and clay but especially the first one

[hellfirexhoe]

The Pool Boy - Eddie Munson x BoredHousewife Reader

@likedovesinthewnd thank you for being the real brains behind this filth <3

Warnings: 18+ content, minors this isn't for you so fuck off, cheating, bored housewife x poolboy trope, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v sex

3,278 words

Masterlist

The hot sun beats down on you, lounging in a sun chair, dark sunglasses obscuring your eyes. An open book rests at your thighs, you look as though you are deeply engrossed, but your eyes are elsewhere, shamelessly ogling the pool boy your friend had recently hired. Tall and slender, with long dark curls and a few tattoos dotted about him, honestly, if you looked up pool boy in the dictionary a photo of this guy would be the last thing you’d find. And yet, the way he moves so confidently as he cleans the pool floor, the way his muscles flex and relax under his vest, it all just looks so right. 

Eddie, you were told his name was, with a nod of your friend’s head towards the figure by the pool as she handed you an icy margarita in the kitchen. 

“Never seen him before.” You comment, sipping at your drink, relishing the coolness of it. 

“Yeah, well, he’s cheaper than what the other guys charge and so far hasn’t urinated in my garden, so he’s a winner.” Your friend had joked as you both stepped out to the sun loungers. 

She left you alone to fix more drinks, so you had pulled out your book, not comfortable to make conversation with Eddie, nor do you have any idea what you’d even say, ask him his favourite brand of chlorine? Please. You struggle not to bite your lip and give yourself away as you watch droplets of water running down his soft skin, and then as though he can hear your thoughts, Eddie turns around, a devilish smile on his face,

“Whatcha reading?” You snap out of your trance and shake your head slightly, almost disorientated,

“Um, what, sorry?” You squeak out the words as he sets down his net and strolls over to you,

“The book. You’re so engrossed in it I figured it's either a really good book, or you’re straight up reading porn.” 

You cough a little, caught off by his brashness and quickly grab for your glass sipping down melted ice, you hold up the book so the cover can be seen while Eddie tries not to laugh, he reads the cover and nods,

“The Shining? Wouldn’t take you for a horror fan, considering how much I make you jump. I’m not that scary am I?” The only jumping you want to be doing right now is jumping his bones, and it seems like he’s flirting with you. You push that thought aside, he’s not flirting, just wants me to hire him. 

“No, you’re not scary.” Sexy, perhaps. “Who doesn’t love a good scare?”

“I don’t love a scare.” Your friend re-emerges from the kitchen, sunglasses on her forehead showing pale skin around her eyes where the sun has not hit, she looks pointedly at Eddie and back to the pool. Eddie nods and gets back to work without another word.

“You don’t have to be so rude, he can take a break for a few minutes.”

“I’m paying him to clean my pool, not host a book club in my garden. You want to pay for his conversation? Be my guest.” Your friend grabs her bag off the floor and rummages until she finds a business card, it's fairly plain just a phone number and the words “Munson Landscaping”. You plush the card from your friend’s manicured fingers and settle back with another drink. Careful to not let your gaze wander back to Eddie.

When you get home, it’s late and yet still you’re greeted by an empty house. You’d married young and for money. And now you are left with the distinct feeling that you might be wasting your best years on someone who deep down you share no meaningful connection with. Your parents of course had been delighted, it was a step up in the world for you and meant they could look forward to a comfortable retirement since you were their only child. You wander into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you stare out of the window to the pool. A woefully immaculate pool. One that definitely does not need a pool boy to attend to it.

Maybe it's the slight buzz that does it, maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis. But you step out into the garden and find the waste bags the gardener would be collecting in the morning. Dumping all of them into the pool would be ridiculous. So you settle for one, the heaviest, mind you. You cast a quick look around and quickly rip the bag open, tossing the contents into your pristine pool. You look over your handiwork as you dispose of the bag.

“Yep. I’m losing it.” 

You walk back into the house, shutting the cool night air out and shivering slightly, you’re still only clad in a bathing suit and cover-up. You rummage through your bag and locate the business card you were given earlier this afternoon, you practise speaking a few times, trying to sound casual and not desperate and once your semi-confident you can talk like a person you dial the number, twisting the cord between your fingers as you hear the dialling tone. Your heart sinks into your stomach when an older voice answers,

“Munson Landscaping, Wayne speaking, how can I help you?” 

“Oh, uh um hi. Is Eddie available?” You hear a changing of hands and a muttering from the older voice identified as Wayne.

“Eddie speaking.” 

“Oh, hi Eddie, this is Miranda’s friend from today.”

“Oh hey, Miranda gave you this number?” You nod, and then remember that’s not how phone conversations work.

“Yes, listen I just got home and I think my gardener’s check might have bounced or something because it looks like he’s dumped a load of garden waste into my pool. I was wondering if you would be free tomorrow to come and sort it out for me?” You hope you sound casual and lighthearted.

Eddie laughs, “So, a quick tip when you’re calling people to do services for you, don’t mention checks bouncing. I’ll be over at 10am tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver, I’ll make sure I have cash for you.” You’re kicking yourself right now, why on earth would you mention a check bouncing? You could have said the wind this evening blew it into your pool.

“Relax sweetheart, it's just a pool. See you.” The line clicks and you lean back against the cool kitchen counter, you swear you can feel your skin sizzle from how hot your whole body feels, all this just from a phone call?

You sleep fitfully that night, your dreams nothing short of vulgar, that leave you waking up multiple times wanting. It’s almost a relief when your alarm finally rings, freeing you from the relentless lewd scenarios your brain is able to come up with. You take a cold shower, trying to calm your mind down, trying to rationalise that you’re not going to fuck the pool boy. You’re not that much of a cliche. You just want to ogle him. Oof. You’re not sure that’s much better. One thing is for sure, you can’t start fights with your husband for visiting strip clubs ever again.

You rummage through your swimwear drawer, throwing bits of fabric over your shoulder until you land on a dark red set you'd bought for your honeymoon, hoping to jump start your husband’s libido. You’d stood at the foot of the bed, striking a pose and your husband’s response had been to peer over his newspaper and inform you it was distasteful and to get changed before returning to his crossword. You doubt Eddie’s reaction would be in even the same realm as your husband’s. You slip into the bathing suit, grabbing the black sheer wrap and wedge sandals you had left on the floor from the previous day. 

Eddie is perfectly punctual, knocking on your door as the second hand ticks to 10 and greets you with a disarming smile, the pool vacuum resting over his arm, he looks you up and down before he can help himself and quickly forces his eyes back up to your face, clinging to a veneer of professionalism that is dangerously close to slipping. As you turn around and lead him to the back garden you hear a sharp intake of breath. As expected, an infinitely different reaction than your husband’s. You unlock the back door and gesture to the pool, filthy now from the garden waste being left in overnight.

“Damn, I’d get a new gardener. You clearly pissed them off.” Eddie whistles as he takes in the damage that your “gardener” caused. Eddie gets to work straight away, pulling his sweatshirt off over his head and giving you a glimpse of more of his skin. You head inside the house and return shortly with glasses of lemonade, you gesture to Eddie, indicating which one is his and he gives you a thumbs up in thanks.

You settle yourself into a sun lounger, this time determined to read more than 3 pages of your book in between glances at Eddie. You can’t just sit here staring. Eddie is a quick worker, you look up from your book after 20 minutes and find he’s almost cleared the branches and leaves. Maybe I should have used all the bags… The thought enters your head before you can stop it and you force yourself to look back at the book, certain your knuckles are white from the grip you have on the pages. You refuse to allow yourself to look back up at Eddie, not even when you hear him approaching and taking a seat on the sun lounger opposite you and chugging his lemonade.

“Okay, honesty hour. Did you dump all this into the pool so you’d have a reason to call me?”

You still don’t look up, “Really, why on earth would I do that?”

“I don’t know but either you made this mess or your gardener has an expensive taste.” You look up at him quizzically and immediately your eyes settle on a glittering bracelet that Eddie is dangling in front of you, reflexively you grab for it and give yourself away. There’s no way you could lie about this being the gardener’s based on the way your magpie hands grabbed at the shiny object.

“Wanted to see me again that badly huh?” Eddie smirks as you reattach the bracelet to your wrist, then as quickly as he came over he strolls back to the pool, continuing to work, the smirk never leaving his face as he continues skimming, the gentle laps of water against the side of the pool the only sound that breaks the silence between you two. You decide to ignore it, turning your attention to your book, a resolve that lasts for all of 30 seconds before you’re staring at Eddie again, watching the way his body moves, eyeing that tattoos that peak out from his vest, while you try to work out the shapes your questions are answered when he pulls the vest top over his head and wipes his forehead with it before throwing it to the side. You blindly reach out for your glass but the condensation makes the glass slip out of your hand and shatter on the ground. You curse loudly and Eddie looks up at the sound,

“You okay?” 

You nod, “Fine, just clumsy. I’ll grab a pan for this.” You head to the kitchen and are followed by Eddie, insisting he can help. You grab the pan from the cupboard and start slightly when you see Eddie immediately behind you. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He all but purrs at you, stepping into your space, but slowly, giving you an opportunity to push him away. You don’t, you step towards him and before you can register what’s happening your lips are locked in a searing kiss, Eddie pushes you against the counter, pinning you between it and him, meaning you can feel his cock as it hardens through his thin shorts, you gasp for air as he pulls away,

“Is this okay?” He asks, cheeks flushed and breathless, you nod, pushing him away just enough so that you can slip down to your knees. Screw it. Fuck the thought of being a cliche, you banish all those thoughts from your mind, this is something that you both want and need from each other.

You pull his shorts down slowly, and can’t help but lick your lips as you take in his length. He's bigger than your husband, not just in length but in girth too. You run your tongue up the underside of his dick, eliciting a deep groan from him, you might be rusty but you haven’t completely forgotten how to give good head. You take his tip slowly, barely sucking but enough to have Eddie gripping the counter behind him for dear life, you work your way up, gradually taking more and more of his length until his tip is nudging the back of your throat, you use your hand to squeeze and stroke along the length that you know you can’t take,

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mumbles as you take his length as deep as you dare, until your eyes are misty with tears and then come back up his length, over and over until his cock is coated in your saliva and he’s barely able to speak,

“Sh-shit you need to stop or I’m going to cum right down your throat.” You grant him reprieve, letting his length go with a sordid pop as the tip leaves your mouth. Eddie leans back on the counter for a second, appearing to catch his breath before a devilish smile spreads across his lips, 

“Your turn.” and before you can speak he’s pulling you to standing, and lifting you onto the counter with a surprising amount of ease, he’s definitely stronger than he looks. 

“This,” he plays with the top of your bathing suit, before unclasping it and throwing it to the floor,

“Is,” now he yanks down the bottoms, leaving you bare on the counter, “So fucking hot.”

“If you like it so much why did you take it off?” You tease him, trying to cover yourself, unsure of why you’re attempting to preserve any modesty.

“Because as sexy as you look in it, you look much better like this.”

Before you can come up with a smart retort his head is between your legs and he’s alternating between sucking on your clit so harshly it makes your hips buck and tracing letters on it with the softest brush of his tongue, it’s maddening sensation that has you racing towards your peak before being slowly brought back down to earth. You whine in frustration and Eddie comes away, kissing at your thighs and rubbing circles into them as though anything other than an orgasm could calm you now.

“Let’s play a game, if you can guess what I’m spelling I’ll let you cum.” You nod, breathing hard, only focused on winning the game so that he’ll stop tormenting you. Eddie’s head dives back in, the tracing of his tongue now going much slower, allowing your head to clear enough to think. The first letter is E - easy enough. Then the second and third letters are the same and form a slow circle around your clit then a quick upwards flick - d. 

“Eddie!” you cry out panting, praying to be right, you hear a quiet chuckle before Eddie is eating you like a man starved, shaking his head and moaning against you, your hands become tangled in his hair and your hips start to twitch entirely of their own accord, it's been what feels like an eternity since you last felt this desired, this kind of bliss. Eddie keeps his actions consistent, wrapping his soft lips around your clit and wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you close until he has your whole body in spasm from orgasm. 

He wraps his arms around your body as you cling to him, coming down from your high with breathy sighs and unconscious twitches. He helps you down from the counter and holds you steady, waiting until your legs are able to take your weight before his hands leave you, 

“Think you can keep going?” A hungry smile forms on his lips as he speaks and you nod, desperate for more. You bend over the counter, sticking out your ass at him and Eddie hesitates for just a moment,

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” You shake your head,

“Just fuck me Eddie.” You’re practically pleading but it's not like you’d need to plead, he’s lining himself up and trying to bite back a moan at the mere sensation of your slick dripping onto the head of his cock. He shivers and slowly slides in, the stretch burns slightly and you make a noise somewhere between pleasure and pain and he stills,

“Everything okay?” You nod and he continues to fill you up, it’s almost a relief when you feel his thighs flush with yours, he pauses, allowing you to adjust to his size before he starts slowly pulling back and setting an almost torturously slow pace, like he has all the time in the world to fuck you and he’s going to relish every single second. 

“Fuck you feel so fucking good.” Eddie groans against your shoulder and you can only nod dumbly and moan in response, as your body becomes used to his size he begins to pick up the pace, biting at your shoulder as he pounds into you, every thrust forcing a soft cry of pleasure from your lips. You lean back against him, pressing your back against his chest and he wraps an arm around you to toy with your clit, the dual stimulation making it impossible for you to focus on anything but the euphoria of this moment. Eddie sucks the skin of your neck harshly, you know its going to leave a mark but you don’t care, you cry out for more and then Eddie fucks you harder, nearing his peak, and thats when he makes you do something unexpected. Eddie makes you squirt, creating a mess on the kitchen floor.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Eddie grunts as he reaches his own orgasm, burying himself to the hilt inside you so that you can feel every pulse of his cock as he unloads inside you. Eddie pulls out slowly, as if he resents doing so.  You lean forward onto the kitchen counter and try to catch your breath and control the shaking of your thighs, Eddie strokes your back soothingly, whispering words of encouragement to you. You hear cupboards opening near you and then Eddie presents you with a glass of water that you take in shaking hands.

“Fuck.” is the only word you’re able to say. Eddie laughs breathily, 

“Right there with you.” 

As you recover from your post orgasm haze you suddenly become hyper aware of your nudity and scramble for your cover-up from the floor. Eddie follows suit and grabs his shorts, hiking them up. You throw a kitchen towel over the mess on the floor, cheeks blazing at the sight. 

“Well, I’d better get back to the pool.” Eddie bumps your shoulder playfully and then whistles when he gets a look at your neck, “Sorry about that.” 

You sneak a peak in the mirror and gasp when you see the darkening love bites left on your skin, those can’t be explained. Then it thrills you a little. How far could you take this?

Eddie taglist: @hellfire-puppet @just-absolutely-feral @fangirling-4-ever @and-claudia @scrumptiouslyangrystarfish @quinndjarin @munsonsgirl71 @likedovesinthewnd @boomhauer @joejoequinnquinn @callmeloverr @dukesmebby

[irudowb]

Phantom

======

(gif is not mine)

Nakajima Atsushi x reader

an: this is purely self-indulgent, i wrote this at like 2 am also cross posted on ao3

warnings: 18+ - smut (handjobs), swearing, kissing, no comfort (kinda?), no use of Y/N, fem!reader, other characters are mentioned but not explicitly. uhhhhh i think that’s it. :P

lowercase intented

fic is under cut

<>

atsushi woke up with a groan. the sun blaring through the blinds onto his face. he turns and digs his head further into his pillow, arms stretching beneath it as he shifts onto his stomach. he lets out a soft sigh as he relaxes again in darkness.

some days he finds it hard to get out of bed, only softly untangling himself from his sheets after repetitive calls from kunikida insisting he make it to work on time. even on his days off, he can't find a reason to get out and start his day, wanting to wallow away in the soft plush warmth until his body begs him to.

he wouldn't say it's because he's unmotivated or unhappy in any kind of way, just that he wants the time for himself. to laze around, not having to worry about anything. the time he spends in bed is really the only time he spends in peace, contrasting to his "normal" work days.

that is...until recently. now he finds himself eagerly getting out of bed, putting more effort in his appearance, making sure his outfit looks flawless... for you. he wasn't sure what changed, you two were good friends, around the same age when he first met you. you had started at the agency just a few months before him. you weren't there during his entrance exam (something he's now thankful for, embarrassed with how he reacted, something his mind brings up often only for him to cringe), but you saw him a few days later, congratulating him on passing and that you were excited to work with him.

you two shared the same awkwardness at feeling out of place in the new environment. the two of you became great friends, often being paired for cases, even if it was to tag along with another member. something about you had him coming to you for solace, and you to him. often catching each others eyes as if to communicate their emotions to the other.

a few weeks go by from then and he noticed himself trying to catch your eye more often from your desk across the room. dazai insisting atsushi do his work for him, he'd sigh, accepting, looking up to you, expecting (hoping) for a look of sympathy, only to find you nose deep in your work. he ignored the disappointed feeling and copied you. kenji was talking atsushi's ear off about how one of his cows back home had given birth and was upset he wasn't there for her. atsushi hums along respectfully with his story, though quickly swiping his eyes toward you, wondering if you were also listening to a very loud kenji, only to find you in a nice conversation with yosano. once again, he brushes off his disappointment as you were distracted.

but, there were times he did catch your eye. the members were sitting in the meeting room, being debriefed on a, very simple mission, atsushi couldn't find it necessary to collect everyone together like this but didn't dwell on it much further. kunikida and rampo were going back and forth discussing information, mostly interrupting one another, but atsushi couldn't hear their words as he looked up from his paper and found your eyes on him. your eyes give him a look that reassembles his thoughts from before. 'i don't see why this is necessary' - they say, he suppresses a smile, looking down at his paper again to hide it from any onlookers. he schools his expression before looking up at you with a look of understanding and a bit of humour. you two continue to look at one another like love sick teenagers, only to be interrupted by kunikida concluding the meeting.

this time you two were out for a date, at least that's what he'd like to think. it was for a mission, were disguised as two normal people, waiting for a switch-a-roo in the cafe. they had yet to show up so for now atsushi entertained the idea that it was just the two of you, enjoying a peaceful brunch date. after the waiter walked away from your booth, your foot brushed his, pulling away in apology, though he unconsciously found his foot trying to reach for you again. that he ignored. he felt you staring. he ignored it for a few moment, basking in the silent attention you were giving him, before drifting his eyes to yours. call him childish, but he couldn't help the flash of electricity jump up his spine at the contact. you stared at each other, as if enjoying a simple conversation, before you smile softly, dipping your head and sipping your coffee quietly. he let a smile crawl onto his lips but he couldn't look away, even after the waiter comes back with their food.

god, he couldn't get you out of his head, can he?

atsushi groans again into his pillow, digging his head further into the pillow, trying to brush you out of his mind's eye. he tilts his head up until his eyes are clear but the rest of his face is covered by his pillow. he stares at the clock. 6:37 a.m. too early, he thinks, but now it's nearly impossible for him to get back to sleep with you clouding his thoughts.

he rolls over onto his back with yet another groan. the blanket pooling around his waist, his arms spread out on either side of him, staring at the roof. if he squints his eyes, he can see your face in the popcorn ceiling. eyes crinkled with a soft smile, that atsushi selfishly thinks is reserved just for him. his eyes quickly shut with a whine as he realizes what he's doing. his hands shoot up to cover his eyes in embarrassment.

his first alarm blares throughout his apartment (finally) startling him out of his thoughts. 7:00 a.m. god, had he been thinking about just you for nearly 30 minutes straight?

he started his day, albeit a little lazy, but with a little kick in his step. he makes himself breakfast, staring at the pan, he imagines you waking up, your feet padding into his little kitchenette, quietly sliding up behind him, your head digging into his back as you muffle a yawn. the back of his neck shivers as he feels the phantom. you hands sprawled across his stomach as you nose up his shoulder, resting your head there with a tired pout, eyes nearly closed. atsushi smiles leaning back slightly to feel more of you. he can almost feel the content hum that slips out of you. your one hand slips its pinky into the waistband of his sweatpants, the sleepy emotion present on your face contradicting the actions of your hands.

the smell of burning brings him from his daydream making him open his eyes, when did he close them? quickly looking down at the pan to find his breakfast, sizzling and black.

"shit." he mutters, taking it off the heat and placing it on the side. he glares at the food like its the fault for his daydream. with a deep sigh he figures he can just pick something up on the way, he doesn't have time.

making it to work had been more a less a challenge. from putting his shirt on backwards and nearly walking out of the door with it. forgetting his work bag on the counter and having to run back. the worker messing up his order and having to kindly explain more than a few times what his proper order was (bless his heart). but finally, making it to work a minute before his start time. with an exhausted sigh, he twists the door handle and walks in with his regular "good morning, everyone."

and in return his receives a few muttered "good morning" and "hey's" but from you he receives "atsushi! come look at this!" setting his bag down at his desk, next to a very asleep dazai, he walks over with an unconscious smile. he places a hand on your desk looking down at you. you unconsciously lean into him (he can't tell if he wants it to be unconscious or if you're actively hoping to be closer to him) and show him a few pictures of a cat you saw on your way to work. you, yourself were a dog person but you knew that atsushi loved cats. you teased him about it one day saying 'of course you do, you're a cat yourself.' and you jokingly asked if he 'can speak to cats.' he was embarrassed, his blush made that abundantly clear but seeing you smile and quietly laugh at your own jokes, he never told you to stop.

your quiet conversation came to a complete stop as kunikida glared silently at the two of them. quickly, you two immediately went back to work.

a little disappointed that your time together was cut short, but atsushi figured you two would have more time later on.

working pretty consistently to get his work done, motivated, he would pause every now and then to catch a glance at you before inevitably going back to his (read: dazai's) work. only once did he completely stop everything he was doing to fully look up at you. you let out a frustrated sigh before leaning back into your chair with your head leaning up against the back, before letting out a final, exhausted sigh with your eyes closed.

his heart jumps in his throat.

what

eyes wide at his own reaction, he lets out a soft shuttered breath before trying to focus back onto his work. 'how can you?' his mind's voice, quite loud, he might add, fogging his mind from work. 'she didn't even do anything' he counters the voice. the voice doesn't respond so he goes back to work, albeit a little hard to get his focus back but it works... for about five minutes before his mind is suddenly flooded with you on your back, hair sprawled out on his pillow, releasing the same exhausted sigh but this time your face flushed and eyes boring into his, pleading.

his spine his shocked straight, eyes wide, jaw slightly slack, and a soft glow of a blush present.

...what?

he quickly and quietly excuses himself to the restroom. glaring at himself in the mirror, hands on either side of the sink to lean into the mirror. 'you're a pervert.' god... he hangs his head low, before splashing himself with cold water to reduce the current (rising) blush. before he heads back to his desk, composed. not before noticing you stare boring into him, he ignores it.

the rest of the day goes without any further issues. he finished his work for the day and is now waiting for you to finish bantering with rampo about the best candy flavour, he knows your defending blue raspberry but he can't be bothered what rampo is defending. you walk over to him and he notices your smug smile, eyes closed in success; he assumes you won before looking at rampo to see the same expression, he holds back a chuckles at the thought that you both think you won the argument.

you link your arm around his, routine, still holding the same smug smile but this time your eyes are open and looking up at him from his arm. he pushes down the warmth that envelopes him before gesturing in front of him to lead you out the door to walk you home.

you talk animatedly about your plans for the night, you were to make dinner, then shower, read a book or maybe finish one of your sudoku puzzles, before you, as he quotes 'wind down.' he didn't let himself indulge on your choice of words before he also shared his plans for the night.

watching your hands find your apartment key, slipping into the handle, and hearing an audible click, your dog from within barks at whomever is behind. you don't walk in, instead you turn around and lean up, planting the softest kiss atsushi thinks he's ever felt. before his or your cheeks can flush, you whisper a 'goodnight' so close he can feel your breath against his ear.

he blinks and your door is shut with you now inside and him standing beyond it. he stares at the door for a few more seconds before smiling like an idiot. now he really feels like a teenager in those high school dramas he's seen kyouka watching. he turns quickly, before he can do something stupid like burst your door down and kiss you senseless.

he doesn't even know when he gets to his own apartment, he has half a mind to lock it as he enters (old habits die hard) before making his dinner (not burning it) and heading for a shower. he's following your plan, he smiles drunkenly at the thought, he didn't mean to, it just seemed normal. the only thing different is that he immediately slumps into bed.

eyes closed, he lets out a soft sigh. his thoughts are quiet for a beat before it's suddenly flooded with the feeling of your lips against his cheek. it all happened so fast he couldn't even comprehend the plush contact, he blindly raises his hand to his cheek. a silly thought came into his head that he shouldn't have washed it off in the shower, before audibly chuckling. his brain cuts his off his laughing by flooding his mind again with your low whispering, so close to his ear.

the soft blush on his face deepens, spreading quickly to his ears and neck. his eyes snap open. no, no he can't be thinking about this right now. his mind counters the argument by showing the ghost of you slowly crawling up to his lap on your hands and knees. he swears he can feel the bed dip where your hands plant on either side of his hips. your frame being ever so beautifully framed by his legs.

he shakes his head, eyes squeezed tight.

he takes a deep breath.

'this is... wrong.' he thinks, nobody actually jerks off to the thought of another, they just say they do to make the other feel good... right? he rolls over onto his side, staring out his window. he should just go to bed, forgetting his own insistent need, and move on to the next day. he smiles, albeit a little forced, trying to convince himself at his plan, ready to close his eyes and succumb to darkness.

'just close your eyes, count sheep if you have to.'

he bites his lip.

'...just, close your eyes.' he gently sighs, relaxing.

the wind blows, shaking the tree by his window. atsushi wonders if it's going to rain.

'no, close. your eyes.'

a beat.

groaning, he wonders if he even forgot how to, before turning his head into the pillow, eyes now only effectively half closed, protecting themselves from the cloth. this is good enough.

he sighs again, untensing his shoulders and back to make it easier. he considers reading a book until he passes out.

he weighs his options before he feels your phantom slide up next to him kissing his bare shoulder, ever so gently, as you did his cheek. goosebumps rise, he doesn't entertain the idea, but he also don't try to look to his left where you wouldn't be, some part of him whispering where this will lead. he glares into the pillow at the voice.

he feels your pout on his shoulder, perhaps upset you haven't looked at him. so you trail more kisses down his forearm, then back up to the space between his shoulder and neck. he doesn't know when he started panting but he can feel his hot breath against his face, bouncing off the pillow. he's this worked up over a few kisses?

"atsushi..." he hears your sickly sweet voice whine his voice, his body shivers, now unaware if you're actually in the room or not, it sounded too real... "are you not gonna look at me?"

"no..."

god, now he really feels stupid, talking to himself, more stupidly, your phantom. he can't let this go on. he shifts coming up onto his elbows, head still hanging low. he's about to speak before he feels your nails ghost down his back, so, so slowly, he groans quietly, head dropping back to his pillow. "shit..."

your fingers continue down stopping at the dip of his back.

"you're so sensitive." your voice is full of humour and teasing, he nearly growls. great, now his mind is mocking him.

your nails trail back up, this time with more pressure, still soft. "atsushi..." you call to him like a siren. it makes his head spin. his back twitches, wanting to lean into your touch. he hears your laugh, he feels sick.

"come on, are you really gonna keep ignoring me?" he hears your whine, but he also hears the teasing tone. he weakly nods his head into the pillow. he wants to slap himself, maybe a good punch. why is he not shooing your shadow away? he can feel it glaring at him from his bedroom wall. he's vaguely aware that his eyes are now closed, but his attention is now on the feeling of your lips on his back, tracing the line of goosebumps that erupted from your fingers earlier.

groaning into the pillow, he arches his stomach into the bed trying to flee from your lips. he lets out a pant as he feels his, very prominent, erection rub against his sweatpants.

your lips leave his back and whisper, "roll over."

his back arches off the mattress as he feels your lips ghosting over his navel. he throws his arm across his eyes. his mind falters for a second, when did he get on his back...? the thought is thrown away as he feels your lips trail up his chest. he must be going crazy.

you hum as your tongue darts out of your mouth to leave kitten licks along the scars that grace his chest. his head swims, had he been standing, surely he would've fallen over by now. he hears soft moans in the thick air of his room; he wasn't sure if they were his or yours. your hands join your lips in caressing the scars, before they move in opposite directions. your lips meet his collarbone as your hand meets the band of his sweatpants. his breath hitches, finding it hard to breath.

"please..." his own voice sounds foreign to him, breathless and low.

he feels your breath tickle his collarbone as you exhale a laugh. "you're not ignoring me anymore?" his body is racked with shivers.

he doesn't respond only moaning softly as he feels the tips of your fingers slip past the loose band of his pants. he moves his arm from his eyes to grip the sheets below him, lost in pleasure, he keeps his eyes closed.

your hands dig into the sweatpants, pushing the hem with it, his pants now a little past his knees, he feels you kiss back down his chest, paying attention to his abdomen, his hips, and up his thigh.

"god...please." he groans, but it's quickly followed by a whine.

you hum into the butterfly kisses. "please, what?"

"fuck, touch me, please... i feel like i'm gonna die."

he feels you move up, planting a kiss to the same cheek you did early today. he moans softly at the treatment. if you say something, he doesn't hear you, to blinded by the fact that you finally, finally, touch him. he lets out a breathy moan jerking up into your hand. you let out a tsk but do nothing to hold him down.

you grasp the base of his erection squeezing it gently. he lets out a deep groan, back arching slightly. "shit."

"who knew you had such a dirty mouth."

whining in defiance, his mind is flooded with the idea of making the same sounds come from you before your hand slides up to the tip collecting his precum between your thumb and pointer, effectively bringing the fluid down his length to make your movements easier.

his moans flow freely from his mouth now into the open air for you to hear, unashamed.

"more, more, god... please." he whines as you chuckle but obey him anyway.

he growls as he feels your hand squeeze the tip everytime you come back up. his hips jerk and jump into your hand, chasing the heat. you kiss along his neck and shoulder, his head falling back onto the pillow. you coo at the subtle act of submission, picking up the speed of your hand.

"fuck, please... please i'm so close." moaning loudly as you respond by going faster, your other hand flattens along the tip of his cock, rubbing in slow circles.

"come on, let me see it..." you whisper against his ear.

"shit...!" he words are spoken through grinding teeth, his back arches off the bed as he cums with a jerk. your hand keeps moving, slower now, but squeezing his tip again, pushing more cum out.

"ah... fuck, stop." he whispers breathily. his hand reaches for yours, stilling the movement.

his adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his throat dry and sore. he slowly opens his eyes, staring at his ceiling. lifting his head to look down at where you were by his hips, he freezes as he realizes you weren't there. with a loud groan, his head falls back onto the pillow, arm thrown over his eyes as his hands, not yours, were full of his own cum.

"god... i'm an idiot."

how was he supposed to face you in the morning?

[thesuperthing]

i hate getting a new hobby because the instant i tell someone irl about it they “force” me to do it and pursue it and it sucks All the fun out

[devildom-drabbles]

Story - Stitched with Care

Summary: Leviathan has sewn together a meaningful gift for MC, but will he have the courage to give it to them?

Characters/Ship: Leviathan x MC

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: None

Leviathan glanced back and forth between the character reference images on his computer screen and every inch of the small plush in his hands.  He triple-checked everything, ensuring that it was a perfect match.  All the while, his fingers grazed over the fabric to check for any rough edges that could potentially hurt the holder, and he gently squeezed the plush to assure himself that the stitching was tight enough that no stuffing would pop out.  After confirming that there were no flaws, he cheered aloud.

“I did it!  It’s finally done!” he hollered within his room.  He shifted closer to the tank beside him, where Henry 2.0 was watching him intently.  “Check it out, Henry!  I made an exact stuffed replica of MC’s favorite fictional character!  Sewing some of these little details together was a challenge, but just like the real Henry and the Lord of Shadows, I was able to conquer it through the power of friendship!  Well, my friendship with MC, that is.  I had to skip my weekly TSL marathon for this, but it was well-worth it.  Now I just need to text MC to meet me in my room.”  

He giggled to himself, giddy with excitement while he typed out a series of spam messages to the human.  “Oh, man, I can’t wait to see the look of surprise on their face when they see this.  I hope they get here soon!”

As he awaited a response from MC, Leviathan studied the plush in his hands.  It was a character that MC gushed about frequently, like he did with Ruri-chan.  They had mentioned recently that they couldn’t find any good quality, reasonably-priced merchandise of this character in the Devildom, so they asked Levi to keep them posted if he ever found anything like that on Akuzon or any of his other merch locations.  He had considered just buying one of the more expensive items for MC, but then he thought, why not just make something himself?  He was skilled in sewing--having made dolls before as a gift--and capable of putting together something that likely would be sold for a high price online.  And so, he decided to create his own merch of the character--a plush that’s one of its kind and for MC only!  He picked at the bandage on one of his fingers while gazing at the finished product with pride, a feeling he doesn’t experience as often as he’d like.

However, the longer the shut-in demon waited for MC, the more his pride was replaced with self-doubt.  MC wouldn’t find this weird, right?  Would they even like how it turned out as much as he did?  What if they’re disappointed?  What if they only pretend to like it?  His hands trembled and pressed further into the plush, visibly distorting its features.  Oh no, it is poorly made, isn’t it?  MC wouldn’t like this!  And when they find out it was made by this yucky otaku who probably likes them a whole lot more than they like him--?!  

Leviathan screamed at himself internally.  What was he thinking?!  Why did he send those texts so quickly?!  He should’ve thought it over more before asking them to come--

A familiar rapping on his bedroom door nearly made the demon jump out of his skin.

“Levi,” MC’s voice called from the other side, “I’m here.  Can I come in?”

“P-P-Password!!” Leviathan hollered while scrambling to figure out what to do with the plush.  Should he hide it and come up with a different “surprise” for MC?  But what else would be exciting and urgent enough to order them to come here on such short notice?  He got a new game recently that he’s been wanting to play with them--  No, wait, they both planned to do that next weekend!  Think, Levi, think!!

“I thought I didn’t need a password anymore,” MC pointed out.  “Besides, you asked me to come here ASAP, didn’t you?”

“Uh, r-right!  I meant--  Um--”

Leviathan stared at the large fish tank lining the wall of his room, giving him an idea.  He’ll jump in the tank, hide the plush among the items inside, and then act like he wanted to show MC some underwater tricks in his demon form!  ...No, no, no, that’s so lame!  If MC wanted to see something like that, they’d go to an aquarium!

“Come on, Levi,” MC complained.  “I promise I’m by myself, if it’s your brothers you’re worried about.”

“N-No, it’s not--  Erm--  Can you just--”  Overwhelmed, the demon pulled on chunks of his hair and shouted, “D’ahhhh!!  Never mind, okay?!  Forget everything I texted you!”

MC was silent for a few moments before saying, “You said you had a surprise for me, right?  Well, I’m coming in to see it!”

“No, wait!! I just said--”

Upon seeing his door begin to open, Leviathan desperately tried to get inside the tall tank and hide away, dropping the plush on his bedroom floor in the process.  MC found him flailing about as his feet kept sliding on the tank’s glass while he attempted to climb inside.  Confused and concerned, they ran toward him and grabbed his shins, begging him to get down.  Since he was alarmed by their touch, he accidentally pushed himself off the tank too quickly.  He fell to his back, narrowly avoiding any collision with MC.  The commotion and pain left him feeling temporarily sluggish, so he just stayed on the ground for a bit.

MC approached Leviathan’s side and lightly tapped their hand on the cheek of his dazed face.  “Levi?  You okay?”

Once he had regained his senses, he realized how close MC was to him and hurriedly scooted away.  “F-Fine!  I mean, I’m fine!  N-Nothing to see here!  Just a weird shut-in otaku being his embarrassing self in front of the person he likes--  Likes as a friend, I mean!”

Not wanting to see MC’s reaction or show his own face to them anymore, he hid behind his hands in shame.  This wasn’t working out at all like he’d planned!  Instead of presenting a wonderful surprise gift for the human he cherished, he’d probably just made himself even less favorable in their eyes!  He really is the worst, isn’t he?!

The demon waited for a response of some kind:  a negative comment, snickering directed toward him, or even footsteps leading back to his door to leave him in his misery, but nothing came.  Feeling uncomfortable in the silence, he peeked between his fingers to see what MC was up to.  Were they actually holding back their laughter?  Were they looking at him in disgust?  Or maybe in disappointment?!  Maybe they couldn’t even bear to look at him at all?!  

What he saw made him suck in a sharp breath:  MC had found the plush he had made for them.  Their eyes were wide as they scanned over the doll of their favorite character, taking in every tiny detail.  They treated it like the most precious and delicate object in existence while they carefully turned it around in their hands repeatedly.  When they locked eyes with Leviathan, he covered his view with his fingers again.

“Was this the surprise, Levi?” MC asked him calmly.  “Did you get this--”  They paused, noticing that there were no tags.  Upon closer inspection, they suddenly recognized the familiar stitching, and when they turned back to the third eldest demon brother, they finally registered the bandages around some of his fingers.  “No way...  Levi, did you make this plush of my favorite character for me?”

Still hesitant to reveal his face, Leviathan slowly nodded in reply.  A grin grew on MC’s face that practically stretched ear to ear.  They threw their arms around the timid demon’s neck, nearly knocking him over from his seated position.  His hands instinctively moved away from his face to steady himself and prevent MC from toppling over, one hand hovering over their back protectively.  He hardly had a chance to be flustered from the physical contact before MC suddenly thanked him.

“This plush is amazing,” MC praised the shocked demon.  “It looks so much like them, too.  It’s better than anything I’ve seen online for this character.  I almost thought it was some kind of rare official merch!  Seriously, Levi, your sewing skills are incredible.  This might just be the best surprise gift I’ve ever received!”

“Y-You mean it?” Leviathan questioned them nervously.

MC leaned back to show him their joyful expression.  “Of course!  I wouldn’t lie about this.  You know that, right?”

“Well, I--  I was worried that...maybe...you’d think it was weird or...not good enough...”

They shook their head.  “Not at all.  I’m actually flattered you took the time to make something so nice for me.  I love it.  I really do.”

Leviathan felt guilty for beating himself up earlier and for allowing his mind to misconstrue who MC truly was.  No, MC would never pretend around him.  They would never criticize or make fun of something he made.  Most importantly, they would never agree with the negativity he threw at himself.  MC was his friend through and through, without a doubt.  With a thin line of tears forming in his eyes, he promised himself he wouldn’t forget that again.

“I-I’m glad,” he said, swiftly wiping his eyes with his sleeve.  “I’m really really glad you like it, MC!  I’m so sorry I tried to hide this gift from you earlier!”

MC laughed lightly.  “It’s all right.  Just promise me you won’t get worried over something like this again, okay?  You can always be straightforward with me.”

“MC…!  Aaaahhhh, you’re such a good friend to someone like me!!  I’ll never doubt you again!”

Leviathan hugged MC back, hiding his face in their shoulder.  He felt the vibrations from their chuckling and their free hand stroking the top of his head, which filled him with an intense warmth that reached his ears.  He still wasn’t sure if he deserved MC’s kindness and friendship, but he wanted to do whatever he could to make sure he’d never lose it.

~~Epilogue~~

“Now that I have the best plush ever, what should I do with it first?”  MC wondered aloud, holding the plush out in front of them while sitting on the edge of Leviathan’s bathtub bed.

Leviathan swiveled in his computer chair toward them, removing his attention from the gaming news website that had been his reason for physically separating himself from MC.  Truth was, once relief washed over him at the fact that MC liked the plush he made, he was beginning to get too flustered by their close contact and had to retreat somehow.  He didn’t want them to leave just yet, so he asked them to wait while he checked for updates on the newest video games he wanted.  This allowed him time to recover and a way to hide his blushing.  One day, he vowed to himself, he’d have the courage to hold MC longer without freaking out!

“You could put it up on display in your room,” the otaku demon suggested.  “Or keep it on your bed with your pillows--”  His face suddenly flushed at the realization of what he just said.  “U-Um, that is, i-if you want to.  Or maybe that’d be too weird.  It’s not like it’s a body pillow or something.  Y-Yeah, you know what?  Just ignore me, ahahaha…”

“Actually, you just gave me an idea,” MC remarked cheerfully.  They hugged the plush to their chest.  “It’s small and comfy, so I can sleep with it!”

The chair rolled back into the computer desk as Leviathan abruptly stood up.  “Y-You’re going to sleep with it?!”

MC shrugged at his outburst.  “Sure, why not?  I might as well make use of it.  It’s my favorite character, after all, and it seems pretty cuddly.”  They held the plush closer to their face, noticing a trace of Leviathan’s scent.  “I kind of don’t want to let it go, you know?”

The Avatar of Envy’s nails slowly dug into his balled fists as he watched MC snuggle with the plush in their arms.  Yes, he made the plush himself, so he does feel overjoyed that MC likes it so much that they don’t want to part with it.  However, if he wasn’t such a coward, he’d be the one snuggling with MC!  It’s not fair!  He can’t look at this anymore!!

With swift motions, Leviathan removed the plush from MC’s grip, a small pout evident on his face as he looked back at the human’s startled expression.  “A-Anyway, you can make a final decision on what to do with it later.  For now, since you’re here, why don’t we get an early start on that game I promised to play with you?”

“But can’t I still hold my plush while we play?” MC inquired, trying to reach for it as the demon kept it secured behind his back.

“No!  I won’t be able--  I mean, you won’t be able to focus if you do that!”

MC scrunched their eyebrows in confusion for a bit before a lightbulb went off in their head, sending a smirk to their lips.  “Are you jealous of a plush, Levi?”

“H-How did--  I mean, no!  No, I’m not--”

The demon let out a screech when MC pulled him in for a hug, squishing their face into his chest.  They looked up at his deep red face with a smile.

“Don’t worry,” MC reassured him.  “I may like the plush a lot, but I like the demon who made it even more.”

If Leviathan was physically capable of melting into a puddle, he would’ve in an instant at that comment.  Instead, he basically fainted MC’s arms due to the heat frying his brain’s circuits.

[viperbarnes]

The Long Last Summer

[B. Barnes] Oneshot

40s Post-War AU

Summary: With Steve off in America again, Bucky finds himself doing his own version of a USO tour through Italy, boosting morale and friendship, or so they tell him. However, a new stationing in the tiny town of Montecarra gives him more reason to want to stay, when he becomes quickly whisked away by wild, carefree and exuberant you.

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of the war, awful awful Italian probably. The reader has a name, but it's still written as a reader insert.

Note: The reader/character in this fic is a black woman. This fic was originally uploaded elsewhere, so if you're a part of the small audience who read it originally please don't panic, it isn't stolen lol. The story is almost entirely spoken in Italian, but doing italics for every conversation was annoying, so just assume that unless otherwise stated! Thank you for reading!

Words: 19.5k [This is very long.... Sorry...]

The hot Italian sun beats down on the town below, the occasional breeze carried overland from the nearby ocean to the west might have been a blessing if that too weren’t humid and warm. Bucky Barnes thinks it should be a sin for it to be so hot so early in the morning, but he’s long past complaining about it. Leaning against his car door, stopped on a hill overlooking the town of Montecarra, Bucky takes another drag of his cigarette before stomping it out. At least he hadn’t woken up in a filthy, sweltering trench, surrounded by hot bodies after another restless night of gunfire filled dreams. At least he was only required to wear his uniform during official ‘work’ hours.

Giving the town, his newest home, one last look, Bucky gets back in the car and makes his way down.

Being a core member of The Howling Commandos these past years, Bucky had earned himself a certain amount of celebrity, both in America and abroad. Especially in Italy. Given that Steve had returned to the States already, and Bucky had expressed some minor interest in staying in Europe a while longer, Colonel Phillips had happily assigned him as a ‘morale liaison’ while the US and other allies sorted out the peace treaties and demilitarisation of Europe.

It made as much sense to Bucky then as it did now. He had come to realise that ‘morale liaison’ was just jargon for ‘dancing, handshaking, smiling, posing monkey’, seeing as most of his time the past two years had been spent shaking hands while smiling and posing for various photos. Usually with politicians. Bucky hated politicians.

Luckily, his newest post, Montecarra, was far more what Bucky had thought he’d be doing when Phillips had given him his orders; helping people rebuild and reclaim their lives in a post-fascist Italy. As he drives through the small town, Bucky thinks briefly that the bulk of it seemed to be almost entirely untouched by the war, the classic Italian architecture and warm coloured buildings homey and welcoming, the cobbled stone streets and walkways looking every part the idyllic Tuscan town, but then he sees it.

Toward the edges of town, Bucky’s eyes catch on a shattered stone building, utterly destroyed. It’s a small ways from the town itself, a little field between it and the nearest houses, and he can’t help but already feel grateful for the fact it looked to be the only place that had been hit by the violence, though he doesn’t deny the unseen scars that no doubt linger on the people themselves.

He quickly looks away and continues on to his residence.

There was no army base or fortifications in Montecarra, the nearest being in Florence, but The people had kindly offered up a small, newly unowned cottage for the military to house any visiting soldiers in during their stay. When he finally gets to be shown around by the nearest neighbour, a friendly older woman, he’s glad that for the time being, he has it to himself.

He gets himself settled, partially unpacks his bags before getting bored and making his way out to the blooming garden, camera in hand. It had been a gift from Steve, sent for his birthday the previous year when the two had not been able to reunite, and although Bucky had much preferred putting pencil to paper before he’d owned his own camera, he’d found in recent months, as the cold receded and the sun came out, he’d picked up a knack for photography.

The fact that this model was an ‘instant’ model, making it so that after each photo he took, a little slip of paper would spit out and slowly develop the image, certainly aided his newfound love for the hobby. When he had been a kid, his Ma would take the family to have their pictures taken once a year, and the results always took days or weeks.

Lifting the camera to his eye, Bucky peeks through and aims it at a tall bushel of bougainvillea, the bright red against the butter-coloured walls of his cottage making him wish the photos weren’t just black and white.

He snaps a few more floral shots, wondering absently if he’ll be able to buy more photo paper in town. With the sun still high in the sky, he decides that he may as well take a short walk, if not to introduce himself to some of the locals, then to answer his question.

Honestly, the unendingly friendly reception he’d received everywhere he went never ceased to surprise him. Two years ago Italy had been the enemy or the soldiers and government at least. For the most part, the people caught in the crossfire had been weary and scared, but helpful where they could be to Allied soldiers. Still, the warmth they seemed to hold him, and other allied soldiers with was always a little startling at first.

By the time he makes it to the centre of town, he’d been kissed on his cheeks more times than he could count, but interestingly, the people of Montecarra weren’t as clingy as he’d found some other towns and cities… After greeting him, they’d happily left him alone, though with numerous and repeated offers to have him for dinner.

Once unable to stand doing nothing at all, and always on the go, the young man Bucky had once been, had evolved into a quieter, more solitary version of himself. He still liked to have fun, mind you, he’d learnt to take enjoyment and pleasure where he could in the army, but his sniper’s life had taught him contentedness with his own company. Bucky was fine being alone, without chatter or noise to distract him. He’d come to prefer it, actually.

Bucky finds that Montecarra’s central space was a large set of four courtyards, separated by various important municipal buildings and shops, and at the centre point, an old communal well that had been made into a fountain. Without thinking, Bucky lifts his camera to snap a shot of the fountain. He loved New York more than anything, and he couldn’t wait to return home, but damn if he hadn’t fallen hard for European architecture.

He’s still waving the little piece of photo paper back and forth to help it develop when loud laughter and the familiar noise of children playing reaches his ears. It startles him slightly, Montecarra wasn’t exactly sleepy, but it was quiet, and the residence all seemed to be of an older sort, he hadn’t seen many children yet, though a look at his watch tells him that might have been due to school.

A small gaggle of children of various ages come skipping into view across from the fountain, chatting loudly and seemingly unaware of the previous peace that had reigned in the town square. Unlike in New York, however, Bucky notices not a single patron of the nearby outdoor restaurant throws them dirty looks or hisses at them to quiet down, if anything, the people nearby pause to watch for a few seconds, not with disdain written on their faces, but soft, gentle smiles, before they return to their business.

A voice calling out from the back of the group, noticeable for its maturity in comparison to the children’s voices, catches Bucky’s attention and he lets his gaze skip over the scene until it lands on you, and suddenly, he’s breathless.

Bucky Barnes had seen a lot of beautiful women in his time, and had been lucky enough to know a number of them too, but you, you are something else entirely.

It’s your smile he notices first, plush rosy brown lips pulled wide in a joyful grin, so magnetising he finds himself unable to look away. Your hair is long, curly and dark, brushed into waves that the humidity and breeze seemed set on ruining, and with one hand you secure your wide brim sun hat as you chase the kids. Your white blouse is laced around the open collar and both it and the bright yellow of your skirt stand out against your syrupy brown skin, smooth and a little shiny from the sun.

“Here! Roberto, Norma, come sit here a moment! Look at the fountain!” You beckon the children, two strays in particular, over toward the fountain, and much like Bucky, the kids seem magnetised to you as well. You float right up to the water, sitting on the edge as the children all gather around, still chatting and playing loudly, though a little more orderly now.

Bucky watches you swipe a hand through the cool water, smiling and speaking animatedly with one of the children. He wonders if you were perhaps their teacher, but he’s snapped away from his thoughts a moment later.

“That man has a camera! Look!”

Bucky blinks, tearing his eyes from you, even as the children, and you, all now turn your attention to him in varying shades of wonderment. He’s still a small distance away, but it doesn’t matter as not even a second later, he’s being swamped by the pack of energetic youngsters.

“Are you a photographer?!”

“Can I see it?!”

“Will you take my picture!?”

The last request sets off a frenzy, the rest of the children all joining in to ask for their picture taken, and honestly, Bucky doesn’t even think he has enough paper for that.

“Hey! Mascalzoni! Leave the poor man alone!” You appear then, hands on your hips, not even two meters away and Bucky thinks he could faint.

“Oh, they’re—” He cuts himself off, switching to Italian.

“They’re fine, really… I just don’t think I have the photo paper for it…” He explains, trying his best to look you in the eye, but not quite making it. You cock your head in sympathy, and clap once, getting the children’s attention once more.

“Come on, stop it. Can’t you see you’ve scared him?!” You say playfully, though Bucky wants to correct that it isn’t them he’s scared of.

“How are we supposed to get more tourists to Montecarra if you’re all scaring them away, huh?!” You continue, crossing your arms and the kids seem to relent somewhat, whining a little as they back up from Bucky. You give him another, apologetic smile.

“Come along, you all better get home before your mothers’ tan your hides!” You say, making a shooing motion that makes Bucky second-guess his teacher theory. Before any of them can begin to move though, he takes half a step forward, holding up his camera.

“Wait, I can— I can take a photo of you all together…” He says, and watches as even your face lights up, though as the children all begin to excitedly gather in front of the fountain, you step away, to his side.

“You don’t want to be in it?” He asks, throwing you a sideways glance and yep, you’re still just as pretty as before. You smile and shake your head.

“No. Not this time.” he doesn’t know what you mean by that, but focuses back on the children, raising the camera and snapping a shot of the children, smiling brightly.

Chaos ensues once again when the paper pops out of the bottom, further exciting the group as Bucky attempts to hold the picture out of their reach while it develops, unable to stop himself from chuckling at how spirited they were. It had been a long time since he’d seen any kid so carefree. Perhaps that was why the townspeople were so unphased by their noise earlier.

After the picture is passed around for all to see, you clear your throat and jerk your head away again.

“Go on, clear out now.” Far more happily the children bid each other goodbye, a few moving in pairs or trios as they split off in separate directions.

Bucky is all too aware that you’re still standing near him, and he focuses on cleaning his camera lens with his sleeve.

“Thank you.” You say kindly, with a slight bow of your head, and he finds himself shrugging and shaking his head.

“It’s alright, really.” he pauses, and then;

“Are you their teacher?” He doesn’t expect the surprised laugh you let out, shaking your own head vigorously.

“Hell no. I don’t have the patience for that! We were just walking the same way.” Bucky blinks, not expecting your language, though he finds it endearing, a little more grounding. He laughs.

“I see.”

“You’re the soldier, yes? From America?” The subject change catches him out for a moment, but he’s nodding a moment later.

“Sergeant James Barnes, ma’am.” He almost salutes, doesn’t and then thinks better of it, giving you one anyway. You cock your head at him, an amused smile pulling at your lips.

“I thought soldiers wore uniforms?” You fold your hands in front of you, and Bucky blinks, down at his casual civilian clothes, and then back at you.

“Oh, I, well, I do, but only when I’m working, these days…” You laugh good-naturedly at his awkward delivery.

“I was only teasing. I’ve heard from Rome that soldiers spend just as much time out of their uniforms as in them.” You say it easily, with a playful chuckle, but the risque connotations don’t go over his head, his eyebrows lifting high in his surprise.

Were you… flirting…? Or was this just how you were?

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, it was lovely to meet you.” You’re stepping back, giving him another smile (were you always smiling? He wants to know, now), and a little wave before you begin to turn. Bucky flounders at your fast retreat and panics.

“Uh, wait!” You look back, and he swallows.

“What’s… what’s your name?” You chuckle and push your hair behind your shoulder.

“Cristina.” You tell him and he repeats it, trying to roll the ‘r’ like you do, which makes you laugh again.

“People usually just call me Nina.” You offer a moment later and Bucky nods, before giving you his own, more commonly used nickname.

“Bucky?” You repeat, almost unsure, but when he nods, mouth dry at hearing his name on your lips, you smile and nod.

“Bucky. I will see you around, Bucky.” And with that, he watches dumbly, awestruck in his place as you float out of the plaza.

—-

The warm breeze carries through the open windows of your house, sending the scents from the kitchen below wafting around the rooms. You’d already finished your work for the day, and the chores your mother assigned you, and with a slight pep in your step, you finish tying the scarf around your hair and grab your book.

“Mama? I’m going to read!” You call out, pausing for a moment to listen for her reply. You hear a faint humming above the radio and quickly take your leave, skipping down the front steps of your home and out of the walled front courtyard.

Montecarra is hot and warm, like it had been every other day this week, but you don’t mind. The streets you pass through on the way to your nook are quiet, with only the occasional Nonna in her garden, or returning from the markets. There had been more people here once, a long time ago, and in your childhood days you remember visitors, passing through and admiring your home on their way to other places. You missed that deeply, but push it from your mind, trying not to sour your day at the thought of your already sleepy town becoming sleepier.

You reach your normal place quickly, little plaza toward the outskirts of town, many of the houses here empty now. One of the homes, a double storied one like your own, has a tall garden wall that sits in the shade of the tall tree behind it. Midway through the wall, high enough to take some effort to climb, sit a series of three empty archways, glassless windows that give a view of the overgrown garden within, and from the other side of the little square beyond.

Nobody came to this part of town, not anymore, and in recent years, you’d found it the perfect place to sit unbothered. Tucking your book under your arm, you hitch your skirt up a little, and use one of the roots that climbs and decorates the wall with green ivy as a foothold. The archway isn’t high, but you certainly couldn’t get to it without a little help.

Once situated, you lean back against the pillar, bringing your feet up in front of you, and rest your book against your thighs and knees. You lose yourself quickly in the words, devouring the stories of far away places, detectives and mystery and murder. When the Nazi’s had been here, you hadn’t been allowed to freely enjoy such things. You’d been hidden away, scared everyday would be your last, but it had never come. They had left, and you had been safe again once more.

It was why you enjoyed sitting outside, in the sun and warm, basking in a world that was purely yours again.

Well, not just yours.

A quiet, but pointed cough makes you jump slightly, and you whip your head to find the source, shutting your book on instinct before your eyes find him, and you smile.

“Good Afternoon, Sergeant Barnes!” You greet, and the man returns your smile, lifting his hand briefly. You had known he was coming of course, your whole town did. He was helping the men rebuild the old schoolhouse, though he seemed to have finished that task for the day, as you had finished yours.

He was a handsome man, with dark hair and blue eyes, his pale skin lightly tanned on his face and arms from days in the Italian sun. He was young, though older than you, likely nearing his late twenties if you were correct. You hadn’t known who he was during the war, but afterwards, you’d had plenty of newspaper fodder to read. You think most of it must have been trash though, because the man the magazines and gossip columns had labelled as a charming, suave ladies man could not be the same one that stood before you now.

“Bucky. Bucky is fine, Senora Cristina.” He replies, his eyes dropping a little as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Well then you must call me Nina.” You reply, keeping up your smile for when he looks back at you. When he realises you haven’t looked away from him, he quickly averts his gaze again, but clears his throat and looks around the empty plaza, waving a hand.

“Quiet spot?” He asks, and you turn from where your back is pressed against the brick, swinging your legs over the side of the wall to face him properly. You nod.

“Yes. The people who lived in this part left. We don’t know if they’ll come back or…” You trail off, pursing your lips briefly, but shake your head. No. No time to dwell.

“It’s a good place to come to be alone.”

“Oh, I can— I can leave if you’d lik—” Bucky’s face falls into anxiety stricken concern as he gestures with his thumb toward the little road you think he must have come from, but you cut him off quickly, laughing.

“I was not attempting to chase you away!” You tell him, and he drops his hand back to his side. For a few seconds he just looks at you, like he’s unsure of what to say, and so you fill the silence the best you can.

“How do you like Montecarra?” Bucky nods quickly, his body language immediately relaxing somewhat. You wonder if you make him nervous because he’s unsure how to speak to women, or if it might be something else.

“It’s beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop looking, you know? We don’t have towns like this where I’m from.” You smile at his clear enthusiasm, and cock your head. You’d never been to America, you’d never even really been more than a few miles from your home, so you can’t imagine what towns must look like there.

“The people are friendly, I mean, everyone is friendly everywhere, but the people here are… they don’t seem to want to be around me twenty-four-seven.” He adds, and then clamps his mouth shut, as if he’d forgotten who he was talking to. You think maybe he hasn’t been around friends in a while. You shrug, and chortle.

“Oh, that’s just how we are. My Papa used to say that in the cities, nobody can leave each other alone because they don’t make real connections… but here and other small towns, we’re all we have, and after a while, you just get sick of each other.”

Bucky laughs, loudly and heartily, and you think it is a lovely sound. He says something in English, you think you hear ‘christ’, but he sobers, still smiling.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

“Though, you should be wary of signora Cavalli… she’s like a venus flytrap, you know?” You say seriously, but with a conspiratorial edge so that he knows you are only mostly joking. Bucky cocks his head in confusion, but chuckles.

“A what?!”

“A venus flytrap! You know! It’s a plant that looks all bright and colourful, but when bugs land on it it snaps shut!” You clap your hands together in demonstration.

“And then it eats them.”

“Are you… are you telling me signora Cavalli is going to eat me?” Bucky asks, eyebrows high and you take a moment to dramatically look him over.

“No. I don’t think you are her type. But she will start a conversation that will not end until either you or her dies, and trust me, she’s really old.” Bucky laughs again, hand on his belly this time, his head thrown back again, and you can’t help but break ‘character’ to laugh with him.

“Right. Avoid signora Cavalli. Gotcha.” He says as he calms, and again, he seems to have relaxed even more, the little pull that you had noticed between his brow yesterday, and earlier, even when he wasn’t frowning, had all but disappeared.

“Sounds like I need your guidance here. Clearly.” He continues, and you can’t help but feel excited by the prospect. You nod vigorously, and hop down from your ledge.

“Oh, definitely. I have lived here my whole life, I know all there is to know!” You tuck your book back under your arm and step nearer.

“I can show you around! There is more to Montecarra than there looks!” You pause and shrug.

“Well, a little more, at least.” Bucky appears torn for a moment, his face scrunching back into a polite concern as he holds his hands up.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, signora, I mean, Nina…” You roll your eyes and fold your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, signore, but there isn’t exactly anybody else my age around here… really you’d be doing me the favour…” He opens his mouth, but you quickly beckon him in a direction before he can argue, and you hear a faint sigh, and a few seconds later he’s matching your easy pace.

“I did notice that, actually…” He confirms, and you feel his gaze on the side of your face. His hands are back in his pockets, and he walks a respectable distance next to you.

“Well, there weren’t all that many to begin with but all the boys went off to fight, and the girls either got married and moved away, or left to study somewhere else.” You try to keep your voice light and airy, try not to betray your jealousy or sadness.

You had wanted to move to Paris and study, or London, anywhere, but the shadows of war had already begun, and it had been too uncertain. Looking back, you were reluctantly glad you had not been elsewhere. Your mother had needed you too much.

You come to another small courtyard, with a large tree at its center. It was one of the oldest in the town, and this part of the village had been built around it, as was obvious from the uneven and cracked stone ground, where the roots had grown large and disruptive.

You sling a hand around the trunk, slowly circling it in a careful swing, and Bucky oddly does the same, moving opposite you, so you are always on different sides. Oftentimes you were called childish or immature by others in Montecarra, though they never meant you harm by it. You were young at heart, and always would be. You know it was not proper for young women your age to be so restless, but you couldn’t sit still. Even just walking normally was a little boring after a while. You think it’s nice that this American man doesn’t ask you to stop or to stand still.

“You didn’t though?” Bucky asks, and then hurries to clarify.

“Get married or move away, I mean.” You chortle and lean a little further forward to see his face better as you both continually circle the tree.

“I was not good enough in school,” You lie.

“And no man would have me.” You laugh as you say it, not really meaning it. When there had been boys around Montecarra, you’d had no shortage of prospects, though how many of them would have actually married you was another question entirely.

Bucky scoffs, making an odd noise in his throat, and he fixes you with a look of disbelief.

“Well I know that can’t be right…” You smile, but look away at his kind words, before another thought hits you, and you stop moving, holding onto either side of the tree as you lean around it slightly.

“Montecarra must be exceptionally boring for you.”

Bucky stops moving too, and instead leans his side against the trunk, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you casually, eyebrow raised in question.

“To be in such a small town, with no women who aren’t married. Compared to Paris or Rome, I mean.”

You gasp suddenly then, and quickly switch sides, making Bucky have to turn too, and you can’t suppress your cheeky grin.

“Unless of course it’s married women who you’re after. No need to worry about commitment there.” You wiggle your eyebrows and Bucky’s face turns into a molten mess of amusement and bashfulness, sprinkled with pink cheeks.

He uncrosses his arms awkwardly and clears his throat uncomfortably, and you chortle, shaking your head. There was certainly part of him you could see being charming and suave, but for the most part, Sergeant James Barnes just seemed sweet. Eventually he just laughs too, also shaking his head, and he looks off for a moment, before he carefully turns to mirror your hold on the tree, leaning just slightly around it to look at you.

He still wears a coy look of meekness when he shrugs.

“You’re a woman who isn’t married, aren’t you?” He says softly, carefully, as if he’s not sure how you will respond, and does not wish to offend.

Offence is the last reaction in your mind though, instead you feel as if the world stops for a moment, and all that exists is you, this man, and the tree between you. Despite the carefulness of his words, his expression is a little harder, his gaze locked on yours more intense and you have to force yourself to look away, pulling back from the tree just to catch your breath and your rapidly beating heart.

Perhaps Sergeant James Barnes was sweet, but Bucky Barnes was a little more savoury than that. Suddenly, some of the things you’d read make more sense, and you find yourself reconsidering your interactions. Had he specifically sought you out? Or had he just been wandering and it was a happy coincidence. You lean toward the latter but perhaps he had hoped to see you again after your brief meeting yesterday?

You wipe these thoughts from your mind as Bucky too steps away from the tree, and fix him with an innocent smile and a shrug of your shoulder as you begin stepping backwards, ready to move along.

“I am.” You say simply, unsure of what else you even could say, but the moment seems to pass, and Bucky finally tears his eyes from you, watching his step as he makes to follow you again, down another narrow street.

You make light small talk with him as you move into busier parts of town, still a little shaken from his flirting (if that was what it was). He doesn’t seem to mind, and you realise you don’t need to fill the silence all of the time. He seems content to just look and watch, but when you do speak, to tell him something, or point out a particular shop, he listens carefully.

When you make it to one of the central courtyards of Montecarra, near the fountain where you had met him yesterday, you see that the afternoon sellers have set up at the market stalls where you’d been only this morning, helping sell. Jobs and money were hard to come by in your town, everything was so small and insular, and in the aftermath of the war, people had cared less about money to pay for goods and services, but rather taking care of each other in any way they could.

You were luckier than most towns, you’d been spared the massive damage of other places, but with resources still low, and many people still getting back on their feet, feeding each other had become a community job. Bakers would gladly accept trade for their bread, and doing chores or work for others had become a reliable way to not only give back but to earn too. The shops that had managed to remain open were supportive where they could be, and it made your heart swell several sizes to know that the war had not driven your people apart.

Bucky seems to take in the sights and smells of the markets with a dreamily like gaze, his eyes roaming over the leftover morning breads, some meats and vegetables that had not been bought or traded earlier in the week and where now for sale far cheaper.

Your stomach growls, reminding you that you have not yet eaten since your breakfast, and you groan. Usually you’d have set off home for lunch, or brought something with you, before returning to your nook, but being with Bucky had distracted you.

He looks down at you in response to your groan and you scrunch your nose.

“I would suggest we eat, but I left my purse at home.” You explain. Bucky blinks, and looks over at the food, then back at you.

“If you’re hungry, I can, I have my—” You tune him out accidentally as your mind conjures up a thought, and stop suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s arm in excitement. He stops speaking and stares down at you.

“I have a better idea…!” You say, grinning widely, and he cocks his head, looking slightly hesitant.

You release his arm only to grab the rolled sleeve of his shirt, pulling him along after you down a sidetreet.

“What— Where are we going…?” He asks, and then continues.

“And why do I feel like it’s going to be trouble?” You laugh loudly, and throw him a look over your shoulder, releasing his sleeve at last when you’ve led him through a maze of tiny alleys and narrow streets and out to the edge of town, near the main road he’d driven in on.

“Trust me.” You say, drawing out the words long and sing-songy.

“Give me reason to…” He mutters, but when you look over at him again, you can see he’s only playing the part of exasperated, his lips pulled up in the corners, and his eyes amused.

He follows you as you lead him up a long road, well away from town and towards where the fields and fields of orchards and vineyards begin. When you veer off the side of the road, toward one of the wooden fences, he stops.

“What are you doing?” He asks, a little more nervous than before, and you turn to face him fully.

“We’re going into the orchard to pick some fruit.” He fixes you with a squinted stare.

“Something tells me that we’re not supposed to do that…” You roll your eyes.

“Nobody will know. Besides, we’ll only take a few.” You bat your eyelashes the best you can manage and watch his resolve crumble. When he sighs, hanging his head while shaking it, you know you’ve got him, so you smile widely and quickly return to making your way up the fence.

Bucky at first seems concerned with you climb, moving quickly over to attempt to lend you a hand, but you hardly need it, lifting your skirt and easily scaling the posts before you land on the other side. Bucky stares at you for a moment longer, before planting his hands on the top piece of wood, and in one large jump, vaults the thing entirely.

You laugh at the sight, and cock your head.

“They teach you that in the army?” You tease, leading him away from where you might be spotted by the road, and into the thick rows of trees.

“Brooklyn, actually.” He tells you, and you spy him repeatedly looking over his shoulder and around, as if suspecting some kind of ambush. You pause, nearly causing him to walk into you, and put your hand on his arm again.

“Nobody is out here. It gets too hot in the afternoons, so they do all their daily harvesting in the mornings.” Bucky stares down at you, the little crease between his brows returning, but he nods at your words anyway.

Turning away from him, you once more gather up part of your skirt, lifting it well above a decent length, to use as a basket of sorts as you start inspecting some of the goods on ‘offer’.

“The peaches are especially good this time of year.” You say over your shoulder, reaching out to gently squeeze a few hanging from the nearest tree.

“I— What…?” Bucky asks, and when you look back at him, you see the vague pinkness back in his cheeks and refrain from rolling your eyes. Instead, you plaster on an innocent smile and hold up one of the fruits you’d plucked from the branch.

“The peaches. They’re very ripe right now. Montecarra always has the juiciest peaches. You can’t eat them without getting your fingers and mouth all sticky.” You look away then, placing the peach into your skirt and fight yourself to keep from laughing. Bucky remains quiet behind you, until you hear him let out a slightly shaky breath.

“Jesus fucking christ…” He mumbles in English, and you wipe the grin from your face before he can see it, as he finally steps closer to join you.

You end up with a nice collection of peaches, apples and some figs. You don’t take much, just a few, and by the time you’re walking the road back into town, your grumbling stomach is sated. You spent a few hours walking along the rows of trees, just talking and eating.

Before you properly enter Montecarra, Bucky tosses your peach pits, and you watch them fly through the air and disappear into some of the empty fields beyond. He looks down at you with a rather cute, proud and expectant smile, and you nod, clapping just slightly.

“Perhaps they will grow and we will have our own orchard.” You tell him, and he sniffs in amusement.

“Or we’ll have to explain where we got the seeds from in the first place.”

“Or that.” You laugh, nudging his side.

You notice he’d stopped keeping quite as large a distance between you when you walked, though you don’t know if it was conscious or not. The late afternoon sun bathes Montecarra in orange and red and shadows, and by the time you’ve walked across town to where you live, the sunset is well and truly in motion.

Sensing your time has come to an end, Bucky slows slightly, stopping when you turn back to him, and point to your house.

“I live here.” You tell him, and he shoves his hands in his pockets with a nod.

“My mama will expect me to help with dinner.” You explain further, though you aren’t sure why. You didn’t need a reason to part with him, it was early evening now and you’d spent the better half of five hours walking and talking and stealing fruit together.

You see Bucky’s eyes drift behind you, past the open archway of the wall that held your home behind it, and then back to you.

“Thanks for showing me around today. You didn’t have to.” He says and you smile, but shrug.

“Of course.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer before he nods, pulling a hand from his pocket to give you a parting wave.

“Goodnight.” He says softly, and turns, beginning to make his way back.

You step forward without thinking too much and call out, making him pause and look back at you.

“I— I work in the mornings, but you can always find me at the same place, where I was reading today. From about midday on. I’m always there… if you ever want to see me again.” You try to play it off cooler than you feel, shrugging a bit and giving him a nonchalant grin, but he only watches you.

Just as you start to feel discomfort creep in her shifts, dipping his chin slightly and cocking his head.

“I would like to see you again.” He says at last, and it’s just like earlier, around the tree. You feel a thick tension form between you, and even though he’s several meters away from you now, you feel like he may as well have been directly in front of you.

All you can manage is a nervous chuckle, dropping your eyes to the floor and anxiously tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Okay.” You say, and he must take that as your approval, because he smiles softly, and gives you one last parting nod before he walks away.

You watch him go for longer than you’d like to admit, right up until he disappears and you hear your mama call you from the front door.

—-

You see Bucky most days. After you had finished with your daily workload, you would return as normal to your little archway, only pretending to read until Bucky arrived. Sometimes he would bring his own book, and sit beside you in one of the opposite arches, but most days you spent walking aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing.

He would tell you about New York city, describing the streets and the buildings and the people in such detail you could see it in your mind. He’d show you pictures of places he’d been, other cities and towns in Italy and France and you’d been unable to keep from fawning dramatically over each.

You’d been warned by a few of the older local ladies, that American soldiers were notorious for the dalliances with girls, they’d have them and leave them, moving on to the next place as if it were nothing. But Bucky is different, you think. You weren’t so naive to think a man set on simply chasing what he wanted would change for just you, but Bucky never showed intention to chase. Not really.

He was kind, and sweet, and he never spoke to impress you like you’d seen with some boys before. He listened to you, asked for your opinions on subjects you spoke about and never assumed that you weren’t informed. You had revealed your love for reading to him, and he’d not complained once when you’d ranted for far too long about the plot of your newest book.

He never even tried to hold your hand, which was beginning to trouble you. You had given him plenty of opportunity, walking accidentally too close, and brushing your hand by his just slightly. He’d always apologised or ignored it, and you were becoming frustrated. It was not as if his flirting had stopped, when the opportunity arose he’d coyly spout sweet things that made your stomach churn something awful.

You look up from the page you’d been staring at for the past ten minutes without really seeing it, and blink. Perhaps you were wrong and he was just this way all of the time… but then you remember the moments of intense eye contact when he’d look at you and it felt like nothing else in the world existed at all.

No. no, you decide that perhaps you will have to give him a little push.

“Has d’Artagnan won the heart of Lady Constance yet? Or is love dead?” The voice, his voice, startles you so much you squeak, whipping around to find where Bucky has situated himself against the same wall your archway sits in, leaning on one shoulder with his arms crossed over his chest.

Today he hadn’t changed from his morning’s work, and you have to simply give yourself a moment to take in his uniform. It wasn’t the dress greens you’d seen on men in the newspapers, instead he wears a greeny-brown colour, the material slightly thicker in appearance, rougher almost. In lieu of the long dress coat, he wears a jacket that ends just over where you imagine his belt might be, cinching in his form rather nicely. His shirt bears the same colour as his suit, but his tie is a familiar khaki. Pins and medals and ribbons adorn his chest and you want to inspect each one up close, but you refrain.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart.” He flashes a smile, letting you know he’d noticed your long, admiring stare. Sunglasses cover his own eyes, refusing you access to their cool colour, and you hope he takes them off. Your mouth feels dry but you force yourself to shift to face him, hanging your legs over the side of the wall once more.

“Startled is not scared.” You correct, and watch as he pushes off from the wall casually, making his way to where you sit. He’s tall enough that should he so wish, he could climb into your archway no problem, but he doesn’t, simply resting his folded arms on the ledge next to your legs, looking up at you. At this angle, you can see behind his glasses, to where his eyes fixate on your face.

“You didn’t answer my question?” He probes and you have to think back, unsure of what he’d even asked you.

“Has d’Artagnan won over Lady Constance yet?” He reminds you, reaching out to pluck your copy of The Three Musketeers from your lap and study the cover.

“No, I was going to read more last night but the power went out again and I don’t trust myself not to fall asleep with a candle burning.” You sigh, pushing some hair from your eyes. Bucky places the book gently back down and hums.

“Did you come straight from work?” You ask, switching the subject, and as if he doesn’t notice his clothing, he peeks down at himself briefly, before he cocks his head and gifts you another grin.

“What, can’t a guy wear his uniform around a gal to impress her?” He counters, clearly joking. You scoff anyway and lightly shove his arm.

“I think I’m sick of military uniforms…” You had meant it as a continuation of his joke, but you mean the words far too much to avoid the melancholy that seeps in.

You force yourself to look away, and take a few deep breaths.

Bucky had gotten around to asking you the obvious question of how you, with your brown skin and ‘ethnic’ features, had not suffered during the war. You told him the truth; that your neighbours had hidden you and your mother in attics and basements for nearly five years.

He’d been quiet and pensive on your answer, before telling you he understood why you spent so much time in the ridiculously hot sun. He’d made you laugh, something that you hadn’t ever thought you could do when speaking about your time during the war.

A hand gently, feather-light, curls over your own in your lap, and it takes everything in you not to jump. When you look back at him, his features are sad and serious and he gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Me too, darlin’.”

You want to say something, to maybe turn your hand over and feel his palm against yours, but before you can he removes it from yours, pushing back off the wall.

“I had an idea earlier, when we were clearing the rubble away.” He extends his arm to you, waiting patiently for you to make the short jump down from your perch. Linking your arm with his, he turns you to begin walking, but reaches out and plucks your book from you, tucking it into his jacket.

“An idea? I’m not helping with the mess…” You tease, and he gives you a sideways look.

“No. Riccardo said if I were truly suffering so much in the heat, I should go to the beach.” You perk immediately, gasping softly. You hadn’t been to the beach in so long.

“The beach!” You repeat, and Bucky grins, pride showing clearly through at his effort to delight you.

“I was thinking we could grab my camera, and head on down for the afternoon. I don’t think I have anything to swim in but even just dipping my toes…” You’re already nodding frantically, pulling away from his arm as you clap and do a little jump. You really couldn’t help it, you hadn’t been down to the water in many years.

“Yes! Though, did he tell you how long a walk it was? We should be careful of it getting too dark, my mama has already started—”

“—We can just drive.” Bucky shrugs, and you pause, blinking. Yes, you knew he had a car the army lent him, you’d seen it once or twice even but…

“I’ve…” You trail off and stop speaking entirely, shaking your head, and trying to plaster back on your previous excitement, but Bucky had already seen the slight fall to your face, and he frowns.

“What? What’s wrong?” He steps forward, toward you a little, his hand absently out as if to take your arm, though he drops it a moment later.

“It’s nothing. It’s silly.” You attempt to brush him off but he only moves closer still, right up to you now, and this time, the tension isn’t the same as it had been before.

His head bows down toward you, his frame nearly cocooning yours, if anybody were to be standing behind him, they likely would not be able to see you. His hand does touch your arm this time, comforting, concerned and all of it makes your heart flutter like a million happy butterflies.

“I… It’s just that… I’ve never been in a car before.” You admit, and it really is a silly thing to make such a fuss over. Bucky must breathe a sigh of relief that your dramatics hadn’t been about something more serious, but you don’t see his expression or body language change at all for a few seconds.

“... Ever…?” When he does speak, there’s no amusement in his voice, no awe at how backwards and small your growing up had been that you’d never been in a car. He just… asks.

You shrug.

“We don’t need them here…” His face does relax a little, and he must realise how much he’s been crowding you because he clears his throat and shuffles back slightly, letting his hand leave your arm.

“Well… I think you’ll like it. It’s fast.” He says, before frowning.

“Not— not too fast.” He adds, and you have to smile.

“Well… Why don’t I go put my book away, I’ll find some bread and fixings and you can go change, and I will meet you at your cottage?” You suggest. You didn’t want to go all the way down to the beach without some sort of food, even if he said the trip would be fast in his car. It would also give you a chance to change from your day dress into something that you wouldn’t mind getting a little wet or sandy.

Bucky nods.

“Yeah. Okay. You know where it is?” You roll your eyes.

“Of course.” He hangs his head a little, and lifts his hands in defeat.

“Small town, grew up here. Got it.” You laugh. He’d mentioned once how even though he’d spent his whole life in Brooklyn, knew the streets and the major locations like the back of his hand, there were still places he’d never know where to even start looking for.

You part ways then, and quickly hurry home, the excitement thrumming through your veins once again. Not only were you going to get to go to the beach, but you were going to ride in a car!

You toss your book onto your bed without a second thought, quickly undressing and slipping on a lighter, older dress. It’s faded pale blue told it’s age, but the fabric was thinner, meaning you would have no problem if it got wet. You decide not to bother with stockings, removing both them and your garter in favour of feeling the sand with your bare feet instead, and slip your shoes back on.

Before you leave your bedroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and pause. Turning your face from side to side, you inspect your features carefully. You never bothered with makeup, it was expensive and you’d only end up sweating it off, but your eyes do linger on your lips for a moment.

Creeping upstairs, you sneak into your mother’s bedroom. She was out for coffee at one of your neighbours, still, you feel nervousness take hold when you find the small golden tube in her drawer. Taking a deep breath, you uncap the lipstick and lean forwards for a better view, before carefully swiping the deep red colour across your lower lip. You follow suit with the upper, fixing it here and there, and swiping to try and neaten it up, but when you stand back to inspect yourself, you groan in frustration.

You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, and your painted lips and bareface didn’t communicate that at all. Grabbing a tissue, you quickly work to remove the makeup, rubbing at your lips until the bulk of the colour is off. However, when you stop to check again, you find the red has somewhat stained your skin. It only really adds a subtle flushed red over your usually brown lips, but it's still noticeable, and you panic, grabbing another tissue and trying again to no avail.

Time ticks by and you check your watch, not wanting to make Bucky wait too long, and so you pocket the stained tissues and take a last look in the mirror. Your shoddy clean up job would have to do. At least the stains were on your lips and not around them.

In the kitchen you gather up a small selection of items in a basket, just some bread and butter and homemade jam, and tuck an old blanket over the top to secure it all, and so that you could sit on it later. Checking everything one last time, you slide the basket to the crook of your arm and close up your house behind you.

You have to stop yourself from skipping as you make your way through the streets, smiling and greeting those who pass you politely and not like a mad woman. By the time you make it to Bucky’s little cottage, you can already see him leaning back against the car, waiting. He straightens when he sees you, smiling as you slow down, feeling almost hesitant about approaching the car.

“Here, lemme take this…” You let him grab the basket from you and watch him open one of the back doors, placing it on the floor, behind a seat. When he shuts the door again with a click, he turns to look at you in a both expectant and patient manner.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the other side of the car, and you let him lead you around it, swallowing as he pulls open the front side door for you.

“There you go. You know, you’re lucky this is your first car ride. This is a nice car, apparently.” You let Bucky take your hand to help you in, and for the few seconds after he’s shut your door behind you, and you see him jog around to the driver’s seat, you feel an immense awkwardness settle over you.

When he’s climbed in beside you, he gestures to something above your head.

“Here, that’s your seat belt. I know a lotta people don’t bother with them, but… better safe than sorry, right?” You nod, and reach out to grab the little buckle, not realising that the sun had been baking the metal since it had come up.

You rip your fingers away from it with a hiss, cradling them to your chest. Bucky jerks and is immediately leaning over to help you.

“Shit! Sorry, I— I forgot to tell you to be careful of the— here, look, you gotta grab the plastic part…” Your slightly burnt fingers are all but forgotten when Bucky leans right over you, directly into your space as he pulls at the belt, drawing it down and across your body, to your hip.

You watch him click the buckle together and blink up at him when he leans back, face still pulled in a wince.

“You okay?”

“Yes… I just wasn’t expecting it… it didn’t really hurt that much…” He looks like he wants to say something more, his eyes darting down to where you lower your hand back to your lap, and your face, but he eventually settles with a nod.

“Okay. Okay.” He repeats, twisting to face frontwards in his seat again as he begins readying the car. You watch him fiddle with the keys, jumping slightly when the engine roars to life all around you, but you only chuckle at the look Bucky sends you. He lifts one hand from the wheel, to hold onto a tall gear stick in the center console, shifting it a few times before you feel the car begin to move.

Despite your nerves, you can’t help but feel the excitement in your bones, and as Bucky starts to slowly drive along the outer roads of the town, toward the western most side, you can’t stop yourself from staring out the window.

It wasn’t as if you’d never seen any of these places before, but it felt different now. You feel Bucky’s eyes flick over to you every so often, a low chuckle you can barely hear above the car reaching you, but you’re too enthralled to do more than return his smile briefly.

You settle down a bit as you hit the main road. It's still a very new experience to be moving so quickly down a road you’d only ever been along at a walk. Bucky seems content in the quiet, but about halfway through the trip, he changes his hand on the steering wheel, to reach down for something on the side of his door. You watch him fumble for a moment, before he behinds winding a little lever, and you turn your gaze to where the window now rolls down, filling the car with fresh air and the sound of light wind.

“You’ve got one too,” He briefly takes his eyes from the road to point your own window lever out to you, and excitedly, you rush to unwind it. You laugh then, like a child, and lean forward to get a better view, to feel the wind blow over your face. It doesn’t last long though, the second you feel your hair get thrown about, you yip, ducking away with another laugh, but attempting to smooth back your hair again.

Bucky grins over at you, and he shuffles, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, resting his elbow on the window frame casually. With his spare hand, he rests it on his thigh, fingers tapping.

“Lotta women wear a scarf, to keep their hair from getting wrecked…” He tells you, and you make a note for if you ever ride in the car again.

“You were right.” You tell him, finally sitting back in your seat and relaxing. Bucky cocks his head, briefly glancing at you, but mostly he keeps his eyes forward.

“Hmn?”

“I do like this.”

You arrive at the beach in no time at all, the lone western road leading right down to the water. Bucky brings the car to a stop away from the road, on a patch of grass that separates the rest of the land from the sand dunes. On your right, some ways away, the land lifts, creating a rocking cliffside that encloses this section of beach neatly. You knew from your childhood that there were some caves accessible, but you’d always been told to stay well away.

Bucky grabs the basket from the backseat, and you wait for him to catch up with you before you begin treading down onto the sand. The sand is hot and pale, and the smell of sea water calls you, but as much as you’d love to throw yourself toward it, you direct Bucky to a small cropping of rocks and boulders that rested near the dunes, far enough back that the incoming tide wouldn’t reach them, but near enough to the water to be sure your things would be kept safe.

Bucky follows your lead as you kick your shoes off, climbing to the top of the largest boulder easily, it's jagged surface perfect for climbing, as long as you didn’t step on a spike. The boulder stands almost up to Bucky’s chest, and was quite large from a top side view. You beckon him to give you your basket and he watches as you quickly lay out the blanket. When he can see you settling, he joins you, scaling the rock quickly, and taking a seat beside you, where you’ve now begun to pull the bread and spreads from the basket.

“This is a nice spot.” He says scanning the horizon critically. You see his gaze turn up towards the nearby cliffs, scrutinizing them thoroughly with slightly squinted eyes. His face is so intense, you can’t help but look too, wondering what it was he was seeing, but when you turn back to him, he snaps out of it, plastering an easy smile on his face.

You open your mouth to question what he’d been looking at when he grabs the jame, and turns it over in his hands.

“Homemade?” He asks, clearly excited by the prospect, and even though you still want to know what he’d just been thinking about, you let it go, recognising a subject change when you saw one.

“Yes. My mama is very good at cooking. She cooks a lot for other people.” You tell him, buttering a thick slice of bread before handing it to him.

“Do you?” He puts the jam down as he takes the bread and a butter knife from you, beginning to spread some of the sweet, jellied fruit. You scrunch your nose.

“I don’t cook a lot. Mama says I should do more.” You roll your eyes and Bucky snorts.

“Why?”

“So that when I get married my husband won’t be displayed… or something.” You bring one of your legs to a bent position, like you were crossing your legs but only chose to do one, and shift your center of balance to be more comfortable.

The blanket was a nice touch, but it didn’t make the rock you sat on any more homey.

“I don’t understand… why women have to do so much to keep a man. If they love you, shouldn’t they not care about how well you cook or how clean your house is?” You glance at him, genuinely asking. Bucky was, as you well knew, a man, he may have insight you did not. He frowns, mulling over his thoughts as he chews his mouthful.

“I think some guys want a housekeeper more than a partner. I don’t think a lot of mother’s help that, either.” It’s your turn to frown and you cock your head, gesturing he go on. He adjusts a little, and looks off as he speaks, only glancing back at you a few times as he explains.

“It’s a cycle, right? A lady gets married, she looks after her husband, they have kids, a boy and a girl,” He pauses, takes a small bite, chews, swallows and continues.

“Now, as the girl gets older, mother starts to prepare her for when she’ll get married, so she takes on some of the household chores. The son however, he gets looked after right up until he leaves the nest. His food is cooked for him, his room is cleaned, his clothes washed…” You start understanding what he means, and nod slowly.

“By the time he’s serious about looking for a girl, he thinks they should be how his ma and pa were. I’m sure there’s love and affection, but in his mind, if she’s not doing those same things he grew up with, then how much can she really love him?” He ends with a shrug, looking at you, and you have to admit you’re genuinely surprised by his honest point of view.

But he sits up a little straighter then, and points to himself with the bread still in his hand.

“My mother would never let me get away with that.” He tells you solemnly, and you chortle at his deeply serious, over the top expression.

“Oh?”

“No ma’am. When I was sixteen she showed me how to use the machines at the laundromat, and if my room wasn’t spick and span at the end of the week I’d get it.” You laugh at the thought of a woman with Bucky’s same eyes making him remake his bed.

“And cooking?” You press, and Bucky shrugs again.

“I grew up watching her cook, helping her in the kitchen… I ain’t sayin’g I’m good. But I wouldn’t starve.” You laugh again, his stories uplifting on your general view of how things were ‘Supposed To Be’.

“Anyway, the point is, the only thing that makes a good husband or wife is that you care about one another. Everything else is negotiable.” You grin, and nod, look out at the water as he words sink in, before you sharply side eye him.

“Everything except fidelity. I’d cut off my man’s—” You cut yourself off before you can say too much, but Bucky has already begun howling with laughter, leaning all the way back to rest on his elbows, he places a hand to his chest as he guffaws gleefully.

When he calms down, still snickering quietly he nods several times to himself and gives you a look.

“I don’t doubt you for a second, sweetheart.” Your chest flutters again at not just the pet name, he’d taken to using various ones, but the softness in his voice when he says it. It makes you nervous, it makes your stomach feel like the rolling waves of the ocean before you are happening simultaneously in there too.

“Right, well. Let's cool off, huh?”

Bucky rolls his pant legs up to just above his knees before he treads into the shallows, and you lift your skirt just a little as you join him. You wallow about in the water for some time, talking about nothing in particular. At one point, he realises he’d left his camera in the car, and races back up to get it, returning with a piece of photo paper already developing in his fingers.

“Took one from the dunes. It’s a nice view.” He explains as you lean over to peer at the little print. You can make out your figure, distant in the photo.

Bucky takes several more pictures, of the cliffs, of the long expanse of shoreline on the other side… You let him be for a while, moving back up to the rock and the blanket, perching yourself on the edge as you just take in the cool sea breeze and watch Bucky move about, deeply focused.

It was sweet really, though you don’t know how many of the shots look the same.

The warm sun and your general relaxed mood lull you to lie back, fixating your gaze on the blue skies and clouds above. Your skin grows warm and a little moist under such direct sunlight, but it feels nice. You aren’t sure how long you lie there for, you even doze off for a little bit, but some time later, you hear Bucky approaching.

“Can I take your picture?” He asks as you sit up, shielding your eyes for a moment as you do.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” You want to protest that he shouldn’t waste his photo paper on you, but he’s already stepping back and bringing the camera up to check if he’s too close or far.

“Wait, let me move.” You tell him, shifting to sit side on, with your feet on the rock and your knees bent up, like you would sit in your reading nook. Bucky waits for you like you ask, adjusting a little notch on his camera before he lifts it back to his eye, peering through. You expect him to take the photo right away but instead you see his lips part and his tongue swipe out to wet them as he swallows and draws the device away again.

“Uh, your— your skirt sweetheart, it's…” He trails off and gestures at his own thigh, prompting you to glance down at yourself.

Oh.

With your legs up like this, and perhaps with the help of a little sea breeze, your dress had shifted far up the length of your leg, far more than what was proper or should be photographed, and yet, your mind begins to whir.

You cock your head innocently, and hook your finger under the hem, drawing it back even further, until almost the whole side of your leg was on display. As you do, you pop your shoulder forward and rest your chin on it, grinning widely, invitingly.

Bucky just stares for several moments, and you see him swallow again. He seems to fumble with bringing the camera back to his face, and you see his mouth in what you’re certain is English cussing. It only makes your grin that much wider.

He takes the picture, lowering the camera immediately to catch the photo it spits out, though, he keeps glancing back up at you. You only flutter your eyelashes as best you can and make sure to fix your skirt somewhat. You sit forward again, and rest your hands either side of your legs, leaning toward where Bucky still stands.

“May I see?” You ask, and he jerks, starting toward you right away.

“Y--yeah. Of course…” You note with a quiet snicker how he stands at least two feet away from you when he holds out the photograph, and you take it from him, inspecting it.

“This is a good one.” You tell him.

“Yep. Yeah. It is.” He’s aware you’re teasing him now, and you give him a smile over the top of the picture.

“You won’t throw it away?”

“Why… why the hell would I throw it away?” You shrug and hold it out to give back.

“I don’t know…”

Bucky reaches out for it, but just before he can take it from you, you pull it back.

“On second thoughts, I don’t know if you can be trusted with this.” His face resembles a rain cloud, his frown confused and deep.

“What?”

“I think it might end up in the bottom of a box somewhere… I should keep it.” Your lip quirks, and he can see the cogs turning as he realises you’re only playing. He rolls his eyes and goes to grab it from you again, but you pull it away again.

Before he can corner you where you sit, you jump off the rock, ducking to the side as he lunges, making you squeal.

“Come on, sweetheart, let me have it…” You keep moving backwards, even as you turn to face him, the photo clutched to your chest. Bucky has turned to pursue you, though he’s only walking, hands on his hips.

“You’ll have to catch me!” You take off running, unable to keep from laughing as you do, Bucky’s own chortling reaching you as he gives chase.

You duck and weave out of his reach, and even though he’s far bigger and fitter than you, you were smaller, and the drag of the sand didn’t affect you as much. He almost gets you twice, his fingers grazing your dress, and when he does finally catch you, it’s with his arms around your middle, seizing you mid stride and pulling you back.

The momentum sends you both tumbling to the sand, your back hitting it lightly. Bucky falls over you, though he catches himself before he can crush you proper. All you can do is laugh, breathless from the chase and from the fall, and most certainly from the fact Bucky now lays atop you.

He’s laughing too, his face close and his breathe warm. He shifts to lift one hand and pluck the photo from your fingers, still held to your chest, trapped their by his own body. He’s still smiling when he makes a show of placing the photo in his top pocket, and buttoning it close, and then he drops his hand, resting it back in the sand by your head.

“I caught you.” He says simply, and all you can do is nod dumbly. His eyes fall to your mouth, and you suddenly remember the lipstick debacle. You’re about to make an excuse, or explain what had happened, when he leans in, dropping his lips to your own softly. You don’t mean to, but you gasp quietly, heat pooling in your face when you feel Bucky smile, and hear his light chuckle.

He doesn’t stop though, and you gladly return the kiss at last, lifting your chin so he could reach you easier or have more of you, you don’t know. Bucky shifts over you, his knee digging into the sand as he lifts some of his weight off of you, but before you can complain, he’s holding your face, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

When you part, reluctantly, you’re all too aware of how heavy you’re breathing, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Bucky’s eyes drop to watch for a moment, and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin, but he looks away, moving to get off of you.

“Uhm… that okay?” He asks, scratching the back of his head a little awkwardly. You’re still just lying in the sand, watching him and trying to catch your breath.

He stands, and leans down to offer you a hand that you accept. You let him pull you to your feet, and by that time you’ve gotten at least a semblance of your sanity back. He’s looking at you cautiously, concerned maybe, but you intend to rectify that.

He hardly has time to catch you as you jump for him, legs wrapped around his middle, your arms around his neck, Bucky lets out a loud, hearty laugh as he makes to secure his hold on you. You lean in and kiss him again, heated at first, but then softer, until you’re only peppering little pecks to his lips.

“I’m gonna go with that being okay, then.” He confirms to himself. You giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush, and realise he’d been walking the whole time he’d been carrying you. He sets you down atop the rock, hands gliding under where he’d been holding your legs, before quickly removing them, like he didn’t want to overstep.

“You had better not lose that picture.” You warn, making him chuckle, and pat his pocket.

“Oh, trust me darlin’. It’s not going anywhere.”

The sun had already begun to set, and so you make quick work of packing up the small amount of belongings you brought. As you walk back to the car, Bucky carries the basket in one arm, and with the other, he reaches out to take your hand, firmly and securely, interlocking your fingers, and you feel your whole being ascend.

He doesn’t let go of your hand in the car either, reaching out to hold it there too, your intertwined hands resting on your thigh. It’s all too short however, and far too soon he’s parking the vehicle and helping you out.

“I’ll walk you back.” He tells you and you frown.

“What? No, you’re already home, I can—”

“—I’ll walk you back.” He says again, firmer, but with a playfulness that stops you from arguing further.

You wait for him to get your basket from the backseat, and when he does join you around at the rear of the car, his face lights up in realisation.

“Oh! Wait. Hold this for a sec…” He gently thrusts the basket into your hands and you blink, watching him jog into the cottage.

He reappears a few minutes later, carrying something long and cylindrical in his hand, and as he approaches you again, he flips it, catching it smoothly.

“Flashlight. For… for if your power goes out again…” He drops it in your basket before he takes it from you again, and you’re so genuinely touched by the gesture you’re frozen for a few seconds.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky frowns, cocking his head, but you snap out of it, leaning in to wrap your arms around his neck, only a hug this time. His free arms wraps around you instantly, and you aren’t sure you’ll ever get over how nice it feels to be held.

“Thank you. That’s very kind…” You say when you pull back. He just smiles at you, before offering you his arm, and walking you home.

—-

He takes you on a picnic.

It’s such a quaint idea that when he mentions it to you one afternoon, after kissing you goodbye on your doorstep, you can’t help but feel your eyes light up like two cartoonish hearts.

Bucky had assured you he would source the meal and perhaps some wine, but he’d need your basket once more, and the next day you find yourself lounging lazily under the shade of a tree, in the empty fields outside of town.

He’d brought bread, fruit and a bottle of red wine that you’d be very excited by right up until you’d had your first taste.

Bucky burst out in laughter at your expression, nose scrunched and brow furrowed, and he gracefully takes your glass from your hand.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it's an acquired taste…” He chortles, and you gladly let him pour what's left of your drink into his own, but you notice he doesn’t really touch it throughout lunch.

You talk for hours, clearing up the blanket so you can lie down next to one another and gaze at the cloudy blue sky. You ask Bucky to tell you once more about New York City, and as he speaks you gaze at him, gesturing wildly with his hands and smiling back at you every so often.

He was so pretty, for a boy, his eyes so blue, hair dark and lovely and smooth looking. Even his stubbly chin and cheeks, where you could clearly see he’d shaved just this morning look nice, and without really thinking, you reach out and brush the backs of your fingers over his jaw.

Bucky stops speaking, turning his head slightly to regard you softly, but you don’t stop. From the way he spoke about the war and missing his home, you think maybe it has been a while since he’d felt such gentle touches.

“See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” His smirk is barely a smirk, it's far too soft for that, but there’s still a hint of cheekiness in his gaze that draws you in. Laughing quietly, you rise to your elbow, leaning into his side where he’d previously been lying a respectable distance from you and press your lips to his jaw, then his cheek, and at last his lips.

Bucky kisses you back immediately, like he always did, lips moving softly against your own, carefully cupping the side of your face and pulling you down against him even further. Your heart races when he sits up without breaking apart from you, pushing you back so your positions are reversed. Out here you were practically alone, and even if somebody did come driving down the main road, with the tall grass nobody would be able to see you.

You wrap your hands up behind his head, tugging him down more, until he’s leaning against you fully, his forearms encasing either side of your head, a knee slipping between your own as your tongue slips between his lips. Your nearly come apart thena nd there when he moans, muffled by your kiss, but erotic all the same, and he seems to move more feverishly, kissing your quicker, bearing down against you harder.

You resist the urge to wrap a leg around him, but instead let your fingers scratch gently at the back of his neck, feeling yourself sink further and further into bliss with each tiny stroke of his tongue against yours, and each press of his clearly hardening length between your thighs.

You almost unhook your hands from his neck to lift your dress when he pulls back. At first he simply lays his forehead against your own, his eyes shut tight, and you watch him with rising disappointment and heavy breathing as he gently shifts his weight off of you, and dips his lips to kiss the tip of your nose, and then chastley at your lips.

“I uh… this probably isn’t a good idea…” You deflate, but push it aside. If he did not wish to go further, you wouldn’t pressure him. Still, the gentle ache between your thighs resists, begging for friction, for satisfaction. Bucky looks down at you, lips kissed raw and pupils dilated and it takes everything in you not to go for his pants then and there. He smooths down what he can of your hair, tucking some wilder pieces behind your ear before he kisses your nose again, and lays back down beside you.

On the walk back, the both of you are oddly silent, and although it isn’t uncomfortable, you still don’t like the awkwardness. You always felt like you could be truthful with Bucky, and you didn’t want to change that now, so tugging on his hand a little you slow your pace.

“I would have had sex with you, you know?” You squint at him and he blinks rapidly, face blushing quickly as he checks around to make sure there was nobody else present.

“Wha— I wasn’t—”

“—I’m not a virgin. I know what I’m doing.” You further assert, and he only continues to cough awkwardly, trying to reign in his clear embarrassment.

“Men aren’t the only ones who like sex. You always think us women are so eager to wait and ‘save ourselves’.” You roll your eyes then, and walk past him.

You don’t look back, but soon enough he’s hurrying to fall in beside you once more, taking your hand again even as he swallows.

“I never said you were, I just… I guess I’m not used to ladies talkin’ about it so… well, at all…” You side-eye him wryly and shrug.

“Look around, Bucky. In a town this small, there isn’t much else to do except each other. But all the boys have left now…” You shrug again, and this time Bucky laughs, letting out a slow puff of air.

“I guess.” He wears a look on his face like he wants to say something else, but he stays quiet. You slow down as you approach your home, and you’re about to ask when he stops just short of the steps leading into your front courtyard, and takes both your hands.

“I guess I wouldn’t want to take advantage. I’d want you to be sure.”

You purse your lips and roll your eyes again.

“I’m not a naive little girl.”

He laughs again and draws you near, quickly checking about to make sure no neighbour would spy the kiss he presses to your lips.

“And I’m not a boy.” The words send a thrill up your spine, and now more than ever you wish he hadn’t pulled away earlier. You swallow as he looks down at you, eyes intense and fiery and this time it’s your turn to swallow.

“I— I know…” You manage, and for a moment you can’t stop staring at one another.

Eventually, Bucky squeezes your hands and nods his head toward your home.

“You’d better—”

“—Oh! Yes… Goodnight…”

Bucky watches you as you make your way to your door and tips his hat when you look back at him before you close it.

“Goodnight.”

—-

Bucky can’t sleep.

It's late, he really should have been asleep hours ago, but he can’t stop thinking about you and what you’d said. As much as he curses himself for not seeking out the moment when he’d had you under him in the field, he’s also glad. You deserved more than a quick rut on a picnic blanket, and yet his mind wanders to Parisian nights, except all the women in his memories are replaced with you.

Would you be loud? Quiet? Would you say his name, drawn out and breathy? He decides he wants to find out.

It takes him no time at all to walk to your house, and when he’s climbed the side wall of the enclosed courtyard into the back garden, he sneaks on around to the open window on the first floor.

Surprisingly, you were either far from asleep yourself, or you had been suspecting his visit. You sit up in bed right away, but smile and hold a finger to your lips as you creep across to the window. Bucky leans against it comfortably, holding your hand when you half climb through to sit on the sill, legs dangling out beside him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, though your demeanour seems to be far more girlish, far more pleased-but-scandalised than you had been earlier, talking so frankly about sex. Bucky gives you his best smile and shrugs.

“Wanted to see you. What’re you doing awake?” He nods to your bed, the book and torch clearly lying amidst your sheets.

“I was reading.”

“I can go if you’d—”

“—No!” You whisper, socking him lightly in the shoulder, as if it were a ridiculous thought to even suggest he leave. In the moonlight he thinks you look lovelier than ever, and he scoots closer, until he’s resting his arms across your thighs and gazing up at you softly.

“We have to talk quietly though, my mother’s room is above mine and her window is also open…” You point, and Bucky looks, see’s the curtains billowing slightly out, and he nods.

“I’d let you in, but I think you might dissolve into a blush.” You tease him, and Bucky immediately perks, eyes lighting up at the challenge. He pulls his arms off of your lap and cocks his head.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, letting a hand gently curve up your calf. Your nightdress covers you from the knee up, but he ignores it, reaching underneath to massage softly at your thigh.

You don’t take your eyes off of him, even when he lowers his gaze to carefully push your knees apart. If anything you seem to lean back on your palms, watching him intently. Bucky meets your eye again when he snakes his hand further, forgoing your leg entirely to press the pads of his fingers against your core, eliciting a sharp inhale from the both of you.

“You don’t wear underwear to bed?” He can’t help but ask, pants suddenly restrictively tight and you breathe out slowly, clearly trying to remain quiet as he lets his fingers simply glide through you slick.

“Only when I’m expecting company.” You tell him, and he chortles, stepping closer and pressing his lips to yours.

Your head angles back for him, letting him set the pace of the kiss and gently, Bucky presses one finger inside. You almost gasp, but he kisses you harder, pulling back again just slightly, so your lips brush when he speaks.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” You nod vigorously, eyes not even opening to meet his, and Bucky leans back further, content to watch your head lull back and mouth part in the softest breathiest moans he’s ever heard as he slowly pumps his one finger in and out of you.

He’s laser focused on the task at hand, even despite his rock hard cock, and soon he’s adding another finger, slowly letting them sink deep into your velvety wet heat, his pride stoked when you further part your legs for him. He uses his free hand to push your nightdress up around your hips, and he nearly groans at the sight. Licking his lips he sets his eyes back on you, leaning in to nip and kiss at your neck, finally letting his thumb press down against your clit, massaging in circles as slow as his strokes, and he feels your muscles flutter.

A third finger joins the others and this time you seem to reactively grip his wrist, your other hand flying to slap over your mouth as your brow furrows deeply. Bucky knows he’s breathing hard, and after adjusting himself briefly in his pants, he pulls at the thin straps of your nightdress, getting it only half down one shoulder, but it’s enough.

He wraps his lips around your exposed nipple, swirling his tongue and nipping experimentally, feeling your hand wrap around the back of his head in approval. He stares up at you, desperately wanting to see your face when he finally pulls you apart and he’s rewarded only a few minutes later, his fingers fucking you far quicker, his thumb working faster.

When you finish, your cunt squeezes his digits relentlessly in waves of pleasure, and you make strained, soft little mewls as you attempt to remain quiet. Your hips shift and twitch and he doesn’t draw away from your breast until you’re blinking back down at him, gently pulling his hand away from your clit with bashful little laughs.

“At least… at least I won’t have to change any bedsheets…” You pant, and Bucky chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips properly, feeling your naked chest heave against his when he does. Your eyes seem dazed, and your face warm, but when he pulls away again you swallow and gesture to his own clearly bulging pants.

“I can—”

“—Not tonight…” And he means it.

“I just wanted… I just wanted to see you.” He says, and your gaze shifts from purely lustful to something softer, and you smile, dipping your eyes away for a second.

Bucky takes the moment to enjoy his view, your dress pulled up to your hips, your pussy still clearly on display, and your sleeves hanging well down to your elbows, breasts bare, nipples hardened and exquisite. He fights the urge to reach out and start all over again, maybe get his mouth on you this time…

“S’alright?” He rests his head in his palm and you chortle quietly, nodding.

“Yes. Yes, better than… than anything with other boys before…” He gets the feeling you aren’t just saying that to stroke his ego, the blissed out look on your face and the oddly bashful demeanour you’ve taken on requiring him to believe that he really had just properly blown your mind. He grins triumphantly, and leans in again, kissing your lower lip.

“I told you I wasn’t a boy.” He kisses you full again, loving the feel of your hand reaching up to hold the back of his head to you.

“I know.” You say when he forces himself back. You watch him as he carefully pulls up the sleeves of your shirt, covering you up again, and then fixes the skirt too, until you’re mostly modest.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart.” He tells you, and you hum, reluctantly climbing back through your window and standing on the other side. He kisses the back of your hand, but when he goes to pull away, you don’t release your hold on him, tugging him back slightly, and he blinks at you curiously.

Your eyes have taken on that same lustful expression from before and you cock your head.

“Will you think of me?” You ask, and at first, it doesn’t quite click.

“When you wrap your hand around your cock when you get home, will you think of me?” Bucky nearly chokes, nearly climbs right through your window and ends all the tension there and then, but he manages to hold strong, realising you were still somewhat teasing him.

“Darlin’ I will think of nothing but you, soaking wet and waiting for me…” He squeezes your fingers slightly, noting the approval in your eyes even before you nod.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“It has been, yes.” You finally let him go, watching as he clambers quietly back over your side wall.

And Bucky does think of you when he gets home, he strokes himself to the thought of your mouth and your cunt, and your tits bouncing in his face while he has you on his lap. It’s honestly the filthiest his mind has been since Paris nights drowned in alcohol and women he didn’t bother to get the names of. He knows your name though, sighs it again and again as he thinks of you.

He falls asleep hard and wakes up in the morning the same way, unable to stop thinking about you.

—-

In the days following Bucky’s midnight visit, you feel a giddy sort of happiness thrum constantly through your veins. Even now, as you sit up in your archway, trying to focus your mind on the letter you write to your distant aunt (you think you’ve met her all of once, but she’d written to you and your mother regarding your health and wellbeing in the aftermath of the war, so you felt obliged to reply). You find yourself able to write only several lines before you’d look up, searching, hoping perhaps Bucky would show, but even you know it’s too early… he’d still be working.

Part of you debates going to watch, the idea of seeing him labouring away in the hot sun, hopefully with his shirt removed, leaving him in only a singlet top… your stomach stirs at the thought, but you shake your head, and concentrate harder on your letter.

You manage to succeed too, losing yourself in describing Montecarra to your relative who’d never once left England, as she’d explained. It isn’t until some time later that movement catches at the corner of your eye, and you barely refrain from looking up as Bucky finally ambles into the courtyard. He must sense your buys-ness, because he doesn’t greet you as he nears, he just stops for a moment, before he continues forward.

At first you think he may approach you to wait, but instead he swiftly climbs into the open archway behind you. You take the time to pause in your own actions to peek at what he’s doing, only to find him sitting in mirror of you, his back to the same pillar yours is. After he settles he twists back and nudges your arm.

“Got any spare paper, darlin’?”

You try to pretend you hadn’t been watching him, but his grin says you’ve been caught out. Gathering a few pages from under your small stack, you hand them back to him, his fingers over your far too suspect for you to think it is anything other than purposeful. Still, you can’t help but smile, even as you settle back to finish off your letter, hearing him uncap a pen.

You find yourself referring back to your aunt’s letter to answer and reply to all of her questions and queries, and once again you almost forgot Bucky is there, until tugging on your sleeve draws you out of your reverie. You turn to look, expecting to be greeted with his lovely face, but instead, all you see is his hand, holding a page folded into a little rectangle.

Your chest flutters at the thought he’d been sitting writing something for you, and so your letter is quickly abandoned in favour of taking the little note. Bucky seems to remain as if he were oblivious to his own actions, humming quietly to himself as you unfold the paper and gaze down at the words.

‘Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?’

Again, your heart stutters, and you can’t hide your smile as you put pen to paper, drawing up your response. You refold it and hand it back the same way he’d offered it to you; tugging on his sleeve and holding it out. The page is plucked from your fingers quickly, and you try to distract yourself by turning back to your true task, only to be pulled from this once more when his hand reaches back, searching. You watch for a moment before he wiggles his fingers expectantly and you snicker, adjusting your hold on your paper, so that you can place your hand in his own.

You sit there like that for the rest of the afternoon, Bucky humming happily, your hands interlocked at an almost awkward angle, and you try your hardest to finish writing your damned letter.

He picks you up from your home later that evening, finds you waiting for him out the front. You hadn’t dressed up in a long time, and so when his gait slows and his eyes roam over you as he approaches, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.

You’d worn a simple red dress, but it was the nicest one you owned, the only one appropriate for dinner out. This time you’d committed to the lipstick, painted your lips red and done your best not to talk yourself out of it. You’d left your hair down, let it fall in loosely styled waves, and all together you felt part-movie star, part-fool.

Bucky whistles lowly, just quietly as he nears, and you have to scoff and roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment as he draws you in, hugging you just quickly before he pulls back, hands on your waist still, to inspect you closer.

“You look beautiful.” He tells you, voice soft and sweet and you know he isn’t pontificating, or trying to woo you.

“Thank you.” You reach out to smooth over his collar and finally force yourself to meet his eye.

“You look lovely, too.”

You feel lost in a slight high as you walk to the only real restaurant in town, in the main square. In the early evening the streets are quiet, only the occasional passerby, but the cafe remains open, seeing to a few quiet patrons, plus yourselves out on the terrace.

Bucky helps you with your chair and takes your order for you, pours you your drink… it's so normal and yet you’d never really experienced an evening like it. When your food is long gone, he scoots his chair around to sit closer to you and holds your hand softly in his while you talk aimlessly. You aren’t at all worried about being seen or judged, in fact the few moments in which you catch a passing couple take a look at you, you see kind eyes and sweet smiles, only making you feel dizzier.

“You enjoyed your meals, I see?” The owner, an older man named Matteo who you’d known to live in Montecarra for as long as you can remember, stops by to clear up your plates, and you nod enthusiastically.

“Wonderful, we’ll have to come back.” Bucky says, squeezing your fingers as Matteo smiles widely and agrees.

“Maybe next time I will have figured out how to work this named record player, then you will have music as well!” You and Bucky both seem to perk as Matteo throws a thumb over his shoulder, and Bucky straightens in his chair slightly.

“I can give it a look, if you’d like?” He offers, eyes already glued to the record player sitting atop the counter only a few meters away. The older man gives him a shrug and a gesture that clearly reads as ‘go for it’, as he finishes collecting the plates and patters back off to the kitchen.

You watch Bucky move over to the counter, fiddling with the player, though you can’t really see what he does. You know he’s fixed it however, when he throws a grin back at you, and plucks a record from beside the machine, pulling it from it’s sleeve and carefully placing it down on the turntable.

Music immediately begins wafting through the air, an upbeat tune you think you’d heard on the radio before, and Bucky comes speeding back over to you, hands held out even as he pulls you from your seat.

“Dance with me?” He asks, though he’s already wrapping his arm around your waist, and you move yours to his shoulder and hand respectively. There isn’t much room between the tables on the sidewalk, and although the song is happy, it’s not a rousing jazz tune, so you find yourselves simply swaying in each others embrace as the French lyrics begin to join the band.

You end up close, so close you forget anything else exists around you, Bucky’s forehead pressed against your own, your chests similarly compressed, as if neither of you could exist apart.

You have to laugh, thoroughly intrigued and enthralled when he begins softly singing the words to the song. It’s so different to hear him speak in a language that wasn’t Italian or English and it makes your chest ache for a reason you don’t know.

“I wish I could speak French.” You say quietly, Bucky’s lips quirk up but you shake your head.

“You must be so amused by how quaint I am… never been in a car, never left my town… never learnt any languages…” You don’t mean to sound so melancholy, but it hits you then, the ache in your heart stems from just how wonderful Bucky is, and how plain you are in comparison. But he’s frowning as you finish, shaking his head and adjusting his grip on you, wrapping you up even further.

“Never. I think you’re worldy in other ways…”

Your purse your lips, but as he opens his mouth to continue you cut him off, changing the subject.

“Can you tell me about New York again?”

Bucky’s expression falters, then lifts into a sweet smile, and you know his mind has wafted away to distant city streets.

“Of course…” He talks for ages about all the shops and stores available, about all the tiny apartment buildings and the decor, and his home block in Brooklyn. He tells you about the parks and the weather, and a place called Coney Island.

“... I think you’d like it.” He finishes, and you hum, having closed your eyes now, head to his shoulder as you attempt to imagine all that he describes. You feel him open his mouth to say something, to continue, but he doesn’t, hesitating and then remaining quiet, though he holds you firmer again, and you relish in the warmth of it.

Eventually, you have to let Matteo close up, and you bid the old man thank you and goodbye as you walk away hand-in-hand. Before you can get too far however, you stop, tugging on Bucky’s hand so you have his attention, the warm Montecarran breeze blowing your hair about.

“My mama doesn’t expect me home until morning.” You tell him, seeing instantly how his eyes change.

“Why’s that?” He manages to ask, stepping close again and you smile, shrugging.

“I told her I was watching some children in town overnight.”

Bucky hums at your reply, frowns as if in thought.

“Sounds as if you may need somewhere to stay, in that case.”

Bucky takes you back to his cottage, all quiet laughs and lingering touches as he leads you inside, placing his coat and keys down on the table, but any pretence is lost as soon as you kiss him. Clothes scatter around the small space, a gingerbread trail leading to his bedroom where he lays you down and peels the last of your underwear off.

Oddly, you feel less nervous about him seeing you naked than you had in your dress, maybe because he’d already seen you mostly this way, or maybe because at least naked it was real and you couldn’t pretend or hide, it was more honest.

You itch to touch him, but you don’t get the chance right away, his kisses leaving your lips quickly to travel down and soon you’re gasping, hands clutched tightly in his hair as he buries his face between your thighs, hands holding your legs apart as his tongue and lips work quickly over you, bringing you over the edge faster than you even thought possible. By the time he’s kissing you again, your mind is a haze of filth and desire and you guide him into you quickly.

Bucky is an excellent lover, his pace and angle perfect, his weight above you welcome as he thrusts into your warmth, desperate and wanting. He isn’t boring either, doesn’t end the night quickly, instead nearing his pleasure and stopping each time, drawing it out. He instructs you in various positions, making your belly spark with his knowledge of the female body, nearly sending you into a fritz when he takes you from behind, leaves you scrambling to hold on to something as you cry out into his sheets, his cock relentless as he fucks you through your orgasm, finally finishing with you, his hands curled around to pinch at your nipples, making your cunt bear down on him even more as you fall into a sweaty, moaning and panting heap.

He fetches you water, helps you fix back your hair in your still slightly dazed state, and pulls you near again, skin to skin as you drift off to sleep, lips pressed to one another even as your mind begins to wander.

In the morning you wake him with your mouth around his length, swallow him back as much as you can as he’s drawn from slumber by the pleasure, his hand reaching down to messily clutch at your hair. You watch him come apart for you, eyes fixed on his tilted head, creased brow and open mouth as he jerks into the back of your throat, hot warmth spilling forth that you swallow with ease.

He swears and curses as he rubs his eyes and you crawl up to lay beside him once again, finding his eyes looking at you as if to make sure you were real.

“Good morning, Sargeant.” You tease, only to have him cuss more, his chest heavily quickly up and down. You chitter and brush the slightly damp hair back from his head, a kiss to his cheek as you withdraw from the bed.

“Where’re you goin’?” He asks, blinking himself properly awake and you throw him a glance as you hunt for all your belongings.

“I have to go home, my mother does expect me at some point…” You explain, and he rubs a hand over his face once more, seeming to deflate a little.

“Right. Of course.”

You’re fully dressed when he manages to pull himself to sit on the edge of the bed, still naked, still just as fine as the evening previous. He looks up at you as you step nearer, braiding back your hair before you place both hands on his shoulders.

“Thank you.” You say simply, leaning down to peck his lips chastley. He hums against you, kissing you back and quickly you’re no longer pecking his lips, your hands roaming down over his shoulders appreciatively, his hands reach up the back of your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side and—

You gasp, giggling as you pull out of his reach, shaking your head and wagging a finger at him like a naughty child.

“No! No, I have to go home!” You tell him, even as he sighs, falling back to lie on the bed again. You can clearly see his hardening length and you fight yourself to just climb atop him once more.

“I will see you later!” You say pointedly, tossing a shirt onto his lap, to hide him from you, and you see him grin, chortling even as his hand travels lower, removing the shirt and wrapping around— you turn your back, flustered and tempted, but you leave his little cottage, determined to get home before your mama woke, so you could wash and change.

—-

Somewhere in the back of Bucky’s mind, he knew it wouldn’t last forever, but the end comes sooner than he’d expected.

He stares at the small pile of pages in front of him, their words all making sense in his brain, he understands what they all say, what they’re telling him, but at the same time, he comprehends absolutely nothing after the words ‘The United States Armed Forces herby discharges you with honourable service records…’

He was going home. They were sending him home.

At last he’d be able to hug his mother, see his sister, Steve, all the other fellas… he’d get to go home and really start his life post-war. He’d been waiting on this letter for months, a year even, more perhaps. At one time, it had been all he’d wanted. And yet, all that fills him now is a sense of dread, muddled with a bit of guilt, because he knows he really does miss his family, but…

When he sees you later that afternoon, sitting up in your nook like always, he can hardly bring himself to return your smile, sparkling and bright as always, for him. You pick up on his mood immediately, even if you poke fun. He knows he can’t delay, they expected him on his flight home from Rome tomorrow. The army loved their damn punctuality.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, face falling a little when he only half-heartedly chuckles at your joke, his eyes downturned, afraid to meet your own. He swallows, and shoves his hands in his pockets, squints into the distance.

“They’re sending me home.”

A beat passes.

When he finally looks back at you, he catches the tail end of devastation leaving your features, replaced instead with a hopeful, sincere grin.

You grab his hand, pulling them from his trousers.

“Bucky! That’s wonderful news!” You say excitedly, but he can only purse his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that! You don’t want to spend your whole life here, do you!?” You snort a little as you knock him in the shoulder, and he smiles thinly.

No, he didn’t want to live the rest of his life in Tuscany, but he’d been getting used to having a little slice of it around lately.

Your over-excitement fades, and you lean in to him cupping his cheek.

“You’ll get to see your mother, and your city… I know you miss them all…” He can’t help but frown at a spot on your dress, avoiding your eyes like a pouting child.

“I’ll miss you, too, though.” He mumbles, and you smile, scrunch your nose and shake your head.

“In no time at all this will all be a happy memory.”

Bucky wants to protest, lifts his gaze to argue with you, but the sharp, almost panicked look you give him as you shake your head again stops him.

“No, Bucky… Don’t. Please don’t make this sad… you’ve made me…” Your voice is cut off as you sniff, the shininess to your eyes spilling over just slightly, even though you smile softly.

“You’ve made me very happy, for quite some time. Let us leave with that.” You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face away and Bucky sighs, pulling you closer too, and resting his head atop your own.

He glares, frowns aimlessly at a nearby wall, barely even seeing it, focusing all his energy on swaying gently with you.

“Alright.” He says, voice a little rough. You sniff into the collar of his shirt, and he smooths his hands down over your back.

“Alright.”

—-

“We rented out your room to a shoemaker. You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch until we can convince him to leave.” Becca says flatly, half her words muffled as she’s drawn into Bucky’s chest. He holds her there tightly for several seconds before pulling back.

“Oh yeah?” He rubs at his chin.

“Don’t think the shoemaker will sleep heads to toes with me?” He wonders, and Becca scrunches her nose, laughing at the image.

Winnie Barnes shakes her head and lightly taps her daughter.

“Becca don’t cause trouble. Bucky, we left everything exactly the way it was.” His mother tells him, before hugging him for the sixth time since he’d landed. He just grins, and hugs her back each time. He’d missed her. So much.

They eat dinner together, Steve and Peggy come too, and afterward, the blond makes Bucky pull out his camera. After quickly pulling some choice images out of the pile, he lets Becca and his mother rifle through, telling them about each photo as he remembers it, the act rather therapeutic. He really had been gone for so long.

“Oh… who's this?!” Becca coos, half reading, half awed, and Bucky absently leans over to get a look.

His heart stops for a moment when he lays eyes on you, your smile wide and full of glee, the wind blowing your hair wildly about, your hand lifted to hold your hat on your head. Maybe he takes too long staring, maybe it’s just something about a sisters’ intuition, but Becca whistles, then gasps as she plucks another photo from the pile now tipped on the floor.

“Here she is again! And here too!” Even his mother gives him a sideways glance, but he can’t bring himself to feel too bashful.

He clasps his hands under his knees where he sits on the carpet and hums.

“Nina. I met her in a little town called Montecarra.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She is.” he confirms, as Becca continues to find photos with your face peppered throughout. He should be embarrassed about the amount of pictures he took of you, even ones where you aren’t doing anything but reading, but he really doesn’t.

“She your girlfriend?”

“Becca!” Winnie scolds, glaring at her daughter, but Bucky only laughs.

“I wasn’t lucky enough for that.” He shrugs, and his mother fusses.

“James Barnes, any woman worth her salt—”

“It’s not like that Ma… it’s just…” He trails off. He doesn’t want to say something to suggest he didn’t want to be here with them, because he desperately did. But he missed you.

“Well… I came home.” He shrugs, and his mother’s eyes fill with understanding. She purses her lips but frowns thinly, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Becca frowns too, but she recovers quickly, pulling out a new photo and asking him about the features in it.

She pulls out the ones of your face, but she doesn’t mention them again.

Bucky settles in. He truly comes home. He stops feeling like he’s living out of a suitcase. He finds a job, granted it isn’t hard, with the SSR setting up an office in the city, he barely had to ask for a job. On Fridays he went dancing with Becca, acting more like a chaperone than a participant, and on Sunday’s he went to church with his mother, holding her hand through the service and making nice with the old ladies after.

He settles in. He’s home.

And then, there’s a knock on the door.

It’s well after any kind of appropriate hours for visitors, but not late enough into the night that anybody was in bed. Winnie sits by the radio in the living room, listening to her stories while Becca scrawls out a letter. Bucky had been reading when the knock came, and he waves a hand towards the women when he stands.

“I’ll get it.”

“Who on earth calls at this time?” He hears his mother wonder aloud as he makes his way down the hall to the front door.

Swinging it open, Bucky feels ready to send off whoever it is, but he stops dead in his tracks. All sense leaves him, aside from sight. He’s only able to stare slack-mouthed as you blink back up at him.

He’s never seen you in so many layers before. It was winter in New York, but Montecarra seemed to be perpetually hot, so the most he’d seen you in was a light jacket… standing before him now, on his front steps, you have a coat, a scarf, gloves, a hat and he thinks those might even be earmuffs around your neck.

“I… Hello…” You begin, your voice heavily accented when you speak English, and even though Bucky shakes himself out of his stupor, he’s still dumbfounded.

“Hi…”

“I… I’m new to the city, and I thought perhaps you will… show me around?” You seem to be thinking hard about your words, speaking slowly to articulate them. You scrunch your nose when you finish, clearly unhappy with the outcome.

Bucky can’t even bring himself to respond. He’s down the two steps separating you in seconds, hands cupping both your cheeks as he kisses you, again and again, in quick succession until you’re laughing against his lips.

“What— how— what are you doing here?!” He stops and starts, but eventually gets some version of his thoughts out. He speaks to you in Italian, not wanting you to feel limited, and you shrug, gloved fingers splayed across his chest.

“My Aunt… the one from England… she offered for me to join her in America, for better opportunities…” You trail off, and Bucky decides you could tell him any reason and he’d have been satisfied.

“I’ve been learning English.” You say, and he nods, thumb stroking over your cheek. He can’t stop looking at you, he can’t believe you’re here.

“I can see that.” He replies, in English, and watches as you slowly understand.

“Buck? Who's at the door— oh! I- I’m sorry, I—” Winnie, with Becca just behind her, stops in her tracks at the door, cheeks tinged red at catching such an intimate moment, but Bucky can’t bring himself to pull away. He see’s Becca’s eyes flash with recognition, her face lighting up.

He forces himself to pull back slightly, guiding you forward.

“Mama, Becca, this is Nina… from Montecarra.”

——

“I thought you said you’d worked in all the kinks!?” You whine, only slightly impatiently, though Bucky can understand why.

“Worked out all the kinks, baby. ‘Out’.” You roll your eyes and mutter in Italian.

“I’m going to work you out in a moment…” You say louder, and Bucky relents, holding up his hands as he finishes fiddling at last.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming! Get ready!” He tells you, quickly rushing around from one side of the camera he’d set up on a pile of books, the little wired control he holds in his hand flashing red.

“Come bambino, please smile for Mr Camera!” You bounce the tiny baby boy on your lap, earning a bout of giggles, just as Bucky slides in next to you on the stairs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and placing his free hand on his son’s back.

“Ready?”

“Five minutes ago…”

“Say ‘Montecarra’!”

He presses the button, and the camera flashes.

Thank You Very Much For Reading!

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 6]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; cam show, mutual masturbation, daddy!kink, dirty talk, aftercare 😌 WHEWWWW the ball is rolling on our fave couple 😗😗 thanks for being patient with me and stickin’ it out even with my cliffhangers LOOOOOL 💕💕💕 I hope ya’ll enjoy~~ 😏 see yall in the next chapter and have a great weekend! be safe out there my bbys~ 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - ?

You don’t ask for favors.

Ever.

When you started camming, you learned how to work your lighting and cameras all on your own and started from the ground up; even if it was awkward at first. Every cent and every gift you’d gotten since then were given as donations and you’d made it a point to never ask for certain gifts or anything extra. 

Until now.

“Um, yeah, sure! Within reason, of course.” Seungcheol replies with a shaky smile. A million thoughts run through his head in the split second before you reply, palms sweaty at the possibilities.

You wait for him to finish signing the receipt, thanking him for paying for lunch. “Well… See here’s the thing, right? I’m… Well, god, how do I even start this?” You pause, awkwardly laughing as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with but… I’m in town until Sunday night and I was wondering if you’d help me film?”

Seungcheol can only gulp, body buzzing as he takes in your words. “I--I mean, I, uh, I’d love to but I don’t know… I--I really don’t want to move that fast and I’d like to get to know you better before we--”

“No--no! Oh my gosh, I--not like that. I’m--I’m in the same boat as you just, sorry, I should’ve been more careful with my words! I mean, like, would you like to… be there? With me. You can watch me film and help me set up?” You offer, head tilting cutely as you wait for his response.

“It’s just, y’know, I don’t have all my camera equipment and stuff so it’d be nice to have someone who can help me set up for once… But only if you’re okay with it!”

And Seungcheol is more than okay with it; fingers gripping the cup of ice cream tightly as he watches you eat yours.

“Hey, ‘Cheollie your ice cream is melting…”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He mutters, unable to focus as the two of you sit in a nearby park. You try talking to him the entire time; although your words go in one ear and out the other. He feels bad, not taking in anything you talk to him about but he can’t help the way his mind runs rampant at the thought of being in the same room as you while you cammed.

If there was anything he was glad for, it was that you were, at least, on the same page as him for now which meant no fucking.

“Do you consider this a date?”

Seungcheol refocuses on you, blinking rapidly at your question. “I’m sorry, what?” Giggling, you repeat your question, finishing off your ice cream before setting your own cup down next to you on the bench.

“Oh, well, I mean--I--I’d like it? But if you don’t consider it a date, then we don’t have to!”

You lean in close to Seungcheol, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re really interesting, ‘Cheol.” Pausing, you peer up at him through your lashes, watching as his face slowly forms a confused expression.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re… I dunno, guess I just expected a strict dom daddy in person and you’re… y’know, kinda shy and it’s cute.”

Seungcheol scoffs, inhaling what’s left of his ice cream before he sets his own cup down as well. “You think that for now, but you’ll see how easily I can slip right into character.” His eyes meet yours; fire burning beneath the surface. You can only bite your lip in response, finding your body already tingling with eagerness.

“I like that about you though, it’s nice that you’re not always strict or in character. I tried dating someone once who was always just… strict, and they hated that I cammed and it was just too much, y’know? Being possessive ‘n stuff.” He hums in response, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you enjoy each other’s company.

“I take it you two broke up?”

You nod in response, sighing. “I kinda knew it’d happen though. He was too possessive and jealous. D’you think you’d be like that, Seungcheol?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, toggling with an answer. “Dunno, on one hand I probably wouldn’t care ‘cause if it’s a person’s livelihood then it’s not my business, y’know? But at the same time I guess I can see where he was coming from…” He pauses, placing his arm on the backrest of the bench before pulling you in closer to himself.

“It’s all about communication, baby.”

Seungcheol takes you around town, purposely avoiding the roller rink until he can take you on Sunday. He takes you out for a light dinner as well, pampering you properly before he starts driving back to your hotel.

“Honestly, kinda shocked you wanted to hang out here for the weekend. It’s pretty boring around here. Unless you’re trying to find some ghosts.” He jokes, stopping at a red light. You laugh in return, relaxing into the passenger’s seat of Seungcheol’s car.

“It’s nice to get out once in a while! And you think it’s boring here but I can say the same about where I live. Truth be told, I’ve been thinkin’ about moving lately.” He glances your way, admiring your side profile as you stare out of the window.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Mmm, it’s just… getting boring, I guess. It’s about an hour out from here which isn’t horrible, just, y’know, a small town. I could go for a change of pace.” You admire the twinkling lights as the sun goes down, sighing contentedly. “Probably doesn’t really help that I go out in wigs sometimes just so people don’t clock me from my cam shows either.” You joke back, loving the way Seungcheol’s laugh sounds when he joins in on your laughter.

“How about your friends though? Won’t they miss you?”

The smile slides from your face; a certain sadness washing over you as you stare out of the window. “Mmm… maybe? Some of them aren’t too keen on the idea of me camming anyway. They said it’s too dangerous. But maybe moving to a new place would give me a new start too.”

You scan the cardkey for your hotel room, pushing the door open enough for Seungcheol to step in as well.

“Welcome to my home for the next, like, 72 hours.” You flop onto the bed, moaning in comfort when you sink into the cool sheets. “God, is it just me or are hotel sheets the fuckin’ best?” Your words are muffled against the pristine sheets, Seungcheol settling into the chair at the side of the bed as he watches you get comfortable.

A genuinely smile crosses his features as he watches you doze off. “I can order you some if you’d like.” You raise your head from the sheets, pouting at Seungcheol who only smiles in return.

“You don’t have to…” You mumble, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

“I’ll have them sent to your mailing address.” He chuckles, making a note in his phone to look into it later.

The two of you cool down for a bit before you start setting up; you dozing off on the bed as Seungcheol watches, nervousness suddenly washing over him again. “Hey, I know this kinda got mentioned before but… What do you usually do to prepare for your cam shows?”

“It depends! Sometimes I’m just ready to go without needing any help, but sometimes I’m not, like, super in the mood so I’ll watch porn to kinda… help.” You giggle, rolling over and reaching for your laptop. “Recently though, it’s been kinda easier.” Seungcheol smirks, crossing his legs as he leans back into the plush chair.

“Yeah? Why’s that.”

“You’re really gonna make me say it…” You trail off as a thrum of arousal shoots down your body.

“Why not? Think of it as me helping you prep for you show. Let me get you in the mood.”

Seungcheol’s deep voice gets even deeper when he slips into character; a certain twinkle in his eyes letting you know that he was completely serious.

“Tell daddy exactly what you think of before that red light starts blinking, baby.”

The electricity in your body is undeniable when you start to set up your laptop, already changed into your lingerie set for your show; a baby pink coloured matching set with small embroidered cherries all over the mesh. Seungcheol had initially sent it to you as a bit of a play on your camming username, but you had loved the set and wore it as often as you could.

Seungcheol helps adjust the lighting, moving the lamps around until you’re bathed in a soft warm glow. “Is this lighting okay? Did you want me to move it again?” He asks, dragging the chair he was sitting in until it sits just behind the laptop you’d set up on the sheets.

“Mm, I think it’s okay! Do I look pretty?” You tease, fingertips playing with the lace hem of your panties.

“Of course you do, baby. Always.” He replies as he sits down, getting comfortable in his seat again.

“Now, are you gonna show daddy just how wet that cute ‘lil pussy gets for me?” Seungcheol smirks, watching as the lust already pools in your eyes when you meet his piercing stare. “I bet your panties are already so wet thinkin’ about my fat cock in your tight cunt, huh? That’s why it’s been so easy for you to get off recently, right?”

You check the clock, only 15 minutes until you started your cam show. “I--y--yes, daddy…” You run your fingertips down your torso, watching as Seungcheol palms himself over his denim pants. “I think about daddy sooo much recently… My mouth starts drooling just thinking about daddy cumming down my throat… and filling me up with so much cum…” You moan out; pussy clenching around emptiness.

“What else, princess? Let daddy hear what you want.” Seungcheol quietly undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, fingertips at the waistband of his boxer briefs before he slowly slides them under.

“I--I think about you, um, p-punishing me for being a bad girl… your hands tangled in my hair when you make me choke on your cock… or your hands wrapped around my throat when you’re fucking me from behind, nice ‘n hard ‘til I’m crying… but I also think about daddy being n-nice to me and pampering me… eating out my wet pussy while I cum all over daddy’s face…” You whimper, touching yourself over your panties. A choked whine spills from your lips when you press into the growing wet spot on the material, hazy eyes checking the clock.

“O-oh fuck, I---I need to start the show…” You whisper. Seungcheol nods, hand slowly stroking his hardening cock. “Is it okay for me to… uh, get off or--”

“Yeah! I--yeah…” You giggle quietly, the blush growing on your face as you avert your eyes from watching Seungcheol stroking his thick cock in front of you.

You do a countdown, hitting the record button before you lean away from your laptop.

Almost immediately, the comments flood in, as well as the donations; the sound of them pouring out of the speakers as you giggle.

“Hi guys~”

universe_WZ: just wanna say thank u for the pics, i literally get off to them every night

hoshi_tiger_xx: i was so close….

gentleman_josh95: MF U SAID 10

alphagyu97: lmfao hi baby

tangerine_kwan has donated $50

sleepy_wonu has donated $75

angelhan: every night? Ur dick is gonna fall off

Seungcheol watches as you laugh, wondering what the others were saying now that he wasn’t on the other side as usual. In all honesty, he thought it was a little weird watching you cam in real life. It was also a little weird to not be interacting with the others for once; a slight smirk on his face when he knows he has the better place.

“You’re welcome ‘universe_WZ’! I’m glad you like ‘em! Oh--Wow! We’re already close to the donation minimum for me to start already and thank god! ‘Cause you guys… my panties are already soaked~” You whimper, spreading your legs in front of the camera and in front of Seungcheol.

xcaliburDK: whoa wait is it just me or is dom.cheol missing?

artist8hao: and ur backdrop looks diff???

therealchan99 has donated $100

therealchan99: iTS MY TURN TO SHINE

chwenon: where r u? 

“Oh! I’m--on a small ‘lil vacation kinda thing! Just wanted a bit of a scenery change, y’know?” You tuck a stand of hair behind your ear, trailing the same hand down your body as you bite your lip.

“Wish daddy were here though… I really wanna feel daddy’s tongue all over my pussy… ‘n I wanna feel his fingers fucking me and getting me ready to take his fat cock…” Your eyes momentarily flit past your laptop camera and stare directly into Seungcheol’s eyes, twinkling with excitement when you meet his already fucked out expression.

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing; his grip tightening when you pressed the soaked material against your skin. “God I can’t stop thinkin’ about it… I bet daddy likes watching me get off thinkin’ about him though, huh?” You laugh airily, sliding your wet panties down your legs before twirling them around a finger.

You toss the material past the camera and straight into Seungcheol’s lap; his jaw clenching as he loosens his grip to pick up the soaked panties.

kitty_junjun: too bad ur dom daddy isnt around but hey you have the 12 of us princess

sleepy_wonu: yea, why dont u take one of us for a spin heh

artist8hao has donated $75

“Oh~ 12 daddies? I’m so spoiled!” You pause to take off your bra, tossing it to the side instead. “Just thinkin’ about it makes me wanna cum~”

alphagyu97: oh man, bukkake party PLEASE

tangerine_kwan: hhrkdfhskj fuck

artist8hao: wait thatd be hot

Seungcheol gulps, wrapping your soaked panties around his hand before he wraps his hand around his cock again; head thrown back as he slowly starts thrusting up into his closed fist.

“Hmm~ Maybe daddy likes a dirty girl, huh? Seeing me covered in so much cum~” You run your fingers through your wet folds, pinching your clit between your fingertips. “Ngh, fuck, bet daddy would love seeing his, a-ah, cum pouring out of my cute ‘lil pussy…” You mumble; legs spreading wider to give your viewers a better view.

You coat your fingers in your wetness, already sinking two fingers into your soaking pussy once they’re completely covered. “Oh, g-god, daddy!”

angelhan: u werent kidding when u said u were already soaked, holy shit

xcaliburDK: i can hear how wet u r from here

universe_WZ has donated $50

chwenon has donated $69

chwenon: heh, bet u want daddys tongue on that clit of urs right about now huh

“God, you don’t even know… Daddy could make me cum just from licking my clit ‘cause ‘m so sensitive…” You scissor your fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you slowly start to add a third finger. “But I also want his fingers and his cock nice and deep…”

j__min: ;) id give it to u nice and deep

j__min has donated $200

You gulp slightly, almost glad Seungcheol was with you instead of in the chat. He would never admit to it even on the phone, but you knew the new addition to your regulars seemed to bother him, even at least a little bit. Not that you could blame him; it bothered you a little too. You’d gone so long without any new regulars that even you were slightly confused when you had checked the profile and found out that whoever ‘j__min’ was, was quite the popular cammer as well.

Seungcheol bites his lip to keep his noises in, jaw clenched as he watches you fuck yourself with three fingers deep in your cunt. He almost wanted to just knock the laptop over and get you off himself but he holds steady; reminding himself that fucking on the first date was out of the question.

“A-ah, ‘m really close~” Whining, you trail your free hand up your torso as you start to play with your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples. Seungcheol starts meeting your pace, running his hand up and down his shaft as he coats your panties in his precum.

“Daddy, please, please let me cum!” You mewl.

Your eyes dance over to Seungcheol who nods firmly and you can’t help but lick your lips as you watch him get off with your panties.

Your legs threaten to snap shut when you thumb at your clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

“O--ooh--fuh-fuck! I’m go--gonna c-cum!” You grit out; body tensing up as your orgasm washes over you and Seungcheol fares no better as he cums too, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he cums all over your panties.

The sound of rapid donations flood the speakers but in the moment, only you and Seungcheol exist as you both ride out your orgasms together. Your toes curl against the sheets as your legs shake, shaky breaths and moans on your lips as you mentally remind yourself to not call out Seungcheol’s name despite how badly you really want to. Seungcheol’s entire body buzzes with electricity as he cums hard; his head fuzzy when his foggy eyes watch you ride out your high.

He slows down his own pace; letting the remnants of his orgasm ebb off, but for you, it’s nowhere near over as you slowly ease your fingers from inside of you, wincing at the sudden emptiness.

“Fuck, I, hah, I really… really wanna cum again a-already…” You mumble. “Do you think daddy will spoil me and give me permission to cum again?”

therealchan99: whatever the princess needs

hoshi_tiger_xx: whatever the princess wants more like

universe_WZ has donated $100

angelhan has donated $75

j__min has donated $100

Seungcheol nods again, this time shaky as he catches his breath. He watches as you reach behind yourself, grabbing one of the plush pillows before you set it in front of you.

You momentarily catch your breath before you swing a leg over it, immediately bunching up the material as you start grinding down on it.

“Ngh, god, wish---wish it was daddy’s thigh instead… buh--but this time… I want daddy to punish me~” You mewl, head thrown back at the pleasure that washes over you in an instant. “I’ve been a bad girl today… I have to make it up to daddy before I get his cock~”

sleepy_wonu: and how would u do that, huh?

gentleman_josh95: think u deserve it?

xcaliburDK: baby doesnt deserve to cum if she’s been bad~

“Noooo~ you have to let me c-cum! I can cum on daddy’s thigh… I’ll cockwarm too~ Just let me cum!” You cry, already feeling your second orgasm closing in fast. “The cold pillow feels nice against my hot body… ‘n I’m so wet still… I’m soaking through the pillow.” You giggle, grinding down hard.

j__min: i can buy u some nice expensive bed sheets for your setup if u want

j__min: just say the word ;)

“Hehe, that’s so kind of you but I already have some at home~” You wink at Seungcheol who looks at you with a confused stare.

You go quiet for a few minutes, getting lost in the pleasure as you grind against the taut pillow. Your moans bounce off the hotel walls; breathy and drawn out.

artist8hao: god ur so pretty i want to paint u so bad

alphagyu97: *IN CUM

gentleman_josh95: we need a pov show once i swear,,, wanna imagine its me

tangerine_kwan: god yes yes please just make it paid content if u dont wanna do it live 

“Hmm~ a POV show? You wanna see my cute pussy filled up with real cock that bad?” You start grinding down harder, feeling the tension in your body already ready to snap when the fabric rubs against your sensitive clit. “I’ve b-been thinking about it more ‘n more and---and I want it too~ Mmh, just thinking about it m-makes me--wanna--wanna c-cum!” You whisper harshly; thighs shaking as you cum hard.

The donations pour in as your orgasm crests; eyes clamped shut as the ringing in your head takes over.

Seugncheol licks his lips, watching with  adoration when you start whimpering; already knowing how tired you’d be once the cameras were off. 

You give it a second as you start coming down from your high, body twitching as you catch your breath. “F-fuck, I--I’m so tired~” You whine cutely, leaning forward as you take a moment to read comments again. 

therealchan99: ur so fuckin pretty when u cum 

kitty_junjun has donated $50

kitty_junjun: such a cute messy girl, bet those sheets r soaking wet 

“Ugh, they really are~ I’m so sorry but I couldn’t help it~” You pout. Seungcheol grins from his seat; a weird sense of pride swelling in his body. You read a few more comments and thank your viewers for their donations; eyes catching one last comment before you say your goodbyes. 

j__min: aww too bad ur dom daddy wasn't around huh? should I replace him? lolol 😏

“Okay guys~ I gotta go and get cleaned up! Maybe I can get rid of the evidence before housekeeping finds it!” You joke, blowing the camera a kiss and a wink before saying goodbye and turning off the stream. 

“You’re incredible.” Seungcheol exhales, tossing the soaked panties back onto the bed just as you slump to the side. 

“Mmm... thanks...” 

Seungcheol pouts watching your sleepy eyes threaten to close, getting up from his chair as he gets himself cleaned off quickly before he tends to you. “What do you usually do after your show ends?” He asks, voice echoing from the attached bathroom. 

“Usually lay here for a bit until I go get cleaned off and then change my bedsheets and then eat a ‘lil before going to bed if I’m hungry.” You chuckle, maneuvering until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Depending on how tired I am though, I’ll sometimes just sleep in my mess and clean up in the morning.” 

“Can you sit up for me?” You nod, seeing Seungcheol coming into view with a bottle of water. 

You can only blush as he smoothes down you mussed hair, urging you to finish the bottle of water before he takes the soiled pillow off of the bed. “Well, the bed seems relatively clean so I don’t think we need to do much evidence hiding other than dealing with this pillow.” He jokes, already tugging the wet fabric off. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want me to call in some room service or something? I can go out and get something too. Or have it delivered? I started running the bath while I was getting cleaned up in there so it should be ready soon.” 

Your heart blooms at Seungcheol’s kindness; warmth filling your body when he helps you up from the bed and to the bathroom. He checks the water’s temperature before he helps you into the tub, immediately sitting on the edge as he watches you relax into the warm water. 

“God, you must be exhausted. I can’t imagine what it’s like to just... be alone after all that and have to do the cleanup. I’d probably just pass out in my own filth.” Seungcheol shakes his head in a joking manner; a doting smile on his face when you seem to enjoy his pampering. 

“Mmhmm... but this is nice... I could get used to this.” 

[krappykawa]

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.3)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more. 

oikawa tooru x f!reader, fluff, angst, childhood best friends to lovers

word count. 4.5k

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

note. this was only supposed to be a three part story but it keeps getting away from me 🧍🏻‍♀️ anyways i hope you guys like this chapter 😼

Oikawa tries to deny the way his heart skips a beat every time you’re around, he really does. He tries to ignore that his eyes constantly move to wherever you are in a room (though he feels as if maybe he’s always done that, but he tries not to dwell on it). He tries to ignore the incessant pull towards you and how he always finds himself reaching for your hand when he shouldn’t. But he’s not daft. He knows that something’s changed, and he knows that it’s something big. 

But he’s not quite ready to admit it - not yet. There’s one more thing he has to make sure of. 

That’s how he gets here - staring at the small letter that he holds between his fingertips and for the first time in months, debates whether or not he should accept this confession. He hasn’t accepted a confession since his ex-girlfriend, Yua had broken up with him and he hadn’t thought he would be accepting another any time in the next year. 

Yet here he is, staring at the girl in front of him and wondering if it’s worth it. He just wants to know for sure. He wants to know that what he feels for you isn’t stimulated by something false that his mind had tricked him into, because if there was anything that scared him more than his own failure, it was the thought of losing you as a best friend.

He knows that he shouldn’t do this to the girl that’s looking up at him hopefully with brown eyes full of adoration. She’s pretty, with bob-length hair and well-cut bangs to go along with a petite build and soft curves. But she’s not you, his mind immediately nags like a second instinct. He chooses to ignore it. 

He knows that it’s cruel of him to accept this confession without actually having feelings for her. He knows that by doing this he might just be living up to the stupid playboy expectation that everyone seems to place on him. 

But he needs to know. Or, if not that, he needs to forget your lips and the way you look up at him with what might be love in your eyes. He needs to, but he’s not even sure that he wants to. 

“Thank you Hishoko-san. I’m honored that you would take an interest in me. I accept your confession,” he says despite it all. The girl lights up with a megawatt smile. 

And even as he says those words, he knows that he’s making a mistake. 

You feel the old feelings of heartbreak resurfacing when Oikawa bounds up to you and Iwaizumi and announces that he’s gotten a girlfriend. The familiar ache in your chest comes back, but this time with greater force. It’s the feeling of disappointment when you’ve just barely gotten a taste of something delicious before it’s rudely knocked from your hands and lost to you. How could you forget the way his lips molded against yours and the way his eyes seemed to light up just a little brighter? You decide that it’s a cruel, cruel thing for the universe to hand you hope just to snatch it right out of your hands. 

You hadn’t wanted to let hope kindle within you for this very reason. But you were always a little more lenient with your rules when it came to the boy who’d stolen your heart and ran away with it. You let yourself hope that maybe he might just give it back.

But here it is, the striking blow of truth that those fantasies exist only in your imagination. 

“Do we know her?” The bitterness that’s so very present in your tone rings over and over in your head, playing as a constant reminder to everything you’re trying to avoid feeling. You hope that Oikawa doesn’t notice the way that your stomach is churning uncomfortably when you turn and attempt to smile softly at him. 

His gaze is on Iwaizumi when he answers, so you’re safe from any interrogation for a little while. “Iwa-chan does. She was the girl that you were partners with for that lab last year.”

“Oh. Her. She’s nice,” Iwaizumi says, his voice losing the soft touch that would usually hide beneath his harsh and unkind tone towards Oikawa. It’s not hard to tell from the quiet rage in his eyes that he’s angry. 

Oikawa cocks his head, his gaze flicking from you and up to Iwaizumi. “What’s wrong Iwa-chan? You don’t seem all that enthusiastic.”

You can practically feel Iwaizumi’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head, but you refuse to meet his gaze. If you happen to look over at him, you know that your facade would break, and you aren’t quite ready to come up with an explanation on why you’re so upset with this news. Oikawa would be able to see through that in an instant. 

Finally, after a long few seconds of pointedly avoiding his eyes, Iwaizumi looks away from you and answers Oikawa shortly. “She’s nice. I don’t know much about her though.”

You know that Oikawa must’ve noticed the brief exchange between you and Iwaizumi, but from some stroke of luck, he doesn’t question it. 

He clears his throat before turning his gaze down towards you. “What about you Y/N-chan?” There’s an odd tone in his voice that makes you look up at him. He’s staring at you with searching eyes that flick between your eyes and your lips, which makes you furrow your eyebrows ever so slightly. You’re not too sure what he’s searching for. His eyes don’t leave your face as he softly asks, “Are you two acquainted?” You think that the look in his eyes is far too serious for a situation that should be light and joyous on his end. 

It takes everything in you to tear your gaze away from his. You’re afraid that if he keeps looking at you like that, you might just start to cry. “No, I don’t think we are,” you try to say without your voice cracking. 

Oikawa doesn’t seem particularly satisfied with your answer, but it seems that he can tell that neither you or Iwaizumi really want to talk about this any further. You three walk in what might be the most awkward silence in your eleven years of friendship, the air thick with tension and unsaid words. Iwaizumi squeezes your shoulder and you feel Oikawa tense from beside you when he notices the small gesture. You can’t find it in you to care about what it might look like to him at the moment. 

“I’m really going to try this time. To make sure that I don’t neglect her,” Oikawa says again after a slightly uncomfortable silence. His gaze is aimed straight-ahead, but he looks as if he’s talking more to himself than he is to you and Iwaizumi. You want nothing more than to go home and pretend that this conversation hadn’t happened. 

Oikawa doesn’t fall in love easily. You’ve seen him go through countless relationships that barely last more than a few days because he simply can’t commit to them when volleyball has been his love for nearly his whole life. You know he doesn’t mean to hurt them and that he can’t help that his interest dwindles away. The one and only time you’d ever seen him actually fall in love was with Yua, and even then even his attempts at making them work had failed. 

So hearing him say that he was going to try again - to try and make sure that he doesn’t make the mistakes he’s made countless times wrenches at the screws in your heart. You had let yourself hope. You’d let yourself go to sleep thinking of the way he looked at you after you showed him that alien plush. You let yourself smile wider at him everytime he smiled at you with this new look in his eyes that you couldn’t help but be hopeful for. You let yourself love him freely for the first time without that nagging feeling in your mind that always told you that you were nothing more than his best friend.  And now you’re finding out that perhaps you’d imagined it all, and that instead, he was falling in love with another girl that you hadn’t known about. 

“That’s amazing, Tooru. I can’t wait to meet her,” you finally say. Iwaizumi hasn’t said a word, and you know that the moment that you get a moment alone with him, he’ll be bombarding you with questions about this recent development in Oikawa’s love life. You never quite told him of your feelings for his best friend, but Iwaizumi is almost, if not more observant than Oikawa. You’re sure that he figured it out one way or another. 

That’s why you’re glad when a girl that you had been assigned an assignment with calls out to you across the hall. You don’t even say a goodbye to either of the boys walking beside you before rushing to her side.

“You must be Y/N-san! Oikawa-kun tells me a lot about you!” Hishoko greets you with a smile. You two stand at nearly the same height, so you decide to pull her into a hug. Despite the way your heart aches at the sight of her standing next to Oikawa, you know that she’s done nothing wrong. She just happens to be in love with the same guy as you. You can’t fault her for that, not when you couldn’t even help yourself from falling for him.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” you say as you pull out of the hug. You look up at Oikawa to find him already watching you with a troubled look in his eyes. You decide not to think anything of it. 

If there’s one thing that has never failed to cheer you up, it’s your visits to Takeru’s volleyball club. Though you have never been particularly gifted at volleyball, you’ve managed to pick up on the basics with help from Oikawa and Iwaizumi over the years. 

“Y/N!” You smile brightly when you see Takeru standing next to Oikawa as you enter the gym. He runs up to you and you crouch down so that he can wrap his smaller arms around your neck. Oikawa trails after his nephew with a relaxed smile on his lips. 

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him. He’s wearing a mint blue shirt and joggers in the Aoba Johsai volleyball team colors, a combination that was always one of your favorites on him (not that you’d ever let him know that). His hair is tousled and he’s slightly flushed from warming up with the kids that came early, though it only adds his blessed good looks. With an ache in your heart, you think that he might just be the most beautiful person on the Earth. 

After sending a small smile and nod in Oikawa’s direction, you pull slightly out of Takeru’s hold while still keeping your hands on his shoulders. He’s wearing a bright grin when he says the last thing you were expecting him to say. “Just promise not to kiss him in front of me okay? I don’t want to get either of your cooties.”

You blink at Takeru. “What?” You lock eyes with Oikawa, who seems to have an equally shocked look on his face. For a moment you feel as if everything else in the world has drowned out except for the mild hitch in Oikawa’s breathing when he hears what Takeru says.

“Takeru, what are you going on about?” There’s a mild discomfort in his voice.

“You said you got a new girlfriend and that she’s coming to the club today. Y/N always goes to the club so it has to be her! Right?”

For a second you feel as if you might just run out of the gym doors and never come back. You genuinely consider it, already thinking about what ice cream flavor you’ll be gouging on when you get home. But then you remember that doing that would probably lead to a lot of questions on Oikawa’s part, so you decide against it. 

Before you can formulate a response, Oikawa does it for you. “No, no. Not Y/N, Takeru.” He says it with a nervous laugh to his voice, but his eyes keep darting towards you. Your attempt at laughing with him sounds far too high-pitched. You’re very well aware of the fact that Oikawa knows that too. 

At a pace that would have surprised others, Oikawa seems to shed all nervousness and instead lets a joking lilt enter his voice as he puts a hand on Takeru’s shoulder and says, “Besides, neither of us have cooties, where ever did you get that idea?” 

You think back to his lips and how they most definitely did not have cooties. And even if he did, you would happily contract all the cooties in the world if it meant that you could kiss Oikawa’s lips whenever you wanted. You feel your face heat up at the thought of it. 

“One, you do have cooties ‘Kawa. And two, Takeru, you’ll love Hishoko-san. She’s very nice,” you say without looking at Oikawa. You don’t give either of them time to respond to anything you said before you stand up and pat your thighs. “I’m gonna go say hi to the other kids, if that’s okay with you, munchkin?”

As you turn to leave, Oikawa calls out from behind you. “Don’t go around defacing my name when you get there, Y/N-chan!”

“No promises, Cootiekawa!” You smile to yourself for coming up with that nickname on the fly, as childish as it is. 

“Don’t call me that!”

The little kids are bound with excitement when you walk up to them, all smiles and excited hellos. It’s funny really, how much admiration these kids have for both you and Oikawa. It warms your heart. 

By the time Hishoko walks in, you’re getting the cart of volleyballs ready after sending the kids off to get a drink of water. She looks entirely too beautiful in a flowy dress that highlights her features and you’re torn between feeling jealous that she and Oikawa make a gorgeous couple and feeling understanding that she was the one that Oikawa had fallen in love with. You send her the most convincing smile you can muster when she notices you and waves. 

When you have to turn away as Oikawa presses a kiss to Hishoko’s cheek, you’re met with a sight behind you that isn’t any more comforting. 

“Hey Y/N!” 

Kaoru is walking up to you, his hand clasped around a bashful-looking young boy. He still looks at you with the smile he used to wear when you were together, and you wish that he wouldn’t. Not when the reason you broke up with him for is standing just a few meters away from the both of you (not that either of them knew that). 

Despite that, you still manage a smile. “Kaoru, hey! What are you doing here?”

“Well, my cousin here started getting into volleyball, and I thought about this club. You used to go on and on about how much fun you had teaching the kids here and I thought that he might enjoy it.”

You have your hands wrapped around the volleyball that’s pressed against your midsection, feeling your stomach drop at his words. On paper, Kaoru might be considered your perfect match, but by some cruel dealing, your heart seems hell-bent on falling instead for the one guy that might never even look at you with more than platonic love in his eyes. You wish that you could’ve found it in you to fall in love with Kaoru instead.

“That’s thoughtful of you.” He seems to stand a little straighter as you say it. You try not to notice. “I’m more of a helper though. ‘Kawa’s the one that does the teaching most days. He’s over th-” You turn to point towards where Oikawa was standing and feel the words die on your lips. 

Oikawa’s already walking towards you with Takeru and Hishoko trailing behind him. He’s wearing what might be a friendly smile to anyone else, but you’ve seen it enough times to know that it’s a little too forced to be friendly. It’s the same smile he wears when he gets insanely competitive right before a volleyball game and is looking to intimidate his opponents. It’s the smile he uses when greeting Kageyama and Ushijima. It looks even more passive aggressive since he’s holding a volleyball against his hips. 

“Y/N-chan, who’s this?” You’re relieved that he’s using the amiable voice he uses to be friendly with strangers, but he still looks as if he hopes that Kaoru might just disappear if he just stares at him hard enough. 

“This is Kaoru’s cousin.” You look down at the boy. “I’m sorry, I never did catch your name.”

“I’m Kousuke, it’s nice to meet you. Kaoru says you’re really nice.”

“Oh I’m sure he does,” you hear Oikawa mutter under his breath. It’s so quiet that you might have imagined it because in the next second, his usually preppy demeanor is once again put up. “Hello there, I’m Oikawa,” he says kindly to Kaoru’s cousin. When he looks up at Kaoru though, his smile turns to sweetened acid. “Glad you brought him here. Who better to teach this young boy here but me? Isn’t that right Takeru? Your friends seem to be fond of me and my exceptional volleyball skills.”

Takeru looks up at Oikawa with a confused look. “No they don’t.”

“Takeru,” Oikawa says while fixing a stare at his nephew. Takeru seems to lose his attitude. 

“Uh, yeah I guess they do?”

“See! The kids love me! I’m practically their idol! They love my serve actually, always begging me to teach them. It’s a pretty hard serve though, so they really haven’t gotten the hang of it. You’ve seen my serve though, haven’t you Kaoru-kun?”

“It’s okay. I do remember that you hit it into the net the last time I came to watch with Y/N,” Kaoru shrugs. 

Oikawa practically growls. “I’d like to see you receive one of my serves.”

“I’d be more than happy to try.” Kaoru smiles, but you can’t tell if it’s genuine or just as passive aggressive as Oikawa’s. 

Oikawa lets out a low chuckle, and you force yourself to not look physically affected by it. You remind yourself that his girlfriend is standing right behind him. “I’m sure you would. Though most people struggle to do so, I wouldn’t want to injure you,” he says while moving the volleyball back and forth in his hands. 

Kousuke and Takeru look up at them with confused looks on their faces. Hishoko looks mildly bashful at what might be her first look at the Oikawa that’s not all sunshines and daisies. You’re merely wondering what’s caused all this tension. As far as you were aware, Oikawa and Kaoru weren’t on extremely bad terms. 

Kaoru flicks a look between you and Oikawa. “You’re pretty cocky aren’t you?”

“Not cocky. Just confident. I’m one of the best setters in the prefecture. Isn’t that right Y/N?” Oikawa turns to look at you and the passive aggressive look in his eyes turns to something more genuine. 

You shake your head, letting out a small laugh. “Yeah yeah, sure. Whatever. Stop showing off, ‘Kawa.”

“I’m not showing off!” There’s just barely a hint of humility in his voice. 

You raise a brow at him. He seems to wilt under your gaze. 

“I’m not,” he mumbles. 

You tilt your head in the direction of the kids getting ready on the court. “Come on. You have kids to teach. Stop picking fights.” You’re also more than ready to get away from Kaoru’s gaze. 

Oikawa doesn’t seem to be quite ready to teach though. “Why would I be picking fights?” His gaze is leveled on you.

You fake confusion as you stare right back at him. You want to remind him that there are others around you. “I don’t know, Tooru. Why would you?”

The air seems to still with tension. 

Thankfully, Takeru comes to your rescue. “Hey, Y/N? Do you think we should start now?” 

“Yeah, of course, Takeru.” You turn to Oikawa. “Receives. You take the older ones. Kousuke can be in your group.”

To both yours and Oikawa’s displeasure, Kaoru sticks around for the entirety of the club. He sits on the side with Hishoko and makes teasing comments to both you and Kousuke, almost like no time has passed since your break-up. 

It’s not that you harbor any harsh feelings for him. It’s just that you’re a little on edge with Oikawa and Hishoko here already, and now for some reason, it seems as if Oikawa and Kaoru are looking to off each other. 

“Good job today, Y/N-chan,” Oikawa says as he helps you put the volleyballs back in the cart. Despite the rough beginning, the day still went relatively well, especially when Oikawa landed a particularly nasty serve that got all the kids hyped and excited for the next time you’d be meeting. 

“Mhm. You too.”

Oikawa sighs. “You’re mad.” It’s not a question. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

He places the last volleyball back into the cart and closes it before turning to look at you. “Look, I’m sorry for that.”

“You should be,” you reply. “What got stuck up your ass that made you act like that anyway?”

“Nothing.”

You raise a brow at him.

“I’m just stressed. Team chemistry is on edge with Kyoutani back on the team ... amongst other things.”

It’s a half-truth. You can tell by the way his eyes divert from yours when he airily says “other things”. 

You lean against the cart to turn your body in his direction. “What are other things?”

“Other things,” he replies without looking at you. He’s leaning against the cart with his back to the metal rather than to his side, so all you’re met with is his side-profile. 

“So you’re not gonna tell me?” You’re a little miffed. 

He turns to look at you, his brown eyes boring into you. “I’m not the only one with secrets Y/N-chan.”

You feel your stomach drop, your head immediately thinking of everything he might’ve found out. Maybe he’s aware of the way you’re in love with him. Maybe he’s known this whole time and was just keeping you around in an act of pity. Your breathing seems to still at that possibility. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

This time, Oikawa moves so that he can turn to you fully, though his eyes don’t look any less intense. “The other day, with Iwa-chan. What was going on there?”

Your breathing returns. At least he doesn’t know. 

“Nothing.”

“Though so.” He looks mildly hurt. 

Before the conversation can stray into tense territory, Hishoko walks up to you two. You’re surprised to see that Kaoru and his cousin are following behind her. “Hey Oikawa, I was wondering if we could check out the sweet shop across the street?”

You want to tell her that Oikawa hates that shop. He took one step into it and complained about how their candy assortment was horrendous. You want to tell her that Oikawa would much rather go to the frozen yogurt shop that’s a few blocks away, but you don’t. It was sort of a tradition for you, Oikawa, and Takeru to head over there after the kid’s volleyball club had ended. It might be selfish to do so, but the thought of her completely replacing you in that sense makes your heart ache. 

“Huh?” Oikawa turns to look at her. “Oh. Right, sure.”

You place your hands on the cart, making to move it back into the storage closet. You don’t want to be around for the rest of the conversation. 

Oikawa notices what you’re doing and interrupts. “Y/N-chan? You want to come with?”

Stupid. You wonder if he’s asking because he really has no idea what the norms of a relationship are, or if he truly sees you as nothing more than just a sister if he’s more than willing to ask you to go with him on what could be a pseudo date with his girlfriend. 

“No, it’s fine. You have fun.”

You’re about to wheel away without waiting for a response when Kaoru hesitantly speaks up. “Y/N, are you walking home alone then?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Though I could probably take a bus home if needed.”

Kaoru beams, his teeth flashing in a perfect smile. “Kousuke and I were planning on heading to this yogurt shop we saw before we got here. I can take you home after if you want to come with us.” His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his shoe. 

You can practically hear the way that Oikawa’s jaw clenches. You make a mental note to bring him a loaf of milk bread the next time you have a shift at the bakery in hopes of easing whatever stress he’s holding on to. 

Kaoru’s still looking at you expectantly. You weigh your options. You can either go with your ex-boyfriend and his cousin to get frozen yogurt and have him take you home after, or you can walk home alone. Despite what the implications of the first choice might have, it’s still an easy choice. 

“Yeah, sure. Let Tooru and I just clean up. I’ll meet you outside.”

Both Kaoru and Kousuke nod before heading out. Hishoko and Takeru follow them shortly after.

“You didn’t tell Hishoko that you despise that shop,” you say. The two of you had just finished hauling the volleyball net back into the equipment closet. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Hm,” you hum. “You … you like her a lot then?”

Oikawa pauses in his place, and you realize that you’re both standing much too close for comfort. His eyes wander your face again, like he’s searching for something. “Maybe. It’s too early to tell.”

You hate the way that your stomach churns because it really is unfair that he can look at you like that and not feel the same way you do. You take a step back and move to pick up your bag on the side of the bleachers. Oikawa follows close behind. 

When you both get to the gym doors, Kaoru and his cousin are standing by a tree to the right, and Hishoko and Takeru are standing by the pillar to the left. 

Oikawa turns to you once more, his voice sounding mildly fatigued. “Have fun with Kaoru.”

You attempt a smile. “Have fun with Hishoko.”

And with that, you both split off, heading in the direction of the two people waiting for you two. Neither of you voice out loud that you would much rather be with the other. 

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Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.5

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, blood, DADZAWA, tiniest bit of angst, Kinda Short Again : P

Summary: Bakugou and Y/N have made up and have gotten much closer. Y/N still isn’t completely sure what they are yet, but that thought will have to be put on the back burner since Shigaraki has a job for her. But what happens on that job is what makes this part interesting. 

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

All day, you and Bakugou were together. Talking, laughing, just doing whatever. Almost like a couple. Quick kisses here and there and long hugs quite often. It even got to the point where they were constantly cuddling. Mind you, this all happened in just a day. Speaking of which, at the end of it, Bakugou went back to Y/N’s room and they fell asleep together.

*Beep* *beep* *beep* *click!*

You woke up to the glorious sun, shining it’s golden rays through your dorm window. It’s 6:00. Time to get ready for school. As you looked around in a strangely peaceful atmosphere, you found the reason why. Right next to you, layed a sleeping Katsuki.

You smiled at his peaceful state and took a moment to admire all of him. Bakugou chose to not sleep with a shirt due to his quirk, which gave you the benefit of laying eyes on someone who was truly built by the gods. His chiseled chest glowed under the solar rays and his abs were covered in scars from his past adventures as a UA student. Your eyes traveled to his face, where porcelain skin lay. His ruby eyes shut, as his long lashes curtain them. Your hands automatically went to his head, running your fingers through his surprisingly soft spiky hair. You giggled as you noticed it refused to lay calm, much like Bakugou himself. To your surprise, his deep morning voice spoke up.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” He smiled in his drowsy state. You jumped at his voice as he chuckled at your jittery behavior. Your hand had left his hair, much to Bakugou’s dismay, and so he brought it back to where it previously was. “I never said stop, princess.” He said as he attempted to drift off back to sleep.

“Heh, well I didn’t ask if you did. You gonna keep sleeping or you gonna get up and get ready for school?” You teasingly asked.

“You gonna keep petting my head?” Bakugou asked with his eyes still closed and a slight smile.

“No.”

“Then no,” he said as he woke up with a scowl and grumpy eyes. He sat up from his previous position and stretched his arms as he watched you get up and walk to your dresser. You grabbed your rebellious uniform before walking back to Katsuki.

“See you soon, okay?” You said and pecked his pouted lips. He replied with closed eyes, a smile, and a simple “mhm” as he got up and left to his dorm.

As Bakugou walked to his dorm, he tried to savor the feeling of your plush lips on his. He smiled at the recent memory. He walked back into his dorm and got ready, excited because he knew once he was done, he would get to see you again. As Bakugou finished and left, he walked to your dorm and found you and Rumor shutting the door, ready to go. He walked to your side and held onto your waist.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhm!”

You both walked and talked until you reached class, as you opened the door and walked in, everyone saw you and cooed.

“Ouuu~ whats this Bakugou?” Sero asked in a playful manner. Bakugou just rolled his eyes but continued to hold onto you.

“Is she your girllllfriendddd?” Kaminari teased. The whole class giggled at the cute little POSSIBLE couple. It was adorable. Who would’ve guessed the ruthless and “dedicated to being number 1 only” Bakugou would have fallen for someone. They continued to laugh until Bakugou spoke.

“Maybe she is, morons. Is there a problem if she is?” He asked with piercing eyes, causing the group to shut up. “Good.” He said as he sat down in his seat and placing you in his lap. You guys had a couple minutes before class started so it would work out just fine.

As the group continued to talk, a deep voice was heard throughout the room.

“Are you going to continue holding my daughter hostage in your lap, Bakugou? Or are you gonna let her take her seat?” The group looked towards the door and saw their teacher, Mr. Aizawa, standing in the doorway. Everyone, besides Bakugou, Y/N, Kaminari, and Kirishima, gasped at the revelation of Y/N being Aizawa’s daughter.

Bakugou sighed as he let you go to his seat, which was right next to him, and looked towards his teacher. “Happy?”

“Very.” Aizawa replied.

“You know, for the record, you aren’t my real dad.” Y/N clarified.

“Correct, but I adopted you. Which legally makes you my daughter. So listen to your dad and hush!” He said with glowing red eyes which made you quiet down with a huff. You placed your head in your hand as you blew a strand of hair out of your face.

‘He’s probably gonna mention the competition tomorrow,” you thought to yourself.

“Alright class, to begin let me tell you about a battle competition we’ll be having next week.” He said.

‘Next week?’ You were confused. What happened to tomorrow? This would throw off the league’s plans, which surprisingly, you were kind of okay with.

“It was supposed to be tomorrow, but we caught word of a few villains figuring out about the event so the school rescheduled it to a different time at a different location,” Mr. Aizawa began, “the competition will be a battle of schools. Class 1-A and B will be attending. Each class will be its own team. You guys will do something similar to a race but depending on the routes and turns you take, you will end up facing a challenge or fighting an opponent aka a different school’s class. The race is over when a class gets to the finish line and rings a bell. Winners get a week off from all work.” He explained.

The class cheered in excitement at the event coming up and spoke amongst themselves about how they would prepare. You, however, were in minor distraught.

‘Villains? The only villains that could’ve know were the league. Did one of them slip up?’ You thought.

Mr. Aizawa refocused the class and began the lesson. Blah, blah, blah, quirks, blah, blah, blah, law, blah, blah, blah, heroes. The usual. Except this time, you payed a little attention. Hero work did interest you but there was no way it was possible for you. You were already in too deep with villainy, so you just sat in self pity as you listened to the lecture.

At the end of the class, Aizawa pulled you aside to talk. He said he had a few things he wanted to ask you.

“Y/N..” he said.

“Eraser-Head..” you replied. He rolled his eyes at the name.

“It’s Mr. Aizawa, or Aizawa sensei, or even dad!” He complained but this time you rolled your eyes.

“Alright then, DAD, what do you want?” You asked.

“I just want to know what’s going on with you and Bakugou. You’ve gotten awfully close. Kissing in the kitchen, sitting on his lap. Are you dating that boy or what?” He questioned you, and to be honest, you couldn’t really answer. What exactly was your relationship with Bakugou? You weren’t dating, that wasn’t established, but you guys weren’t just friends. This was all so confusing. Still, you couldn’t give the man a straightforward answer.

“Even if I was, it’s none of your concern.” You said with a puffed chest and total confidence.

“It is my concern as your now father.” He said. “I just want to know. I’ve seen some improvements since you came here.....I’m proud of you.”

This shocked you. It threw you off and your body basically deflated from its once confident state. He was proud of you. Words you’ve longed to hear from somebody..anybody, and you finally got to hear it. It almost made you tear up but you had to stay composed.

“Proud of me? For what?” You asked with a little sass and attitude. Gotta keep up your bad girl rep, you know?

“Proud of you for choosing to come here in general. You made a good choice. You’ve benefitted yourself in all the right ways. You’re going down a path of greatness, I can see it. I’m also proud of the friends you’ve made and how open and social you’ve become. It makes me glad knowing that you’re coming out of that dark spot you were stuck in for so long. And it seems that having Bakugou around really helps.” He explained.

The whole thing almost brought you to tears. A father figure was proud of you. He knows your past and who you are and he was proud of you. It’s like a dream come true. You were so stunned, you could barely speak.

“Yeah...Umm..thanks.” You began. “Well! If that’s all..I have to get to lunch. I’ll see you around,” you said as you blinked away the tears gathering in your eyes and began to walk to the door.

“Y/N...if you’re ever struggling, you can come talk to me about anything. I’m your teacher and dad now, so I’m always here to help.” He offered. You looked back at him with a kind face before speaking.

“Thank you..”

‘...Dad,’ you thought to yourself as you let out a small smile and walked to the cafeteria.

——————————————————————————

The day went on as usual and when school and training was finally over, you and Bakugou got to spend more time together! You don’t know what it was but being around each other just made each other feel more..complete.

After school, you guys took a fly around the city on Rumor, stopped for some ice cream, and went to play with puppies at the local shelter. By the time you guys got back, dinner was being prepped in the kitchen, so you guys had some time to kill. You both decided it was cool to just hang out in your room.

“Hey, I’m gonna change real quick and I’ll meet you there, okay?” Bakugou said, pointing to the area of his dorm.

“No problem!” You said as Bakugou leaned down and pecked your lips before leaving. You smiled as he walked away and looked towards Rumor who had to be giving you some type of smirk. “Shut up,”

When you both walked in to the room, you changed out of your school uniform and opted for something more comfy. Before you sat down in bed, your earring went off. The league was calling.

“Y/N!...Can you hear me?!” Shigaraki said through the communication device. You ran to it in fear of displeasing your superior if you took too long.

“Right here. What happened?! What villain got caught speaking about the competition???” You asked in shock.

“It was Twice. Idiot can’t keep his mouth shut.” Shigaraki said as you heard Twice’s voice in the background saying it was an accident.

“Look, it doesn’t matter, because the events been cancel due to concern.” You explained.

“ARGHH, figures!” Shigaraki screamed, “look, I’m just here because I have a quick job for you. The others are out setting up our next attack so you’re the only one available.” He said.

“But- but I have something to do right now,” you said, hoping you wouldn’t have to go.

“Well drop it. You’re not getting out of this one. Besides, it’s simple. Get in and get out.” He said.

“..alright,” you didn’t know why. It wasn’t like this was your first job, but it made you want to cry.

“Good. All you have to do is get into heartfilia manner. Boss man, Jude Heartfilia, hired the league for a job offering big banks. He never payed up. All we want is revenge and you’re our best stealth fighter. So get in, kill the man, and get out. Oh! And grab his checkbook too, it’s signed off with his name already. Sounds like easy money. Okay?” He explained.

Kill. Kill. It wouldn’t be your first time. Heck, it wouldn’t even be your 100th time, but the thought of doing it again made you nauseous. However, denying a request from Shigaraki made you even more nauseous. You feared him. You didn’t know just how powerful you were so in your mind, you were the weakest link in the league. So with that in your head, you answered. “Okay.”

You looked towards Rumor in sadness. He seemed to have known what was about to transpire.

“Go get ready, Rumor. We have a job to do.” You said as you walked towards your closet to pull out your villain costume tucked in the back. What stopped you was your...whatever he was to you, walking in.

“Hey princess, I’m back! Miss me?” He said with open arms, closed eyes, and a cocky face, expecting you to leap into his arms. But nothing came. He opened his eyes and saw you near your wardrobe.

“K-Katsuki! Hey! Umm, I’m sorry, but something came up so I can’t really hang right now.” You explained while closing your dresser and walking towards him.

“Oh? What happened? Do you need some help?” He offered. Ugh, why did he have to care about you so much. It’s making things so much harder.

“Um, no. I’ll be good. I just remembered...Korra wants to speak to me. So..I’ll be heading out to talk to her for whatever she needs.” You lied. You felt so guilty lying right to his face but it had to be done.

“Mind if I joined you?” He asked.

“Um, yeah actually, I kinda do. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that these meetings between mentor and pupil are kinda..private. You know?” You asked. You could feel in your soul how furious Korra was that you were using her name to lie your way out.

“Okay, no problem. I’ll see you later?” He said hopeful. You couldn’t deny him that.

“Of course,” you said while giving him a tight hug and a peck on his cheek. Satisfied, he walked out of the room and off to wherever. You let out a sigh as you shut the door and locked it. “Okay Rumor, let’s go.”

——————————————————————————

Rumor was in giant hawk form as you sat on his back and you both were flying over the estate. You looked down and saw the place covered with security, however, there was a landing on the rooftop with a doorway inside. You had Rumor glide down there in silence and quickly tranformed back into Wolf-dog form mid air as you landed on your feet. You both quickly ran inside but not before knocking out the single guard standing inside.

Inside, you both were very cautious. The halls were surprisingly emptied. Nothing but a guard or maid here and there. When you finally found the master bedroom, you busted in and saw he wasn’t there. You scoped around, checked his private bathroom, and still got nothing.

“Rumor. Go into the closet and find some dirty laundry or something. Track his scent and then come find me.” You ordered and Rumor nodded in confirmation. You went back out into the halls and found his study. You walked in prepared to kill and get you still saw no one.

‘Where the hell is everyone?’ You thought to yourself.

You saw scattered papers laying on his desk as you approached the laying furniture. He must’ve been in a hurry if he left the place so disorganized. That or he’s always been a slob. You scurried through his desk and drawers and found his checkbook.

“Bingo. At least we found one thing.” You placed the check board into your pocket as you continued your search. You read through the papers on his desk and saw he had frantically signed a signature to book a place at the Inko Hotel right in Musutafu. Then your eyes went wide.

“.......He knew!” You said in shock. He knew the league would send an assassin. Right when you said that, Rumor came in and barked. He had his scent. You ran towards Rumor as he transformed into giant wolf form and hopped on him. He began to run not caring about the people he bumped in to. Security obviously noticed you all and began shooting at you. You turned around on Rumor’s back and used your metal bending to stop the bullets and send them back, killing others in the process. You cringed behind your mask at the sight but kept a strong facade as Rumor finally made it out. You jumped into the air giving him enough time to turn in a giant hawk again and fly off, picking you up mid-air along the way. You both flew off as fast as you could to the hotel where Rumor’s nose was taking you.

Once you arrived you entered the hotel through a back way entrance. You realized you would have to fit in so off came your black cloak and mask. You walked around in your villain costume that thankfully no one was suspicious of and followed Rumor’s nose. He sniffed the floor and followed Jude’s scent until he reached door 402. You noticed a guard standing by and so you used your charm to seduce the man. While he was distracted by the flirt, you surprisingly used your dim mak and paralyzed him from the neck down. You knocked him out and dragged him to a storage closet and returned to the room. You busted open the door and saw Jude laying there in his sleep. You shut the door and locked it. In case he woke up, you put your cloak and mask back on as you approached his unknowing body.

‘He looks so.....peaceful.’ You thought while watching him. ‘But I have to do my job...no matter how cruel,’ you reminded yourself. You reluctantly and shakenly used your air bending to create a sphere of wind around the man’s head. While maneuvering your hands you took his breath away, depriving him of oxygen and killing him in the process. You just killed a peaceful man in his sleep. As you came to that realization, you released a breathy sigh as you put your hands together to pray for him and allow his spirit to leave the world in respect.

Once you opened your eyes again, you noticed tears pricking at the ends. You hated this part of the job. Stealing and grifting was easy. But murder? That was a whole ‘nother level that made you want to scream. As you walked off with your head handing low, you left the building in a sadly successful job. On the journey back to UA, you called Shigaraki through the earring and told him of your mission results. He congratulated you on a job well done and asked for you to return the checkbook when they would later attack UA. Your face grew sour at the reminder that you’re all here just to create misery. What a pity.

You had noticed Rumor had gotten generously tired and so you opted to just walk instead of fly home. It wasn’t that bad and you needed to clear your head anyway. After walking for some time, you were close to the dorms but as you took a turn, you of course ran into....... Bakugou?!

Due to a quick reaction, Rumor had shrunk to a mouse and you were so thankful you wore your cloak and mask....YOU WORE YOUR CLOAK AND MASK!

“Woah! Hey! Watch we’re you’re-“ he cut himself off as he noticed your attire. He recognized you instantly. “You’re...Titania!”

Thankfully he wasn’t aware of who was under the mask. You picked up Rumor dashed off before anything else happened. But Bakugou being the hero he is, he chased after you.

“Hey! Get back here!” He said using his explosions to blast himself further and give him some speed. However, you had a few tricks yourself. You used your air bending and applied it to help with your running and give you a boost.

As the chase went on, you zig-zagged through alleyways and over city obstacles like trash cans and such. Bakugou was right on your tail...or so you thought. As you turned back to see if he was still behind, you saw nobody, and in the heat of the moment, you let your guard down. You allowed yourself to stop and just breath as you layed against a brick wall in the shadows but to your surprise Bakugou had tackled you to the ground from the side. Now he had you pinned down as he huffed closed to your face.

“You damn villain scum“ those words made you cringe behind your mask. He was right. Villain scum is what you are, but those words coming from Bakugou just made your heart hurt. “What the hell are you doing out here?!”

When he asked that questioned, you remained silent. He grunted as his eyes squinted in frustration. “Tell me!” He demanded.

As your head got back in the game, you kicked his groin and used some wind to push him back. Throwing him behind a pile of trash cans, you quickly used your fire bending to blast you into the air as Bakugou’s sight was blocked. You threw Rumor’s mouse form into the air as he transformed into a giant hawk and you both escaped before Bakugou looked back up to look for you. You successfully got away.

—

When you returned, you had Rumor go back to his mouse form to sneak into the dorms. You waited by the side as Rumor went to retrieve some clothes for you to change into on the side of the building. When he returned, you changed under your cloak and then hid it as you walked in with Rumor. You passed a few students but none seem to be suspicious of anything. You made it to your room and sighed in relief as you layed down but then, Bakugou of course barged in.

“You’re never gonna guess what the fuck just happened, Princess.” Bakugou said as he threw off his jacket and flopped on top of you. You let out a ‘Oof,’ and giggle as you began to pet his head. Yes, you felt guilty for what you did and were about to do but you had to. Right?

“What happened, Suki?” You confidently said. Bakugou slightly flinched as he looked up to you with a slight blush.

“Suki?” He questioned.

“Mhm! My new name for you. Cute right?” You happily said.

“M-mhm,” he said as he tucked his head away in your chest and blushed even more.

“So tell me what happened.” You said. He sighed before speaking almost as if he was frustrated.

“I was out walking after stopping by my parent’s place to drop something off and I ran into..Titania.” He explained.

“Titania?” You played dumb, “that top ranking villain?”

“Not just any top ranking villain. She’s the top and most wanted female villain out there. She’s bad news and I chased her down. Of course she got away though, can’t believe I thought I could take her down. Her skill level is insane. She’s had to have been fighting since she was probably our age or even younger.” He went on.

“You know her age?” You said with a slight panic. You didn’t want Titania’s anything to be revealed.

“With her skills, I’d bet she’s at least in her late 20s.” You were slightly flattered by the fact that Bakugou thinks you’re that powerful, but of course he didn’t know it was you. That was kind of disappointing though, he didn’t know who you truly were. Then you thought back to what he said. Villain Scum. If that’s what he thought Titania was, then when he found out who she really was, he would definitely have a thing or two to say about you. You saddened at that thought but wanted to change the topic after becoming slightly uncomfortable with the “news.”

“Don’t let it get to you. We are still hero trainees after all. We can only do so much. C’mon, let’s watch a movie and cuddle instead.” You offered to which he happily agreed. And so you both sat and just enjoyed each other’s presence and the movie. You were seated in Bakugou’s lap as you both sat on your bed just living in the moment. Bakugou would pepper you in kisses every now and then to which you laughed and happily accepted.

You loved the time you got to spend with Bakugou. It felt right whenever he was around. Your life was a hot mess but then he came and became your little getaway. He was a breath of fresh air to you and everything about him just made you smile. His presence made you happy, his smile made you swoon, his touch had you melting and his kisses were just...amazing. You guys weren’t an official couple, but you were something. And although it was confusing, that something was enough to fill your heart with all the warmth and love that you’ve been missing for the past 16 years of your life. The only question was...how long was it going to last before it all came crushing down?

*sorry for any spelling mistakes, this was quick and delayed*

[luvlyrv]

The Fleeting Image of You | Wendy x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst and fluff

Summary: Your world was falling apart at the seams, until a mysterious girl fell into your life. Then, you began to fall for her.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: First time I’ve written something with the intention of making you cry. Please tell me if you cried, or if it at least made you sad. That’d be pretty epic. Is it mean of me to say that?

Also, I apologize for taking so long to upload something... I’ve been flooded with work lately and school is just getting way more stressful now :/ I have some stuff lined up for ‘Naughty’ and ‘Our Songs’ btw! Just have to finish.

Date: 2/2/21

You sigh as you sit down in your favorite corner of the library. You set your stuff down, making it known that you'd taken the seat, and stood back up to begin scouring for something new to read.

Spending your time in the quiet and tranquil local library had become a new favorite past-time of yours. It was strange, you thought, how lonely you felt recently. You couldn't help but find yourself disconnected from the majority of the world, a cloud of sadness following you everywhere. No matter how much you tried it felt like you couldn't bother to reach out. Yet, when it came to the library the loneliness exhibited here was not something awful, but rather something chased after. Something you can find comfort in.

You stop in front of a shelf as you reach out for a book with a maroon cover. It seemed to be on the older side. You gently grazed the spine of the book, enjoying the rougher texture it had. You pull it out of the shelf, only to be surprised that it had no writing on either side of the book. Perhaps the title and author would be written in the first page.

You open up the book to look inside. Instead of any text, the first page was a beautiful ink illustration. It seemed to be a design of a mirror. You trace the image and upon closer inspection, it didn't look printed on. It was as if someone drew it in the pages by their self. Maybe someone left their sketchbook here? Or perhaps this was just a strange, unlabeled picture book?

Intrigued by the illustration, you go back to your seat to sit down and flip through the other pages. After the mirror, there was an image of a girl, and after that an image of another girl. You smile a bit, finding the images cute. Especially the one of the second girl, who seemed to share the same hair length and style as you. While in the middle of admiring the art in front of you, you felt a presence. You turn your head up, only for the sight to make your breath hitch as a beautiful woman stood beside you. The stranger was also seemingly enchanted by the book in your hands.

"H-hi" You say softly, mesmerized by how soft her brown hair looked as it cascaded around her face. Her eyes that were scanning the book moved to look into yours. You felt your mouth dry up.

"Hey, I was just wondering if it was okay for me to sit at this table next to you?" The voice that left her mouth was laced with a friendly confidence. You quickly looked around the rest of the library, noticing the overwhelming amount of empty tables. You decide to not question it though, because why would you deny the company of someone like her?

"Sure." You nod as you answer, she flashes you a smile and sits across from you. She tugs at the bookbag she has around her body to open it, pulling out a thick book. You look back at your own book, but you can't seem to focus anymore. You flip the page to try and look busy, but you don't really pay attention to what's on the paper anymore. Your eyes glance back and forth from your book to the woman, who's now peacefully reading.

It takes time for the courage inside of you to build up, and you're afraid of disturbing her, but you felt like you had to say something.

"So… " You begin speaking. The stranger's head perks up as she gives you her attention. "What's your name?"

"Oh I'm sorry!" She laughs a little bit, the noise is akin to a sweet melodic bell. "I never introduced myself. You can call me Seungwan, and you?" You notice that Seungwan slips a bookmark into her book and gently closes her book. It seems like she's giving you her full attention, a feeling you haven't felt in a while. You smile before you talk.

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you. What brings you here today?" You start playing with your hands underneath the table as the nerves begin to truly settle in.

And that's how it all started.

*

*

For the past couple of weeks your mood had been brightening significantly. Before, it was hard to get out of bed for the day to attend your classes. It was hard to even pick up your phone and reply to the very few messages you got. Most of them being from Yeri, the only person you'd consider a real-friend who occasionally checked in on you. Yet lately you found yourself hopping out of bed, excited with the prospect of wrapping up your day quickly to head to the library as soon as possible.

You now officially considered the library to be your second home. Instead of working at your desk you could work in the quiet library, surrounded by the smell of books and coffee and most importantly, Seungwan. As the two of you grew more familiar with each other Seungwan seemed to have a paradoxical effect on you.

The way her eyes stared into yours, all her little mannerisms, they would make you struggle to continue speaking coherently. At the same time though, her sitting across from you, quietly humming, made you feel at peace.

You wouldn't mind spending everyday like this, an evening filled with library-talk with Seungwan. It wouldn't hurt to switch it up a little though. So, when Seungwan finally came over to your little nook in the library, you excitedly jumped from your seat.

"Seungwan! How about we go do something fun?" You haven't even put your things down, expecting her to say yes. Instead she decided to tease you a bit first.

"Oh, is this not fun enough for you?" She plasters on an exaggeratedly hurt face and you punch her arm softly.

"You know I don't mean it like that. How about we go somewhere else for once?" You lean closer to her and tug on the sleeve of her cardigan to beg, and she quickly sighs in defeat.

"Let's go to a karaoke place then." She casually suggests. Meanwhile you start to panic, because god what if you embarrassed yourself in front of her?

"Well, uhm! I'm not too sure about that, how about we-"

"You're the one who's begging me to go out, so I'm picking where!" There's a playful tone in her voice as she immediately turns away from you, heading outside the library. You quickly follow her and decide not to worry too much about your singing skills.

When you arrive to the karaoke place and are ushered into your own room with Seungwan, you start to get nervous. She doesn't fail to notice the way your wiped your hands on your thighs as she hands you a microphone.

"Are you nervous?" She asks as she grabs a microphone for herself. She steps over towards you and sits down on the plush couch next to you.

"No. Maybe. Just a little." There's a pause before you admit your true feelings. "Yes, a lot." The both of you laugh at your comment before Seungwan gives you a friendly nudge.

"I won't judge! I promise you, just don't worry about it and we'll have fun tonight." She stands up and selects the first song for the evening.

If you didn't say that what you heard was angelic, you would be the world's biggest liar. You couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. It was as if an angel held a private concert just for you. Or perhaps, if sirens were real, this would be what they sounded like. Regardless of what you can compare it to, it was a special sound you wanted to treasure forever.

"I'm not sure how I could top that." You laugh after she finishes. She shakes her head before talking to you.

"Who said anything about being on top? Just have fun!" Then she drags you to go over and choose a song to sing.

You're nervous, you really are, but you decide to trust in Seungwan's words and give an honest performance. You pushed away your worries as you tried to enjoy yourself. By the end of the night, her promise came true. The many duets and solos you guys shared strained your throat, but it was a pain that was worth it.

Before the time in your room ran out Seungwan decided on singing one last song. You gave her some cheers as the song started playing, giving her some not needed (but hopefully appreciated) encouragement. After several seconds she finally started singing. Once again you found yourself feeling like you were on cloud nine solely from her voice.

It took a while for you to snap out in the trance-like state you entered, but once you did you truly appreciated the lyrics that your friend was singing.

"Do you think of me when you open your eyes in the morning? So you think of me when you see something nice? Do you laugh alone out of the blue like I do?"

It's a slow song, a soft song, a song filled with love and affection. It felt like her voice was built for something like this. As you listen to the lyrics heat begins to spread on your face. It felt like recently you've been asking the same questions to yourself about a certain person.

"Tell me is this the first time? Have you fallen for me as much as I have fallen for you?"

Maybe it was the intense desire in your heart that was playing tricks on your eyes, but it seemed like Seungwan's eyes kept looking between you and the screen more than usual. That there was a flicker of something within her welcoming brown eyes. Your heart is pounding too fast now. It threatened to beat out of your chest as your heartbeat filled your ears, becoming louder than the music itself.

"I want to know everything, if my heart has grown deeper than yours like a fool."

Certainly those lingering glances meant nothing. You ignore your feelings as you try to calm yourself down. When the song ended your time at the karaoke room was over. You complimented Seungwan before thanking her for her time. After promising each other to go out for karaoke another time, the two of you went your separate ways home satisfied with the fun night out.

When you got home, you pulled out a familiar maroon book before laying on your bed. You never properly checked it out. Mostly because it didn't even seem like a library book, judging by the fact that it had no stamps nor barcodes. You assumed that not many people were picking it up anyways, and so once you had your time with the book you'd carefully place it back where you found it.

It was odd that you wanted to keep the book so much, but that was due to how strangely comforting it was. Every once in a while you would pull it out again, only to admire it and its wordless contents. Besides the first few pages, every illustration had two girls together. Maybe those two girls were just friends, but in your mind you liked to imagine them as lovers. Your favorite illustration of it all was one towards the end. On the final pages there were illustrations of a night sky speckled with stars, the girls looking out to the sea.

You sigh before putting the book down and turning off the light. Closing your eyes you wonder, is that something you'd like to experience?

*

*

It's been a couple months now. You've spent a considerable amount of time hanging out with Seungwan, as well as a considerable amount of time gushing about her to Yeri. You never explicitly said you liked her, but you certainly didn't hold back on telling your friend every trait you admired about Seungwan.

These days, you and Seungwan would meet up in the library and sometimes stay there for a calm and quiet experience. Other times the two of you would be more inclined to have fun walking around downtown, going to karaoke, or enjoying the bustling energy of a café while drinking coffee.

Today was one of the days where Seungwan suggested to head over to get some coffee. Of course you agreed, as you decided long ago that anywhere Seungwan went you'd want to go too. Not surprised by your easy yes the two of you head out to your typical coffee place.

While in the middle of sipping on coffee Seungwan turns to the side. She rustles through her handbag to pull out two bracelets. She held onto the one with your name on it, while slightly bringing forward the one bearing her name. You stop drinking your beverage as you took a closer look at the bracelet resting in her hand.

It was a simple bracelet made with a dark string running through some beads. You appreciated the cute minimalism of it all. The beads were blue, and after spelling out her name there was a final bead that had a heart on it. You slowly reach out for the bracelet and wear it, admiring the way it felt and looked on your wrist.

You look at Seungwan's wrist as she also adorns the accessory. After your name was also a bead with a heart, and you can't help but to ask why she suddenly gave you such a gift anyways.

"Well… " She begins to look away, perhaps a bit nervously? When looking back at you she quickly looks back down. Unable to hold eye contact she explains herself anyways. "I thought it'd be a nice way to signify our connection. To keep us tied to each other." There's a moment of silence after she says this. You can't possibly control your heart, your mind, your feelings. Could this mean what you wanted it to mean?

"What kind of connection?"

"Whatever kind you want." The words come out a whisper as Seungwan finally looks back at you. Was this an opening? Did she mean what you thought she meant? You let your hand cautiously approach hers. She doesn't back away and let's you take it.

"Can I kiss you?" Your face is fire-hot as you ask, but now more than ever you wanted to. She leans in, and there was the first kiss you shared.

It was short, but it didn't need to be long. When your lips made contact it gave you a feeling of being weightless, yet at the same time it was enough to ground you into reality. This was it. It was really happening.

*

*

It had only been a few short weeks since you and Seungwan started dating. The two of you never said so aloud, but you both knew. She knew by the way you didn't shy to touch and be close with her more than before. You knew by the way she smiled and looked into your eyes. Sometimes when you like someone enough, you don't have to say it to understand.

Today when meeting up at the library Wendy took you out to eat at a nice restaurant. After enjoying dinner together she said she had something important to show you, curiously you followed her as the two of you eventually arrived at the boardwalk.

Since eating dinner took a while, it was now night. The bright white stars speckled the dark blue sky, while the inky black sea reflected the moon and the streetlights. Seungwan takes your hand, casually walking down the boardwalk with you while taking in the sights. You hum while enjoying the feeling of her hand in yours.

"Is this the important thing you wanted to show me?" You ask.

"I just wanted you to appreciate how beautiful the world can be sometimes, how beautiful living is." She says and looks at you. She gives you a smile. The kind of smile that told you that a person was content with life.

At one point Seungwan stops and leans over the railing, staring out to the sea. You lean over the railing right beside her. You spend some time admiring the sea, but you would rather turn and look at Seungwan. As you look at her she's still facing forward. Then she asks you a question you weren't expecting.

"Do I make you happy?" You would like to believe it's a rhetorical question, but she says it with a straight face.

"Of course you do, silly." You reply, scooting closer to her body to warm your own up. She smiles a bit at your answer before looking at you. There's a pause before she continues questioning you.

"Does anything else?"

"I don't know. Anything can be good as long as it's with you." You answer honestly, but Seungwan seems displeased. With a slight frown on her face and a glint of worry in her eyes she begins to hug you.

"I hope one day, Y/N, you realize you aren't alone." She says as she strokes your hair, tightening the embrace between the two of you.

"I won't be as long as I have you." You whisper into the crook of her neck. A moment of silence passes before she sighs and whispers.

"I wish you didn't rely on me so much."

"Why?"

She breaks the embrace and you begin to miss the warmth until she takes your face with her two hands. She looks at you with a longing you never saw before. Her eyes were watery as she gently confessed.

"Because I don't know how much longer we have together." You almost ask her to explain what she meant before she softly placed a kiss on your lips.

You wake up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as you look around your room. Just a moment ago you were by the sea with Seungwan, and now you were back in your room. You flopped in your bed in frustration that you dreamed up a scenario with her. You calmed down though, knowing that you could visit her again later today.

After attending your classes for the day you excitedly made your way to the library. You walked towards the little corner of the library that you and Seungwan always shared, surprised to see that nobody was there. You sat down at the table anyways, opening up your bag and trying to immerse yourself in a book. Your foot tapped and tapped, the words your eyes saw across the page meaning nothing to you. It had only been 10 minutes, but it felt like forever.

Annoyed at her absence, you walked around searching for her, thinking maybe she was hiding and playing a trick on you. You whispered her name as you peeked your head around corners, going up and down in the aisles between selves. Fed up with searching, you went to a familiar librarian and asked if she'd seen Seungwan yet.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but who's Seungwan?" She said with a confused look on her face. You gave her a confused face back, shocked that a woman who had recommended books for the both of you to read, a woman who had watched your blossoming relationship with Seungwan progress, act like she didn't exist. You scoff and laugh it off.

"Sorry for asking." You say in a slightly sarcastic manner and go to pick up your bag. You reckon that Seungwan made her play along with her joke. You'd have to scold her for messing with you so bad later today.

You're bored and you don't know how to spend your time with Seungwan. As you walk down the familiar path, looking out to the sea, you grab your phone and decide to call Yeri.

"Yerim!" You call out as soon as you hear her answer the phone.

"Yeah, what's up Y/N?" She asks you.

"I'm bored and have some time to kill since Seungwan isn't here today. Do you wanna grab something to eat?" There's a silence on her end for a while.

"Sure, where do you wanna meet up?" She asks, but before you can answer she gives you another question. "Also, who's Seungwan? Is this a new friend you made? You should introduce me to them!" Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden and you don't know what to say. You stammer out a response for Yeri.

"Uh, just meet me at the boardwalk. I'll be waiting here." Before Yeri can say anything else you end the call. You bite your tongue in frustration. Did Seungwan make Yeri play in on this too? Despite all the reasoning you tried to do, a deep, unsettling feeling took over your entire body.

When Yeri arrived, you smiled and went about your day with her. Throughout the day Yeri noticed that something was off about you. You kept zoning out and were unable to really hold a conversation. As frustrated as she was with your lack of engagement, she figured you were working through things and didn't question you about it. Later that night she dropped you off at your place and you thanked her. You went back to your room, allowing yourself to putt all your weight on your bed as you stared at the ceiling.

The tears you had been holding all day finally broke through. The hot and salty tears streamed down your face uncontrollably. Had this all just been a cruel joke from your mind? Was it just a dream that lasted too long? Maybe, just maybe, the voice screaming in the back of your head was right the entire time. Seungwan was just too good to be true.

You decide to pull out a book from your nightstand, the book that you found within the bookshelves the day you met her. Thankfully the book was there. Perhaps your memory didn't fail you entirely. When you opened it to the first page though, you were shocked to see nothing. Frantically, you scanned through all the other pages only to see them in the same state. You wanted to question it, but considering what happened earlier today you just couldn't.

All you could do now was cry. Nothing made sense to you. What happened to the person you just kissed mere hours ago? The person who made living bearable again?

Afraid of getting the book wet, you quickly close it and put it away. You raise your hand up to your face as you sniffle. Wiping away the waterfall coming from your eyes, you feel the soft scratches of a string and bead. You pull away to see the bracelet you so distinctly remember putting on snuggly fitting on your wrist. Nothing made sense and you could only come to one conclusion.

She was gone, but not gone from your memory.

[saladejin]

Admire | Prologue

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary:  You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Slight mention of absent parents and some unhealthy mindsets

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Finally getting around to posting my most recent ongoing series. The prologue is written in 3rd person, but from then onward it continues in 2nd. Hope you enjoy! :)

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All she could see were those eerily beautiful chocolate-brown eyes looking back at her. Even though she’d only first seen them that morning, and besides the fact that they regarded her coolly because of that, she couldn’t help but let herself be drawn deep into them. Melting in front of the man himself, as if he’d cast a spell on her and bent her to his will upon a simple glance.

She could only let a small sigh of acceptance fall from her parted lips. It was nothing but an inevitability at this point.

Kim Seokjin… no, my husband.

The days leading up to that point had been excruciating for (Y/n) (L/n), but for some reason knowing that her entire life had just been signed away to some stranger didn’t shock her as much as she thought it would. It would have, and definitely should have, but the young woman always knew in the back of her careful mind that the day would soon dawn.

“Dear, your father and I told you a while ago about our company connections with the Kims, right?”

(Y/n) blinked the crusty sleep from her eyes as her mother’s words rang sharply through the quiet living room. She sat further back into the plush couch and brought her legs up underneath her, eyeing the way her parents exchanged wary looks.

“Mum, Dad… Please don’t beat around the bush. Yeah, everyone knows about the Kim family because of how filthy rich they are, and even though you guys barely talk about them I do know that our company is connected to theirs somehow. It only serves to explain why Dad’s so successful half the time.”

Her groggy voice held no malignant tone because it pretty much felt like reciting a memorised speech at this point. If her parents were insulted by her brutally honest commentary, they showed absolutely no sign of it.

“Yes, I firmly believed you would’ve kept up with at least some of our more important professional relations. Sorry to get you up early, but there’s something we need to tell you before we leave for our business trip,” her father continued after clearing his throat. (Y/n) quirked an eyebrow in confusion, because it wasn’t normal for her parents to act so interested in her.

They’ve never really paid mind to my opinions.

Well it sounded bad no matter how you put it, but that’s truly what it was like. Working for a big corporation and having to run many aspects of a widespread company meant that her busy parents didn’t have as much time for their daughter. Growing up, she learnt how to take care of herself and didn’t mind developing that sense of independence many of her high school friends lacked. Her bond with her parents was built on a foundation of mutual respect and trust, so when people asked her about growing up neglected, she directly shut down the idea.

In her mind, being brought up by parents who treated you as an adult early on was the best way to get a head-start in life.

“I don’t know if I should be concerned,” The sleepy girl grunted and fiddled with the pyjama shirt she still wore.

“Well, that’s for you to decide now. It’s about the marriage thing we discussed a few years back. Do you remember?” her father asked bluntly, to the point and not sugar-coating a single thing along the way.

“Oh, yes,” (Y/n) hummed after making a small ‘ah’ noise of recognition.

“Where you guys agreed to marry me off to their son?”

The son no one really knows about, to be honest.

“Don’t put it like that,” her mother started sternly, “It was an agreement with the Kims that we made long before you were of age. It’s only right, considering both of our families and their lineages.”

(Y/n) still didn’t allow any emotions bleed into her tone or expression. She wasn’t shocked, upset or disgusted by what was going on, because she knew that this day would come around and rear its ugly head eventually. It was one of the many perks of being born into a family such as hers; having your partner decided for you so that you could keep the family’s wealth and bloodlines within a ‘respectable’ standard. God forbid you ludicrously fall in love, or something.

It was an outdated tradition, but it still existed. She knew this, even if it had in fact been swept under the rug and forgotten about for most of her teenage years.

“The ceremony is happening after we get home. The maids already know what’s going on and preparations are already underway. We’ve left you some files to read up on about the Kims and Seokjin himself, if you’re curious.”

So this is why I got my measurements taken the other night. Sneaky staff.

(Y/n) heard the sound of the front door clicking shut echo through the whole house as her parents finally left. She just really didn’t know how to feel about it all, or how to feel about her future husband. She already had this voice nagging in the back of her mind telling her about how awkward the whole relationship was going to be. Two strangers thrust into marriage, only having uttered maybe a simple ‘hello’ to one another prior.

More likely than not, he was going to be some pompous ass who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, a spoilt brat, and she honestly didn’t know how she was going to put up with a constant niggling annoyance after living such a supposedly quiet life. The cold truth was she wouldn’t be able to, and that would only lead to constant fighting and unnecessary tension. Were there any positives to think about here, actually?

(Y/n) shook her head and groaned in frustration, not caring about the noise level since there would be no staff milling around the house for a few hours yet.

What did they even say his name was? Sock…something? They’re Korean, aren’t they?

She gave up on trying to eat an early breakfast and decided to find the so-called files her parents had left for her to browse. She needed to know a name and birth year at the very least.

Shuddering at the thought of marrying someone twice her age, the young woman slipped into the study room and found what she was looking for almost immediately. There were multiple files on the Kim family in general, but there was only one that held her focus.

Seokjin. Seokjin Kim, or I guess the other way around in, uh, Korea.

There wasn’t even a photo to help douse her curiosity regarding the looks department, but she breathed a sigh of relief after reading that he was in his early twenties like her. No need to worry about perverted old men or baby-faced teens fresh out of high school. Nope, she could cross a few major concerns off the list already. What a plus!

There wasn’t too much to read about on his file at all, but she didn’t mind. Thinking about it now, she was going to have the rest of her life to get to know this dude whether she wanted to or not. Why not keep an element of mystery while you can?

She could already tell she’d bypassed the heavy stages of grief. Only settling deep into acceptance after already having years to move on from any other feeling. This was it.

~

A week or two later was when she found herself standing across from him. Him and his cursed eyes. Cursed, because of how they were so beautiful yet so chilling at the same time. How they looked like they could see so much of a person’s soul with one fleeting look. She didn’t know if she liked it or not, but he had an effect on her regardless.

The minister’s words faded into the background as she observed the tall, silent man in front of her.

Yep, this is Kim Seokjin, and now I belong to him.

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved. No part of this collection may be reproduced, distributed, or translated in any form or by any means. Legal action will be taken if necessary.

[thran-duils]

Dubious Representation (P.3)

Title: Dubious Representation (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Hank Palmer. Reader’s husband is facing jail time and although Hank Palmer entered the counsel for pro bono, he is still going to get a form of payment. Recently single, he’s been lonely and he’s looking for some comfort. Even if it means obtaining it from less than savory means. Words: 2,562 Warnings (for entire fic): Eventual smut, sexual coercion, infidelity, mention of past domestic violence, verbal abuse Author’s Note: Decided on four parts... LOL

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Rich turned on Hank the moment the guilty verdict came through. He had been torn apart in court, Warner using the domestic violence charges to completely wipe Hank’s defense that Rich had been protecting Y/N off the board completely. What jury would think a man who had no issue hitting his wife around would have virtuous means to protect her? No, he was painted as a man protecting what he saw as property. Hank had objected to that comment which the judge sustained but it had already been said and swayed the jury all the way.

“You were supposed to get me out of this!” Rich snapped at him.

“No one was going to get you out of this, don’t kid yourself. And hey, I lost a case for free, so you don’t even have to worry about paying me for wasting my goddamn time,” Hank spat back in hushed tones, picking up his stuff.

Rich looked like he wanted to punch Hank, but the sheriff was already there putting his cuffs on. He instead whipped around to Y/N who was standing there. Her knuckles were white with how hard she was gripping the wooden wall between them, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“You---you can’t leave,” she got out. “Ten years, Rich!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t of gotten yourself into trouble by acting like a slut at that party, this wouldn’t be happening!” Rich snapped at her, his anger boiling over at everyone.

Hank was watching this exchange with a sour look, his jaw clenched. Y/N looked like she had been struck and he could only imagine what kind of verbal abuse she faced on top of the physical with him.

She gaped like a fish at him as he turned away from her with a glare, letting the sheriff lead him away. Hank finished putting away his things in his briefcase and stood up, coming in between her and where her eyes had been following him.

“Let me take you home,” Hank said gently.

Y/N focused on him, and it took a couple moments for her to register what he said. “I-I drove.”

Hank picked up his briefcase and walked out of the defense area, coming past the wall to where she was standing. He gestured for her to follow him. She shot a look at the judge who was already moved on. Swallowing sharply, she picked up her purse, she wiped at her eyes, and let his hand come to the small of her back as he guided her up the aisle towards the exit. Hank wanted to strangle Rich for making her so upset; his stomach was tight from the anger swirling at the whole situation.

He walked her to her car. The anger got the better of him and he poured out, “You know if he would’ve told me from the start that he had smacked you around, I wouldn’t have taken the damn case! Do you realize that’s what made us lose this case? Had nothing to do with me! Not even I can make a wife beating dickhead look good! Especially one with a wife who has a squeaky-clean record like you do! He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. You’re gonna be alone now because of his stupid, asshole decisions! And then he has the fucking audacity to say that shit to you as he’s leaving? If I knew I wouldn’t have gotten charged with assault myself—"

Hank stopped on a dime seeing her lip was warbling.

“I can’t... I can’t... I need another job,” she sputtered, her shoulders slumping defeated. “What am I going to do without him?”

Taking a deep breath to level himself out a little, Hank put his briefcase down on the cement. His hands came to her shoulders, and he caught her attention, peering into her eyes.

“I know this is all very sudden and frightening but just take a deep breath with me, okay? Okay?” She nodded and took a deep breath, him mimicking her movement. It took a few but she stopped looking like she was going to completely lose it. “Let’s get you home. Unless that’s going to be too much for you? Pictures and whatnot at home? Lots of memories to dwell in. Do you want to go to a hotel?”

“I can’t afford a hotel,” she said.

“I can,” Hank told her, sounding peppy. “Here, let me drive you – in your car – over to The Peninsula – great place, trust me. We’ll get you a room for the night or two, order you some room service. There’s a spa. A pool. They’ve got a killer hot tub.” She looked at loss for words and his thumbs caressed, pressing in with the slightest of pressure. “Come on. It’s the least I can do. It would make me feel a lot better about the whole thing. So, even if it’s just for me?”

Hank knew she was going to listen to him when he put it like that. He would not expect anything less from a woman who had been abused for so long. And he was not one to be above manipulating people for his own gain. He did not want her just waiting around when Rich was released from jail and go right back to using her as a punching bag. Oh, he wanted to shield her and protect her from that. From ever happening again. He was going to make sure he was there.

“What about your car?” she asked, and he knew he had her.

“I’ll take a taxi back over here.”

“You’re going to leave me at the hotel?”

“Only if you want me to.” He could see in her eyes that that was not what she wanted. “I can drive my car back over and park there as well. Do you want to do that?”

She nodded and he held in his elation at succeeding at bringing her in; he was good at masking his emotions. He gave her a quick smile before squeezing her arms and letting go. “Come then, passenger side. I’m driving.”

<><><>

The hotel was nice. Too nice. When you heard the desk clerk say that the room was going to be $540 a night, you grabbed Hank’s arm but he ignored you, handing his credit card over. You almost vomited on the spot. That was almost half a month’s rent.

When you got to the room, he told you to take the card the man had given the pair of you at the front desk for the spa downstairs to it. You asked if it was going to cost more, and he told you to not worry about it. When you looked reluctant, he shoved it into your hand and said he better hear about how great the spa was when he got back.

As much as you wanted to be at home, being away was good. You had a feeling he had been right about wallowing at home being in that familiar space after what had happened. Heeding what he said, you headed downstairs to the spa, making sure to choose the cheapest.

He was waiting on the bed when you got back, watching the news. You had been at the spa for over an hour. You noticed he had changed out of his suit and was in black jeans and a button up.

“I didn’t even think about a change of clothes…” you told him, gesturing that you had gotten back into your same clothes.

Hank shrugged and said, “It’ll be fine.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “There’s dinner upstairs. In about an hour and a half. We can go up for drinks at the lounge beforehand.”

You played with the fabric of your sun dress and said, “I thought you said room service.”

“For breakfast,” he told you, snatching up his wallet and keys, his back to you. He slipped them into his jeans. “Dinner is Cantonese. You like that?” You nodded, shrugging. He smirked at your nervousness, and he assured you, “You’ll find something.”

The bar had a plush wall length couch and Hank led you to a table after the two of you ordered at the bar. You practically sunk into the couch. His arm came around the back of the couch, around you and he leaned in.

“So, you know, you’ve never told me what you do for work.”

You stammered at first, explaining your job. He was keeping eye contact, an intensity behind his gaze, listening with rapt attention. He asked questions about it, advancement and mobility specifically. The two of you fell naturally into conversation and it continued at dinner after you finished your drinks. Dinner was on the rooftop and night had fallen over the city. You had said you wanted the cheapest thing on the menu and Hank saw right through that, point blank asking you if the only reason you had chosen it was because it was cheapest. The embarrassed look on your face said it all and he told you to choose what you really wanted. Most of the entrees would cost what both of your meals would cost at a place when you and Rich went out, but you timidly pointed at something that looked good. He nodded and encouraged you to order it along with another cocktail. He was throwing down money tonight and you felt uncomfortable about it but it was really, really nice.

You paid him back the way you knew how. Fingers gripping the blanket, you moaned loudly as he plummeted into you. His pelvis slapped against your ass, drawing groans from him as his cock dragged in and out. He flipped you over and buried himself in you again, ravaging you with rough kisses.

He fell asleep before you. You were tucked up in his arm against his side, thinking about Rich in jail and what he would do if he saw you right now.

<><><>

Hank kept texting you and setting up dates after that. You had been on three since then. He had told you that he was interested when this whole relationship started, and he had not been lying. He had also told you that if you wanted to continue it, that was up to you. You wondered if that was still on the table – not that you were considering it at this point. But he was a man to be reckoned with, that much was clear. He carried himself with such an air of importance and had no problem telling someone their place – that you had witnessed more than once. And it included with you. He was pushy, he liked getting his way. If he did not like something, he would comment on it, and you would fold up. It was how you knew how to deal with conflict in a relationship. And he seemed perfectly content with it, always smiling when you corrected yourself and agreed with his suggestion.

Despite trying to keep him at arm’s length with a casual relationship, you caved on the third date and had let him into the apartment. Having sex in your marital bed had left you feeling guilty.

You feigned sickness the next time Hank texted asking you to go on a date. And then made up a lie when he suggested another day.

Sitting at work, you looked up and choked on your coffee. Hank was walking through the door, tearing his sunglasses off, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His eyes landed on you, and he smiled briefly, striding up to you. Your coworkers were watching with curiosity, and you wanted to melt into the floor. They knew about your marriage and how Rich was in jail. What they did not know about was Hank. Gods, what was he doing here?

“Hank…” you said underneath your breath, giving him an incredulous look.

“Yes, dear?” he said nonchalantly. Heat came to your cheeks, just knowing your coworkers had heard that. He held the bouquet out to you and said, “These are to cheer you up. You look like you’re doing better. That’s good. I was just stopping by to check in on you.” He shot a look over at your coworkers and smiled warmly. “Ladies.” He pointed at you. “May I borrow Y/N for a second?”

“Sure,” one of them, Maria, said, a devilish smile on her face. She was going to want to know everything when you came back in.

You took the flowers from him and placed them down. You stood up and followed him out of the door.

“What are you doing here?” you asked the moment the two of you were out on the sidewalk.

“Can’t I stop by and say hello?”

“Hank, my coworkers don’t know about us. What if—”

“What if what? They tell Rich? That’s very unlikely,” Hank interrupted. You closed your mouth and he stepped closer. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” You shrugged, averting your gaze. His hand came up and he turned your face back to him. His tone was firm, “Y/N.”

You shrugged again, “I feel guilty.”

Hank cocked an eyebrow, “Guilty?”

“We… we had sex in our bed.”

Sighing, Hank’s hand fell from your face. “That’s what this is all about? Look, Y/N, as someone who has been cheated on, yes, it is terrible. But I’m telling you, these circumstances are incredibly unique and different. You did nothing wrong and the person who did is the one who is gone. And he deserves to be gone. You deserve happiness.”

“It doesn’t make me feel less guilty.”

“Then maybe you should just come over to my place next time. We just won’t go to your place. How’s that sound? No room to feel guilty. Whole new environment. Here, you mentioned you like to cook. How about you come over and we make a nice dinner together?” You looked down at the ground and he closed the space between the two of you. He tipped your chin up and said, “In fact, I insist. Tonight. I’ll pick you up. What do you want to cook for me?” You did not answer quick enough and he pressed, “Hmm?”

“Lasagna?”

“Lasagna it is.” He pulled his wallet out and handed over a hundred-dollar bill, shoving it into your hand. “Here, pick up the stuff and text me when you’re home. I’ve got a nice bottle of red wine to go with it. Sound good?” He was looking at you expectantly and you gave him the answer he wanted to hear, causing him to smirk. “Perfect. I’m glad, doll.”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss. He tapped your nose and smiled, “Have a good rest of your day. Remember to put the flowers in water. I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

Hank walked you back to the door and the two of you did not miss two of your coworkers bolting away from the window where they had been pressing their noses again, watching. Hank chuckled and gave you a tap on the ass as you opened the door before he pulled took his sunglasses back off his shirt and put them on, walking off.

You walked back in and they were all staring at you.

“So, he’s wearing a Rolex…” Maria started off.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx

[imissjoongsmullet]

My Prince (2)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 1

Part 3

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: thanks to everyone who was kind enough to reblog and/or leave feedback on the first part! It makes my day ♥ ♥ ♥  This isn’t my most popular thing on here but it’s got such a special place in my heart  ♥  Also, I promise the next part will have a bunch more fluff so look forward to that~!

►

“Come on,” you hissed under your breath as you attempted to mold your hair into the shape it was supposed to be. If Tou Ma found it messy again she’d do more than just tell you off. If she found you late on duty on the other hand she’d do even worse, so you had to get going.

It had been a whole two weeks and you still felt like a complete novice at just about everything that was expected of you. You kept getting lost and forgetting the many forms of curtsies, you’d over-bubbled the prince’s bath, lost one of his hunting coats. One time you’d even dropped a platter of fruit in the presence of the empress. You were reaching new levels of embarrassment every day and slowly but surely longing for the days spent getting your nails dirty in the gardens with your parents. At least you’d been somewhat good at gardening. In here, everything you did was wrong; everything you were was wrong. And now, you couldn’t even get your hair to sit right.

Groaning as as yet another strand of hair fell down over your eyes, you twisted around and left the maid’s quarters, hoping no one would notice. Dashing through the castle you retrieved your things, trying desperately not to look as panicked as you were. By the time you arrived at the prince’s chamber doors you were panting. You pressed a few fingers against your chest, as if that would magically calm your heartbeat — it didn’t.

To your great relief, prince Minghao was still asleep. You set down your tea tray went to pull back the heavy drapes covering the opening towards his balcony. Now the morning light fell onto his soft features you found it hard not to stare. To tell the truth, you often found yourself staring at the young prince. Minghao had grown up well. He was only one year older than you, but he already looked so much more mature, both in good ways and bad. The way he held himself in body language and conversation astounded you. It was so far from how you’d known him all those years ago and, as handsome as you thought he’d become, your heart sank at the coolness in him. It was as if someone had turned off the lights behind his eyes.

Though when you looked at him now, there was a softness about him that didn’t often show itself while he was awake. His skin looked soft as peach and his plump lips curved into a slight smile that made you not want to wake him at all.

He looked happy. You drew nearer, smiling yourself. He looked so comfortable in the soft plush of his royal bed. For the tiniest moment, you kind of wished you could just slip under the silk covers with him and forget about your duties. He had quite long eyelashes; you’d never noticed that before. They began to flutter and before you could do anything, Minghao’s waking eyes were on you.

With a small gasp you fell back, tripping over your robes and falling onto the rug on the floor. Mortified, you jumped back up, unable to look at him. Hoping he somehow, magically hadn’t seen yet another blunder of yours, you bent over your tea set and began pouring the water.

“You, um, you’re expected at breakfast shortly,” you said. Even though you’d told him this exact sentence every morning for the past two weeks, you hadn’t been able to say it properly once. You couldn’t tell whether it was due to you being clumsy or the fact that Minghao always looked like heaven in the morning.

You heard him groan behind you.

“Your tea, your highness,” you added, twisting around to find him sitting up in the bed, disgruntled frown plastered across his face.

Ignoring the biting feeling in your chest, you walked over and set the tray down beside him.

He didn’t even look at you as he took the cup and lifted it to his lips.

You took that as your cue to leave.

You saw him in the dining room next, where you were supposed to make sure the prince’s breakfast experience was on point. In reality, it was a lot of standing around and waiting. The emperor and empresses’ servants were there as well, one a bit friendlier than the other.

“You’ve messed up your hair again,” Mie whispered when no one was looking.

“I know,” you replied as the short girl’s nimble fingers ran through your hair, swiftly pulling back the loose strands into their proper place.

The room was unusually tense this morning and when the emperor finally opened his mouth you understood why.

“I think we should call forth a meeting about these protests,” he said in a deep, droning voice, rubbing a bony finger against his temple. Emperor Xu Yilan was a tall, slender man with hair down to his waist. He had been a promising presence when he’d first ascended the throne but had lost most of the people’s support in recent years, after his naivety had led to the loss of some of their land to a neighboring empire called Yientan.

The empress placed a hand on her husband’s wrist.

“What am I to do?” the man went on, eyes flitting to his only son for the swift fraction of a second.

“I’m sure your men can put an end to the protesters,” the empress said.

“No,” replied the emperor, “the people are right to protest. We need the highlands back. I’ve got to—” he balled his hands into fists on the table.

“Let us talk about something else, no?” the empress suggested, picking at the pickled vegetables in front of her with her chopsticks.

But the emperor’s head seemed to be swarming with thoughts of only one thing. Minghao didn’t speak at all during breakfast and when he rose from the table you noticed he’d barely touched his food at all.

“Follow me,” he said as he passed you on the way out.

Doing as you were told, you slid out the room, shuffling after him through the many maze-like hallways. The tense atmosphere from breakfast seemed to follow the two of you as well. Minghao was stiff as ever and quiet as night.

Through a side door you found yourself on an outdoor walkway. You’d seen it before; you’d had a pretty good view of it from the apple orchard while you’d worked with your parents but you’d never known where it led.

You looked out into the vast gardens spread out before you, hoping to catch sight of your parents. You hadn’t seen them since you’d come to the castle. You saw some tiny heads here and there behind the various greenery but couldn’t make out anything defining. You wondered whether the wisteria were blooming yet. You couldn’t quite see them from here and they’d always been your favorite. You stood on the tips of your toes to peak over the apple trees obstructing your view. Maybe you could go see them after dark, after the prince had gone to sleep and you’d be— the prince.

You spun around, half expecting to have been abandoned, yet there here was. Minghao was standing a bit further onto the wooden path, staring at you in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, remembering one of Tou Ma’s many slogans: to keep a royal waiting is an act akin to treason — over-dramatic of course, “so sorry, your highness.” You bowed toward him and when you raised your head again found he was still looking at you quizzically. He blinked a few times, his eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth to say something else but were too scared to make a fool of yourself even more than you already had and closed it again.

Finally, Minghao turned around and continued down the wooden path. All you could do was follow. At the end of the walkway, you came upon a tall structure, protected by a pair of heavy doors. Minghao parted them, revealing the most peculiar square room. You walked in after him, gazing up at the impossibly tall walls of the place. They were lined with books upon books upon books, inter-spaced by large, circular gaps, letting in an abundance of soft sunlight. At the center of the room was a considerable open space, in which only a few low tables stood, their legs digging into the soft rugs underneath.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but let out. You’d never seen this many books before. You hadn’t even known this many books existed.

The prince turned around to you once again, and, at seeing your amazement, a tiny, smug smile appeared at the corner of his lips. He lead you to the very center before speaking.

“I need your help with something.”

A little pang of angst shot up your spine.

“Help, from me?” you questioned, “here?”

He nodded. “I’m looking for a book but I can’t remember where I put it. It is called A Vast Unfathomable Secret, about this big,” he held up his hands.

“A Vast Unfathomable Secret,” you repeated nervously, “this big…”

“I’m not asking you the world,” he said, scoffing a little as he sat down, “I’ll be here, reading until you fetch it for me.”

You felt yourself go red in the face again and turned away from him. Looking up at the massive walls of books, your legs went weak. Did the prince not know?

You didn’t know how to read.

Where would you even begin? Dread filling your sandals, you realized you had only one option.

“Um,” you started, turning around, “your highness?”

He raised his head out of a book that looked like it contained a whole universe worth of stories.

“Could you maybe tell me a bit more about what the book looks like?”

He gazed at you bewildered for a small moment before sighing.

“It has a brown cover with gold foiled lettering… quite elaborate in style, and if I recall correctly, there’s a small lily indented on the the cover as well.” He finished the explanation with a gentle nod in your direction.

You nodded eagerly back at him.

“Will that be enough?” he asked, already with his head to his book again.

“Yes,” you said at once, “yes, your highness, thank you.”

You walked up to the nearest bookshelf and began your search, thankful the prince hadn’t asked any further questions about why the title alone didn’t suffice for you to find what he needed.

Regrettably, the large majority of the books on the shelves were brown with gold lettering. It took you forever to pull out book after book, only to determine they were most likely not what the prince was looking for. It wasn’t your fault you’d never learned how to read. How could you have? Your parents didn’t exactly have the money for such luxuries. You’d always been curious though, when you’d seen the upper class sit in the sunlit grass, their noses so deep within the folds of the leather bound objects they wouldn’t even notice if a mouse darted right in front of them. What was it about books that enthralled people so?

Minghao seemed to understand. You sneaked a glance at him from behind a large brown cover, finding him hunched over the little table in deep concentration. His index finger treaded gracefully across the page as his eyes devoured the contents. His lips formed inaudible words as he read. Every once in a while he’d run a hand through his hair, only for it to fall back into his face the next moment. You were staring again; you couldn’t help it. Everything about him made you not want to look away, which was definitely not helping you find the book.

No, you thought to yourself, twisting back around towards the shelf and forcing your hand to wrap around yet another brown spine with gold lettering. You kept going tirelessly, working your way up in silence until you needed the ladder that ran all the way up to the topmost shelf, at least twenty feet up in the air.

Your concentration was cut abruptly with the dull thud of a heavy book. You looked down to see Minghao rise from the floor. He walked over to the bottom of the ladder and beckoned you down.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” you said, still finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eyes as you addressed him, “I couldn’t find it.”

“That’s okay,” he replied and you were surprised to find him… calm? Content? Kind? Happy even? All of the irritableness from this morning seemed to have fled out of him. Books really must be wonderful things, you thought.

“You can keep looking next time,” he went on, “I really would like it at some point.”

“Yes, your highness,” you breathed in disbelief at his sunny demeanor.

That night, all you could think about was Minghao. Minghao and the way he’d sort of smiled at you, Minghao buried in his books, Minghao looking at you from across the walkway. Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. But paired with these wonderful images were sickly waves of dread.

Ever since coming to the castle, you’d known you’d had to be careful; you’d known there was a chance you might…

But he’d been so cold towards you that, in the first few weeks, you’d been able to oversee the tiny flutters in your chest. Now, it was as if the lid of the jar had been lifted and a thousand butterflies tickled your insides mercilessly, making you squirm in the sheets of your bed. It seemed almost cruel, how all of a sudden you couldn’t sleep from the thought of his deep, brown eyes. Especially because the prince would be married off in a couple years’ time and you’d be left alone once again. No, pining after the prince was about the silliest thing you could do at this point; you shouldn’t waste your time. The biggest thing you could hope for was for him to smile at you again the way he had when you were children — when you’d been friends.

“Things are getting out of hand, don’t you see that?” a voice boomed over the long, low table, where five men sat.

Emperor Xu Yilan sat at the head of the table, looking flustered. Around him sat his three most trusted advisers, a pudgy, red-faced man, an elder with a beard so long it lay in his lap, and a youngster with heavy-lidded eyes. Lastly, was Minghao, who looked anything but happy to be there.

“I understand that,” said the emperor calmly, hushing the passionate man to his right, “but we can’t just declare war on Yientan. We’re not ready for that.”

“Perhaps it would be more prudent to send another delegation to plea for the freedom of Shingmin,” the elder suggested.

“As if that will work this time,” the red-faced man grumbled, shaking his head, “listen, the Shingmin highlands belong to us. Shingmin people are our people!” he raised his voice again, slapping his palm onto the shiny, wooden table, “it’s time to take back what’s ours!”

“And how do you propose we do that?” the emperor interjected in a high pitch. You’d been watching the scene from the sidelines, waiting to refill Minghao’s cup should he require it. But he hadn’t touched his drink since the start of the meeting. He’d merely kept his head down and let the other people speak. You gazed at him worriedly, wondering what was going through his head.

“This will not just blow over, your highness,” the eldest adviser said, “the people are angry, they demand justice for Shingmin and rightly so!”

“I will not go to war,” the emperor snapped back, putting a bony finger down onto the table.

“So we have lost.”

“How cowardly!”

“Silence!” the emperor hissed, before putting his head in his hands to rub at his wrinkled face, “we are simply not ready. I’ve led our troops once and failed. I cannot live to see that happen again.”

The silence that followed weighed so heavy, you felt like you could barely breathe.

“Your highness,” the youngest of the advisers spoke up at last, making heads turn. He folded his fingers together calmly and addressed the emperor himself. “Forgive me for speaking so boldly but,” he paused, thinking, “there is one option we have yet to discuss.” His eyes then went to Minghao, who looked like he was holding on by a fraying thread.

One by one, everyone’s attention turned to the young prince.

“I understand he is only seventeen years of age and the enthronement usually happens at twenty,” the young adviser explained, “but given his… reputation,” another pause, in which the entire room held its breath, “wouldn’t it be wiser to hasten the ceremony a little?”

Minghao sat very still, but you could see in his eyes that his whole earth was shattering.

The emperor looked at his son, bushy brows furrowed, contemplating what had just been suggested. You wished he would just say something because the tension was becoming unbearable, even for you. You couldn’t imagine what Minghao must be going through.

You knew what the young adviser was suggesting, of course, and why. There was a valid reason to believe Minghao could do what his father couldn’t, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying for the young prince.

There was a story, a myth, concerning the imperial family of Namin that went back nearly a thousand years. You’d heard this story told as a lullaby when you were a child and couldn’t sleep. Your mother would point to the top of the imperial castle, where the golden dragon statue sat, overlooking the empire, and she’d tell you how that statue used to be a real dragon, how the first ruler of Namin had befriended the dragon and even saved its family from death. In return, when Namin came under attack of a foreign army, the dragon had fought for Namin, giving its life to protect the emperor he’d come to love. As the dragon breathed its last breath, it turned into the golden statue that now sat at the top of the imperial castle, promising that it would come back should the empire ever need it.

Only, the dragon had never returned since, even when Namin fell in deep trouble. Skeptics said it was because the whole thing was fake, but most believed the reason the dragon hadn’t returned was because the emperors that had followed the first hadn’t been worth fighting for. Most believed the dragon was waiting for a worthy ruler to fight alongside of, which is where Minghao came in.

The day of Minghao’s birth was the brightest the land had seen in a long time, making the dragon shine like never before. On top of that, there were various accounts of people saying they’d seen the dragon move that morning, this all leading to the common belief that prince Minghao would be the one to awaken the dragon and bring Namin back to it’s former glory.

After what seemed like forever, the emperor finally spoke up.

“What do you think about this, my son?”

Minghao’s lips parted but it was clear no sound would come out. He closed them again and looked down.

"An enlightened idea," the old adviser said, nodding slowly.

"Precisely," the younger adviser replied, "if we have the ceremony this summer we could—"

"He's too juvenile!" the red-faced adviser cut in.

"He's proved himself more than capable I say—"

"He doesn't even know how to wield a sword properly!"

“He's not bad with a bow, I've seen him—"

"The guards barely take him seriously!”

The sharp scrape of a chair brought the heated conversation to a halt. All eyes went to Minghao, who had risen, eyes still cast downward. Without a word, he turned around and strode out the door.

“Son!” the emperor called, though he didn’t follow.

“See!” the loudest of the advisers sneered, “young and reckless! How would he run Namin?”

It took you a few moments to realize what had just happened. The conversation had been so heavy it had sucked you right in. You shook the daze from your eyes and spun around, following the prince’s hurried footsteps. It was hard to catch up to him; you still weren’t too comfortable with the tight sandals and the restricting robes you had to wear. All you could do was shuffle awkwardly after him, watching the back of his head as it went.

“Minghao!” you called after him, forgetting all about proper terms and honorifics. You didn’t even know what you were doing. The only thing going through your head was how dreadful Minghao had looked and how you wanted to help him. It didn’t matter you hadn’t the slightest idea of how exactly to help him.

“Minghao, please wait!” you yelled, watching him approach his chamber doors.

You reached them just a moment after he opened them.

Abruptly, he turned around to face you in the door frame, the grave sight of his face making your insides churn.

“Leave me,” he ordered, his voice loud and stern, before slamming the doors in your face.

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (I have upped the rating in consideration of sensitive topics I aim to depict later on.)

Words: 6.4K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which history is written on the walls.

Some of my other fics have been showing up in the tags when I use the link post option, so I’m doing an experiment this time. Fingers crossed it shows! If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

Chapter 12: Beta, Part 3

Having long since heeded Ruby’s advice to take a mental break, Steven sits criss-cross with his back pressed against the hodgepodge aquarium. If you ask him, this position is a two-in-one miracle, allowing him both an unobstructed view of the doorway, and sparing him from the deep rooted horror of the creepy dismantled plush still floating an aimless arc through the tank. He loves Peridot to death, but good golly, this latest meep morp is deeply unsettling. He shudders at the mere thought of its water-logged stuffing oozing out from the seams, and then— inhaling deep through his nose— steers his focus back to the phone clasped tightly between his fidgety fingers.

Back to the story, you doofus.

With nothing better to do for the moment and a hyperactive mind to satiate, he’s finally started to read the Unfamiliar Familiar fanfic that Connie sent him a link to a few days before. True to her words, it’s super, super good. Well written, great characterization, and best of all, the author keeps throwing in hints of future romance between Lisa and Archimicarus! Considering that, he’s almost surprised Connie likes this fic so much. She’s normally not much of a shipper. To be fair though, romance definitely isn’t the point of the story. Instead, it’s an AU focused on the mystery of the main character’s origins.

He can’t help but let out a sympathetic sigh as— in chapter 5– Lisa tries to calmly explain to her fellow Stonehearth Coven members that somehow her father, the revered founder of the coven, used to be a prince of the wicked Arcane Court. Most of her once-close friends don’t swallow the news well. As a result, Lisa is left alone to seek the truth of her father’s past, with no allies except her trusted familiar at her side. Lip quivering, he presses his thumb solid against his phone’s screen for a while, as if yearning to reach a healing hand beyond the barrier between fiction and reality and let the young witch know she’s not alone, that he sees and supports her. He makes a mental note to thank Connie profusely for sending along this really good fic, and presses on to the next chapter.

He’s halfway to the end of it when Peridot returns.

For someone who appeared super frazzled by Lapis’s terror-struck outbursts the last time she stood at his side, she sure seems fit as a fiddle now, walking with a slight bounce in her step as she crosses past the fence line and onto the property. At least, he assumes she is. He can’t help but immediately doubt this assessment when she spots him sitting against the inner wall of the barn with that piercing focus of hers and bounds through the doorway like a Gem fleeing the apocalypse.

“Steven, Steven, Steven, Steven!” she cries as she runs to his side, flapping her arms urgently.

Practically tossing his phone to the ground to free his hands for combat, he leaps to his feet so fast that his head grows woozy. His rose-thorned shield shimmers into tangible existence in front of his barred fist.

“What, what is it?” he exclaims, the pounding of his heart devolving into an untamable cacophony as all his darkest fears rear their ugly heads at once. “Is- is it Lapis? Did she leave anyways?”

“Uh, no…?”

“Or, or, or- are we under attack?!”

“Steven, I—“

“Who’s here for me this time?” he blurts, grabbing his friend’s shoulders. “Is it Homeworld? Jasper? The Diamonds? Tell meeee!” he whines, roughly shaking her.

“I- No one? It’s no one!” Peridot exclaims when her head finally stops jostling back and forth under his force, waves of confusion coloring her expression. “I’m… just happy to be back?”

His cheeks burn red as he drinks in her obvious statement and eventually catches his breath. He lets go of her. “O-oh,” he stammers, willing the shield floating before him to disappear into glimmers of light and desperately wishing he could do the same at this precise moment of existence. “Okay. Glad to see you back! Did, uh… did you find Lapis?”

She nods in confirmation, but visibly deflates a little at the reminder of her roommate. “Yeah, she’s perched in a tree in the woods. She said she wanted some ‘alone time,’” she emphasizes with air quotes.

Steven clasps his fingers together in front of him as he lets this news sink in, digits tussling without end for the most comfortable alignment. Bleeding heart that he is, he hates the idea of letting anyone be alone, especially after a revelation this jarring, but he must admit that he himself found some comfort in solitude the night his human half took for the beach, inert diamond in hand. If anything else, it was nice to retreat from all the noise, to allow himself the opportunity to form his own opinions about the situation. Perhaps it’ll be beneficial for her, too.

“That’s understandable,” he says, glancing out the barn door towards the forest his friend is taking refuge in. “She’s been through a lot.”

He squats to pick up his phone from the floorboards then, frowning as he notices a fresh crack on the glass at the corner of the screen. Knowing that— despite his desperate desires— there’s nothing he can do to fix this right now, he shoves it in his pocket and pushes against his knees to stand up. The bottom of his shirt catches on his arm as he does so, briefly exposing the unfamiliar facets of his rotated gem. Peridot’s brows nearly shoot above the upper rim of her visor.

“So,” she begins, nodding towards his stomach. “Your gem.”

With a tired sigh, he tugs his shirt back down. Boy, does he already know where this conversation is heading, and boy, is he sick of having to walk everyone through it. “Yup,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ and getting ready to deploy the exasperated eye roll.

“All this time everyone thought you were a hybrid quartz, but now you’re telling me…”

“...that I’m actually a dia—“

“...that I, Peridot, certified Kindergartener, a skilled specialist on every variety of Gem to ever exist, was wrong??”

“Hold on, what?”

She holds her hand over the diamond emblazoned on her chest as she passionately continues, wholly oblivious to Steven’s bemusement. “I was the brightest Gem of my cut back on Homeworld, and yet somehow I mistook a perfectly formed diamond for a quartz! Ah, hahahah!” Eyes glinting with what he can only describe as a borderline feral energy, she moves to clutch at the sides of her head, thick tufts of lemon yellow spilling out from between her fingers. “Oh, my stars. I’ve lost my touch!”

“Wait, who’s out of touch?” Ruby’s curious voice chimes from nearby. Overjoyed to see her again, Steven whirls to face her with a huge grin as she enters the barn and lounges against one of the support beams, propping a hand on her hip.

“I- it’s nothing important,” Peridot mutters, flushing as she smooths her hair back into place.

Immediately making note of the hint of shame dancing across her features, he nods. “Yeah, we were just chit-chatting! Hey, how’s Amethyst doing, though? You went to talk to her, right?”

Ruby huffs in frustration at the mention of the quartz Gem, grinding her boots against the floor so hard that for a second he’s genuinely concerned she might spark a fire under her very feet. “Tried to. But then she slashed her whip towards me and said I couldn’t help her, so ‘go away!’” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. “Can you believe it? I’m trying to provide some love and support, and she, she just- tells me to scram!”

“Aw, that’s not very nice,” he says with a frown, feeling his heart pulse in sympathy as she begins to pace back and forth across the wooden slats, grumbling under her breath.

“What’s her problem today, anyways?” Peridot asks, crossing her arms. “She’s usually much more amicable.”

Steven nibbles at the inside of his lip as he considers the concerning downward trajectory of Amethyst’s recent behavior. Sure, she can sometimes get snippy when she’s in a bad place, but this past week her outward attitude has built into a continuous problem. He himself has been on the receiving end of her acerbic words more than a few times, such as that afternoon they goaded each other into a duel at the Sky Arena, and that barbed retort she pierced him with at the fountain. Then there’s her fight with Pearl, her resulting emotional seclusion, today’s callous treatment of Peridot, Lapis, Ruby…

He desperately wishes he could pin all the blame for this on a single person, a single event, (because oh, wouldn’t that make his life so much easier), but when he tracks the evidence of her unrest it becomes blindingly clear that her problems began long before Rose’s betrayal was revealed.

“Well, beyond all the, uh… latest stuff, she’s been super insecure about Jasper,” he offers. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his flip flops rhythmically clapping against his heels, he rummages his brain for the easiest way to explain the root of the situation. “Basically, Jasper took Amethyst out in a fight a week ago, and ever since that she’s been training super hard a whole lot. I think she’s desperate for a rematch, to prove she’s good enough.”

“Wait, wait, wait—“ The green Gem holds her hands out, palms open. “You’re telling me she’s got an inferiority complex about Jasper? With where she came from?” She lets out a raucous peel of laughter, holding her sides. “Oh Amethyst! That’s ridiculous! She was made way better than that clod.”

He squints at her inquisitively, crossing his arms as he tries to make sense of the interesting new conversation thread that just flowed out of her mouth. “But what do you mean, where she came from? Isn’t she from Homeworld, like you?”

Ruby freezes in place upon hearing this question, clear worry threaded through her creased browline. Her mouth bobs open as if she’s gearing up to answer his question, but amidst her hesitation— a timidness that, the more he thinks about it, is bizarrely out of place from the bold, confident Gem Steven’s gotten to know from all the other times Garnet’s unfused— Peridot beats her to the charge.

“Pfft, are you kidding? She emerged right here from Earth, and not even from its good kindergarten!”

He slams his hands against his cheeks, internally reeling from this revelation. “There’s other kindergartens?”

“Well, sure! There was supposed to be one in every facet. Until the rebellion put a swift end to the Diamonds’ colonization efforts, that is,” she adds quickly, adjusting her visor. “There’s Amethyst’s Prime Kindergarten in Facet Five, but there’s also the Beta Kindergarten in Facet Nine. And that piece of work is where Jasper was made… poorly!” Giggling in excitement, she rapidly shuffles her feet beneath her. The glimmer of light reflected in her eyes is bright enough to rival a distant star. “You guys have to see it!”

Steven balls up his hand at his chin, deliberating. He has to admit, after the recent emotional upheaval that he now can’t help but associate with this place, he really likes the idea of spending time somewhere other than the barn.

“Huh. Might be worth asking if she wants to check it out,” he says with a shrug. “Ruby, you in?”

The Gem in question nibbles at the corner of her lip, humming low under her breath as she considers his offer. A small bead of sweat hangs above her brow. Sporting a good natured grin, he nudges her in the side with his elbow, hoping he can cheer her up a bit.

“A little more time with your favorite Steven and Peri? Eh? Come on, you know you wanna!”

“Do it, do it!” Peridot chimes in, pumping her fists up and down.

He eagerly joins in with her rallying cry, and in no time at all they’re both circling around their friend chanting those very words. Ruby stands center with her arms crossed and her back erect, desperately trying not to break her stoic facade with a smile. It’s ultimately futile, of course. After all, no one can resist the good ol’ Universe charm forever!

“All right, fine, fine, I’ll come,” she finally acquiesces, and with a smirk, plants both her hands on her hips. “After all, someone’s gotta keep an eye on all you trouble makers!”

Now that Ruby’s officially on board, the trio ventures outside to find Amethyst, Steven and Peridot giggling as they begin to skip around the perimeter of the barn side by side, arms linked together. Brushing a few flyaway curls out of his face amidst the comforting breeze, he glances over his shoulder when they reach the first corner to make sure they’re not leaving their friend in the dust. And thankfully she’s right on their tail, but he can’t help but notice her enthusiasm seems muted. He presses his lips together in concern. Does she not want to go with them? Is he only forcing her into this? His stomach twists with guilt as he ponders this quandary further. It’s not his intention to be pushy, but maybe— between coercing Amethyst to take a break and accompany him to the barn, begging Lapis to stay, and now, nudging Ruby to come to the Kindergarten— he’s only being selfish and manipulative about all this. He thought he was bringing people together, but what if he’s wrong? What if he’s only straining relationships, tainting the already tense atmosphere, making everything worse?

(What if this is the same sort of excuse his mom Rose used to make?)

With Amethyst slashing her whip at a few old rusted cans in the clearing before them, however, there’s no time to waste drowning within what-ifs. It’s like that day he learned about Garnet’s future vision for the first time: if he lets himself get tangled up in the possibilities he’ll never truly live. He sighs under his breath, lips pursed. Of course. Garnet’s right even when she isn’t here. As much as he’d love to go crazy psychoanalyzing the impact of every solitary step he makes, at this point he’s made his choices and whatever happens, happens. It’s time to live now.

Initially, the purple Gem is rather indignant at the idea that the three of them were gossiping about her behind her back— eyes clouded with hurt— but once Peridot explains that the point of their proposed Kindergarten field trip is to check out Jasper’s no-doubt lame hole, she blinks away her bitterness and seems to eagerly climb aboard.

“Sure, why not? ‘S not like there’s anything more fun than roasting your enemies.”

“I strongly agree,” Peridot says, nodding with pride.

But before the newly expanded Shorty Squad can begin their journey, there’s something Steven really needs to address. Something that’s been troubling him all day. Nervous butterflies filling his stomach, he leans up close to his sibling-in-crime and whispers so the others don’t hear:

“Amethyst, can I talk to you for a bit before we leave?”

Her expression curdles, but thankfully, unlike in Ruby’s unfortunate account, she doesn’t make a move towards her whip to push him away. Instead, she meets him with a gaze so hardened and difficult to read that his eyes can’t help but drift away, perhaps a little intimidated by the intensity of this contact.

“Yeah, I guess,” she mutters eventually. She flicks her wrist up at the other two, gesturing for them to get a move on. “Go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”

Ruby and Peridot nod, the red Gem with a good deal more sympathy drawn on her face, (but for him or Amethyst?), and promptly set off towards the warp pad. He continues to watch until they disappear beyond the curve of the grassy hillside, both conversing comfortably. The last he hears before the warp shoots its cyan stream of light into the sky is a hooting laugh from Ruby. Despite how non-ideal this visit has been so far, he can’t help the smile stretching across his cheeks, or how his chest grows all warm and fuzzy. It’s really nice to see Peridot getting along so well with the others now. She’s made such huge strides in the past few months.

Something metallic clangs behind him. Flinching, Steven whirls around. A crumpled, abused soda can lays overturned by the side of the barn. Amethyst— arms crossed tight just under her gem and her hair more spiked and untamed than usual— glares at that poor hunk of tin as if it’s solely to blame for all of this galaxy’s problems. She moves to lean against the barn’s outer wall and peers at him expectantly, like a troubled child expecting judgement from a parental figure.

“So. You wanted to talk,” she says, tone clipped.

“I… wanted to be honest,” he mutters, threading his fingers together as he grasps for how best to word this. “Amethyst… I know you’ve been going through some hard stuff lately. I know everything that’s happened in the past few days doesn’t help. But you’ve been so inconsiderate of like, everyone here.” He swings his arm in a wide gesture towards the barn. “Peridot and Lapis didn’t deserve the way you treated them earlier.”

No response.

Steven frowns, and— a glimmer of quiet frustration bubbling deep within him, the sort he’d never admit to out loud but can’t help but harbor whenever he catches wind of small injustices that he can never seem to fix— scratches an burgeoning itch at the nape of his neck. He… oh stars, he’s going about this completely wrong, isn’t he? He’s being too confrontational. Hmm. Maybe he should try a new angle. Time for take two.

“I know you only acted that way because you’re hurting and don’t wanna think about it,” he continues, “but please, you don’t have to box your emotions away like that. I wanna help. I wanna listen.”

Slowly, gently, he moves to place a hand on her shoulder. It feels like a small victory when she doesn’t shift upon his touch.

“Believe me, you’re not alone in feeling this way.”

Again, nothing. She’s not even looking at him right now, and her jaw’s locked. Even her form feels tense under his fingers, with hard light pulsing back and forth under her illusory skin at an alarmingly unusual pace.

He sighs, gaze dropping towards the ground, towards the battered can she kicked aside earlier. “I’m worried, y’know? But... I understand if you’re not ready to talk… about Jasper, and—“

“Oh, hoh! That’s rich!” she explodes suddenly, jerking her arm away. “You seriously wanna bury your head in the sand and pretend this is just about Jasper?”

He tiptoes away from her rush of anger, eyes growing puffy. “I—“

“You wanna know how I feel, Steven? About your mom, and the whole awful mess she made? Do you really? ‘Cause I don’t have a single CLUE what I should feel anymore!”

Amethyst pauses for breath amidst her tirade, briefly locking sight with him with a glimmer of hurt reflected in her violet irises, showing that deep underneath all those twisted layers of anger and resentment she’s just another scared, abandoned Gem like him.

“Rose was everything to me, okay?” she says, throwing her palms wide for emphasis. “And all this time, I thought she was the one Crystal Gem who could be real with me. The only one who wouldn’t sugarcoat things or treat me like a baby. ‘Oh, you’re perfect the way you are, Amethyst!’” she coos in a fake, silky-sweet voice, cupping her cheeks as she openly mocks the very Gem who gave her life so he could exist. “You’re such a strong little quartz, you mean so much to me!’ Hah!”

She pauses to force a bitter laugh, clenching her hands into insufferably tight fists.

“And wasn’t that just a huge load of silt,” she spits, staring off into the rosy distance as if it were but a cruel mirage, the pain more than evident in the taut features of her face. “All along I thought she was this great, faultless person, just like you did. Except she wasn’t. She’s a liar, like everyone else. I’m worthless, just like Jasper said… and Rose knew it.”

Hesitantly, compassionately— heart breaking for the internal struggle she’s caught within, a struggle he intimately relates to—  he tries once more to reach out in comfort.

“Amethyst…”

She sniffles, wiping away the leaking fluid pooling at the corners of her eyes.

(She does not, however, brush him away this time when he wraps his arms around her torso and nestles his head against her chest.)

“Just— forget it, okay?” she says after a quiet moment’s embrace, gently stepping back from his affection. “It’s whatever. Come on, Peridot and Ruby are waiting for us. Let’s dump this joint.”

__________

Ruby quietly shuffles across the loose soil, directing her eyes as low to the ground as possible to avoid having to stare at the Beta Kindergarten’s steep cliff walls. Red sandstone, Peridot proclaims a few feet away to their newly arrived sightseers, whirling in place with her arms extended wide. We’re lucky this place hasn’t blown away. Beta, am I right?

Steven manages a soft laugh at this. Amethyst continues onward with her arms crossed, unimpressed. But Ruby herself? Well, she’s the only Gem here who can say she crossed this infamous swath of sedimentary rock at its very beginning, on the day of emergence. The others may choose to laugh about how soft and unideal the soaring sandstone cliffs are, or about the uneven exit holes and curved walls, but in her opinion it’s no laughing matter. She’s seen firsthand how deadly even a so-called ‘imperfect’ Homeworld soldier can be. Even Garnet barely escaped with her gems intact.

Nervously flexing her fingers at her side as she tries not to dwell on that tragedy, she flashes her gaze upward, daring to catch even a passing glimpse of the top of the vast canyon. In an instant her vision swims with endless pillars of rusty oranges and reds.

Everything on this planet might as well tower over her without Sapphire. The once-welcoming arms of their temple? Monolithic. The vaulted ceilings of the beach house? Her eidetic memory can’t help but remind her of her early days spent marching through Homeworld’s diamond sized hallways with the rest of her squadron, patrolling the same route for well over five hundred cycles straight. The kicker? The Diamonds never had any reason to visit the shipment sector in person, anyways. The hallways were only constructed with such high ceilings to remind any Gem passing through of their rightful place under the Authority.

Over two hundred years, she adhered to their twisted rhetoric. Two hundred years of allowing everyone and everything around her to make her feel small, like she only existed for a singular purpose. Two hundred years of ignoring the tug of dissatisfaction at the core of her gem because of the misplaced belief that orderly subjugation under the Diamonds was simply the rightful pattern of existence. Then, in a beautiful bloom of light… she caught a glimpse of true freedom. And for the five thousand seven hundred years after that, Garnet didn’t feel quite so small anymore. She felt capable, confident, satisfied. Aided by Ruby’s physical strength and Sapphire’s future vision, she finally dared to challenge Homeworld’s rhetoric. She dared to live for herself.

Sighing under her breath, Ruby touches her fingers to the place in her right palm where her missing gem is, tracing the triangular shape of its illusory facets.

There’s no use arguing; Garnet was a better Crystal Gem than she can ever hope to be on her own. And now, because Rose just had to go and manipulate all of them, there’s a strong chance she’ll never get to be Garnet with her Sapphy ever again. Which means that until further notice, she’s stuck like this: short, stubby, and woefully insecure. Hah! Figures. All those years spent fighting against Homeworld’s warped notion that Gems had stagnant purposes and couldn’t grow beyond their stations, and now it’s as if she’s been dumped back at the beginning, like the past five millennia never happened.

It’s a cruel irony.

And yet it’s no crueler than this awful place: a cradle of birth manufactured as a tool of war, a Gem’s very existence leeching the life out of this once-fertile ground. The scars on the walls tell a mournful story, and as Ruby slowly trudges after her loved ones, fingers numb and fidgety in the wake of haunted disorientation, she can’t help but wish she wasn’t present for its prologue.

“Ruby…?”

Her sight trains on one of the tilted exit holes closest to ground level, on the messy silhouette it provides. She remembers this one, in fact, Garnet watched her emerge. She was a carnelian. By Homeworld’s standards, an imperfect one. That doesn’t matter, though. None of Homeworld’s lies matter. Running on nothing but the primary orders she was incubated with, (it wasn’t her fault, it was the Diamonds’, she reminds herself with a bitter growl), that Gem still emerged to poof three fellow rebels on sight. If Garnet hadn’t been so quick to retrieve their gemstones, they might have been shattered that day. Many of the others assigned to her squadron weren’t as lucky. Inhaling shakily, Ruby pauses to trace her fingers across a raised ridge in the rough, brittle sandstone.

“Hey, Ruby!” his energetic voice calls again, snapping her out of her intense focus like a fusion splitting in half.

“Aaaah!” she cries, swinging around and pulling both fists up in defense. Her hands uncoil rapidly once she catches a glimpse of that cheery yellow star.

Aw, scrap! she chides herself, repositioning her feet solid on the ground to regain some sense of internal balance. Damned startle reflex.

Unfazed, Steven grins boyishly, skipping a few steps away from the rest of the group to join her by the cliff wall. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Amethyst and Peridot are watching now too, she realizes, her brief but audible outburst thoroughly diverting their attention from their Beta Kindergarten roast session. Their quizzical glances pin her in place, her hard-light form heating in embarrassment as she struggles to organize the flow of her emotions in a way that might make sense to anyone beyond a fellow ruby. She scrunches up her nose and considers her next words carefully, attempting to strike the proper boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate to say in front of a half-human child. Stars knows Amethyst, Pearl, and herself haven’t had a great record with that over the past few days.

“Just thinkin’ about Sapphire, mostly,” she admits, offering him a saddened shrug. “Can’t seem to stop that, even half a world away.”

“Speaking of that... Why did you run after us?” Amethyst asks in a notably less cranky manner than earlier, lightly kicking at the dirt with the toes of her booties. “You never said.”

“Y’know, I…” She pauses, pressing her hand to her chin. “I’m not sure. I spent days waiting in front of the temple door. And eventually, I guess I figured that if she’s gonna make me wait no matter what, I might as well do something with myself until then. ‘Sides, I didn’t want to be lonely,” she adds, suddenly feeling just as small and vulnerable in front of all of them as her timid voice sounds.

She felt lonely enough when she ran away from home a few days ago, tears streaming in messy rivulets down her face, utterly spurning their attempts at comfort so she could pretend she was anything else than powerless amidst this nightmare. She never wanted to split, not at all. She begged Sapphire to give their relationship another chance, to believe in the strength of their love more than the fear of a diamond’s control, but tragically, her partner couldn’t hold up under the pressure. If one individual doesn’t wholeheartedly want to be Garnet, then Garnet cannot exist. They can’t synchronize. It’s simply the nature of fusion. And given her love’s avoidance, refusing to so much as leave her room to begin with, Ruby’s beginning to lose hope that their fusion will ever exist again. The crippling isolation that realization affords is the worst form of loneliness she can imagine.

Thus, the least she can do at the moment to mitigate these all-consuming feelings is to get off her butt, leave the temple, and ensure she’s surrounded by loved ones.

Peridot steeples her fingers together in front of her chest. “Well, what if you moved in with us?” she offers in a meek tone at first, her expression brightening as she continues to explain her idea. “The barn’s got plenty of room, and with two roommates you’d never have to feel lonely again!”

Steven’s dark irises practically sparkle. “Aww, Peridot, that’s super sweet of you to offer!”

“Wow, thanks,” she replies earnestly, puffing out her chest in a rush of personal pride. “I do try!”

“Yeah!” Ruby says with a hesitant laugh, scratching at the back of her neck. “That sounds amazing, but…”

“You should do it, Ruby!” he encourages, bouncing up and down on his sandaled feet amidst his excitement. “You should totally move in with them!”

“D’ya… d’ya really think so?”

“Yeah! It’d be like your very own vacation, but you’d only be a warp away!”

“And you’re sure you’d be fine with it? Y’know, with everything at home all…” She blows a juicy raspberry, jabbing her thumb down.

Amethyst serves her a big shrug. “I ain’t got a problem. Go crazy.”

“There’s no need to worry about me,” Steven says, smiling evenly. “I only want what’s best for you. And if you think not staying in the temple all the time would make you feel better, you should give it a try!”

Her concerned glance drops on the young half-Gem. Sure, it’s very compassionate of him, actively choosing to care so deeply for everyone’s emotional needs all the time, but home life for him hasn’t exactly been nurturing and hospitable lately. He already lost one of his pillars of stability when Garnet unfused. Pearl and Amethyst are at each other’s necks again. Sapphire hasn’t emerged from her room for days. Greg’s… doing whatever it is Greg does when he’s not hanging out with his son, probably keeping his distance from Gem business as usual. So with all that in mind, even if temporarily living apart from Sapphire is sure to be a beneficial move for her personal well-being and sanity, is now actually the proper time to consider a change in scenery? She purses her lips.

“I’ll think about it.”

Peridot lets out a sharp squeal of delight, apparently ecstatic about the prospect of possibly gaining a new roommate. Ruby can’t help but grin at this response. In truth, if she didn’t have to consider the well-being of Steven and the rest of the Crystal Gems, she’d say yes in a heartbeat. After all, she’s never gotten the opportunity to make many decisions on her own. Heck, she’s never gotten the opportunity to do much of anything on her own. Every time she’s unfused within the last five thousand years, her priorities have always been about what Sapphire would want, what Sapphire would do.

Well, what about Ruby, this time? Aren’t her desires important? What does she want?

Long term… she has no clue. But right now? She’d prefer to avoid dire reminders of old sorrows at all costs, thank you. So when Peridot declares that she’s 99.9% positive she’s found Jasper’s exit hole, Ruby declines to join them in their roast session. She never came here for sightseeing, anyways. She came here as their lookout. Just in case. She’s never trusted this awful tear in the ground one bit, and she’s not about to start now.

Running instinctively on old programming she was incubated with, she creeps deeper between the narrow mouth of the cliffs and summons her gauntlets at her side. Sure, so maybe they’re not as daunting in their size as Garnet’s, but they can still pack one heck of a punch. She’s still good at punching on her own, yeah? Hopefully? Stars, it’s been so long since she’s gone solo for more than a few measly hours.

And then, at the cliff base in front of her, she spots the most unusual exit hole she’s seen in this miserable canyon yet. For one, it’s low to the ground, like Amethyst’s. That fact alone is enough to set off alarm bells in her head. On top of that, its silhouette is almost comically wide and indistinct, not resembling any cut of Gem she’s aware of.

“Huh. That’s different,” she murmurs, pacing closer to investigate.

Maybe an off-color topaz could punch a hole as wide as this? But… no, no. That can’t be right. Hard light coursing wildly through her form, Ruby dissipates one of her gauntlets and runs the tips of her fingers across the crumbly inside surface of this hole. A few granules of sandstone break off upon her touch and clatter against the ground, and she jerks her hand away as if touching impossibly cold ice. Something about this feels... wrong. To be fair, she’s no expert kindergartener like Peridot, but she’s pretty confident the interior of exit holes should be smooth, with striated rock layers extending all the way back. Instead, this bizarre scar in the cliffs almost seems like—

“It’s dug out,” she says, eyes widening in dawning horror.

Which means they may not be alone in this rusted relic of a Kindergarten after all.

Her body suddenly feeling staticky and unbalanced amidst all this damning uncertainty, she tiptoes away from this mysterious feature, slowly at first, and then— as the fear begins to bubble up within her core like boiling water transformed under her power— transitioning into a sprint. We’re not alone, she repeats to herself in a harried mantra. Not alone. Not alone, we’re not alone, we’re—

Ruby’s foot catches on an uneven lip of stone jutting up from the ground, and she quickly plows headfirst into the coarse dirt, promptly ending her terror-stricken flight.

“Ow,” she whines as she recovers from this fall, rubbing at the side of her head. Not only is she a little dizzy, but her surroundings are made further hazy amidst the overbearing sunlight pounding indiscriminately upon the ground floor of this canyon. It’s enough disorientation to allow the jumbled code of her gem to begin to play tricks on her. For one, she swears she can hear this low, timid skittering, like thick claws rhythmically scraping against rock. Second, she’s half-convinced she can feel a surplus of physical vibrations radiating from the cliffs surrounding her. Squinting, she shields her eyes under a raised arm so she can begin to gain her bearings again. The blinding light recedes.

The red Gem gulps fearfully amidst the burning colors of the harsh sandstone landscape. “Wait, is that—“

She’s stumbled her way into a massive clearing, lined on all sides by stacked rows of holes physically dug into the sheer walls. Each opening is barred by a number of thick metal rods, stripped from the legs of the injectors that once incubated this hell in the first place. The thoughtful engineering imbued in this setup is impressive and terrifying all at once. Ignoring the tangible tug of hesitation at her core, she pushes herself back on her feet and creeps towards the closest cage to investigate further.

“Uh, you guys?” she calls loudly as she walks, the unusual curves of this canyon an undisputed blessing as they carry her message back to the others.

“Yeah?” Amethyst chimes back, her voice notably distant. Too distant.

“We’ve got, um—” her hand glides across one of the bent, rusty bars— “a bit of a problem here?”

“What?? Speak louder, we can’t hear you!”

Before she can even prepare to reply, a fur-covered monstrous creature leaps from the shadowy abyss of its prison and snaps its tusks at her. She yells, jerking her hand away from the cage and stumbling a few feet back. Her brow creases in abject confusion as she attempts to process what she’s seeing in front of her. It’s… it’s a corrupted Gem? This one’s most definitely a quartz; she recognizes the faceting, as well as the distinctive fur-covered quadrupedal shape of its corrupted form. But why on Earth is it being trapped within a cage in the middle of a defunct kindergarten instead of being placed in a bubble’s comforting stasis? The ground beneath her feet grows noticeably warmer as a rush of impassioned anger surges through her hard light form. She grinds her teeth together, flexing her fists at her side in the name of this cruel injustice. Caging isn’t part of Crystal Gem protocol for a reason!

Unfortunately, the horror show continues as her gaze passes over each and every cage in this clearing, finding scared, thrashing, corrupted Gems in almost all of them. Fluid builds up at the corner of her eyes as they scream and wail at her, riding a fresh wave of cacophony spurned by that Gem she spooked just a moment ago. How could anyone ever build such an awful place? And why?

Heavy, assured footfalls suddenly bounce across the acoustically encouraging slopes and surfaces of this ravine, magnified tenfold in their wake. Ruby gasps, wasting no time in ducking behind a tall rocky formation at the mouth of the clearing. That’s definitely not Amethyst or any of the others. It sounds too large, too bulky. She kneels low so she can still peek over the topmost layer of sandstone, a knot of dread coiling within as the footfalls continue to grow louder. Groaning, she clutches at her head. The unknown, the impenetrable shadow of the future… stars, it haunts her more than loneliness itself.

And then, the specter of her history reveals herself, making Ruby’s tangible form stutter in the sheer terror her appearance affords.

Jasper— her opponent, her nightmare, the Rebel Slayer herself— emerges from a plume of rising dust at the edge of this populous arena and enters the game.

[bonemarroww]

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary : “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do better next time.” Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings : Homophobia, Transphobia (not from s/o or anyone that matters to Tamaki)

Feedback is welcome !

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

———————— Chapter 4

“So, how are things going with your mate, Chicken Heart?” The bubbly omega asked, sitting with the shy boy at the counter as Mirio was cooking for them in the dorms’ kitchen.  

It had been a few weeks since his accidental confession, and Tamaki still blushed with mixed embarrassment and pleasure every time he heard his friends refer to his mate as, well, his mate . They had agreed to keep things low key for the moment, more for his benefit than hers, before they started any display of public affection.  

When with Mirio and Nejire , though, he did not mind her holding his hand and sitting closer to him than she used to. She did not mind keeping things private for their friends only to know, and had herself only told her best friend, a Beta from her class whom had immediately approved of Tamaki.  

They had not had a lot of opportunities to spend some time in private, not wanting to make his presence in her dorms too regular, and Tamaki not being able to bring her in his room for obvious reasons. They had taken some trips to the city, and found themselves alone one time in the park she liked to frequent –her Alpha was very keen on open spaces where it could feel free from the crowd.  

Even there, she had not overstepped his boundaries, asking him what he was comfortable with, without bristling when he had admitted to it feeling a bit early for more than a quick peck.  

“G-great... She’s p-perfect for me. She s-says I’m the b-best thing that’s happened to her.” He smiled timidly at the memory.  

Nejire cooed, refraining from hugging him –as she knew he didn’t like being suffocated with love so early in the day.  

“Did you two address the, uh... elephant in the room?” Mirio carefully worded.

Tamaki looked down, his smile falling.  

It had been his plan, at first, to confess his love for her and the real nature of his second gender at the same occasion. That way, she would know what she was signing up for, so to speak. He had not either expected her to jump so willingly into their relationship, considering she still knew him as an Alpha and knowing how traditional her family was.  

She had batted away his concerns, stating she would hardly be the first to have an Alpha as a mate (how did he think they had so many Alphas in her family?) and that he was worth any trouble anyone may send their way.  

Still, asking her to scent something for him right after accepting her gift had felt rushed, and he had panicked. Now that things had been settled for a while, he didn’t dare to, afraid she would react badly and think he had manipulated her.  

What if she was only attracted to Alphas? It was unlikely, but it would be just his luck that his assigned gender, that he no longer identified as, drew her to him...  

“N-no... I-it's... Things are g-going so well r-right now... M-maybe I c-can just g-get used to it...” He knew it was a bad idea.  

It would not last; but it seemed so much easier to just keep on like they had been recently. For the first time in his life, he had a mate. Someone who loved him , despite his shy disposition, despite his not being the most articulate or talented with crafts. It just felt like he had a lot to lose now.  

“Tamaki...” The shy boy knew Nejire was serious, for she almost never used his given name anymore. “She won’t love you any less for what you are. Chances are she’ll even care for you more. The last time we’ve seen each other, she was over the moon to be with you. She won’t change her mind because of how you feel.”  

Tamaki hid his face in his arms, his forehead touching the cold surface of the counter. They were right... probably. And he couldn’t keep pretending forever. With his friends he had tasted what it felt like to shed the disguise and be his true self. He didn’t know for how long he’d be able to keep this freedom locked in a closet.  

He startled when Mirio put a steaming plate of rice and fish in front of him.  

“Come on, you’ll need all the strength you can gather if you want to do this.”  

The elf boy let out an incomprehensible mumble, but in the way he lifted his head with resignation to look at the food, Mirio could tell their point had come across.  

.

.

Tamaki took a deep breath. This was as good time as any. Though his mate had been everything nice and patient with him on their date, the knowledge of having carried the plaid she made him for a few hours now was slowly eating at him. He could feel his Alpha growing upset at his lack of answers to her queries, and his general anxiety-induced lack of affection.  

He had managed to lead them to this park they had been to a couple of times, which would be a right place to do this. Though there were still some families out enjoying their afternoon, the place was big enough for them to find a secluded place to sit down, where no one would bother them.  

“I-I had something t-to t-tell you...” He fiddled with his fingers nervously.  

His bag, containing the soft object he had pried from his nest this very morning, was just beside him. He could feel his Alpha increasingly worried at his behavior; but when he tried to look up, the sight of the ridiculous scarf at her neck sent him back to a blushing mess.  

As ugly and embarrassing as he thought it was, it had quickly become her favorite piece of clothing. She kept wearing it even though it was now spring and the air had become warmer and less humid. Every time Tamaki tried to explain how awkward it felt to have her wearing such an ugly, half-finished thing; or when someone commented on the distinct difference between the shapeless mess he had made and the obvious part she had finished; she would insist that it made her happy and proud to wear something they had crafted together. It was romantic , in her eyes.  

“I’m listening.” Her voice was low, slightly tensed, but he knew she would not interrupt him.  

Tamaki took one last deep breath, remembering all of his friends’ reassurance, before closing his eyes and letting go of it all.  

“You’ve t-told me m-many times you’re n-not ashamed of having an A... an Alpha as a mate, but I-I’m actually an Omega and- I understand if- if I’m not... what you’re looking for, but... I thought you should know?”  

It sounded more like a question than an affirmation, but the words were out. For the next few moments, it felt like Tamaki had traded a weight on his shoulders against another; the pression of not having told her replaced by that of not knowing how she would answer.  

A thousand bad case scenarios went through his head in the split seconds before the Alpha’s shoulders relaxed, and she let out a sigh of relief. Before he could understand, strong arms pulled him closer to her, and she nuzzled his neck as if seeking the comfort of his scent.  

“You stupid, stupid Omega...” Her shoulders shook in a bewildered chuckle. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”  

His heart skipped a beat at hearing her refer to him as an Omega for the first time. He almost didn’t register the ‘stupid’ part, high on a second-long relief, before the rest of her words sank in and he panicked.  

“W-what? No! I d-don’t want that...”  

His arms closed around her form, hugging her back with tears of his own, and at his words, he felt her purr slightly. The pleasant sensation, along with her scent so close to him, easily calmed his raging emotions.  

“Me neither.” She affirmed in an unwavering, loud voice proper to Alphas.  

When they separated sometime later, her eyes were dry; and so were his. Tamaki felt odd, in that he knew that now would be the moment to ask her to scent the plaid she made him, while all the while feeling like she had something to say.  

He did not anticipate her words as much as he had her reaction, now that she had made her attachment to him –and her desire to remain his mate– clear.  

“I thought I loved all of you.” She started, smiling slightly, her gaze lost looking at some children running, a bit further down the road. “But now I realize I just don’t know everything about you yet. I can’t wait to discover more and love you whole.” Her eyes found his, her smile growing into a grin.  

This made a blushing mess of Tamaki, as he mumbled that he wasn’t that loveable, and that surely, she would find a ton of things she wouldn’t like about him, because he wasn’t perfect like her. Only when he looked up and saw her gaze grow fond did he realize he was rambling and abruptly stopped halfway through –ironically enough– reminding her how much of a pessimist he could be.  

If there had been any wall nearby, he would have gladly walked up to it and banged his head against it.  

“Tamaki...” His Alpha laughed and nuzzled his cheek. “That’s just one of the many things I love about you. Now, do you have anything you’d like for me to scent?”  

She anticipated his ask, and a blushing Tamaki timidly opened his backpack to give her the plaid. She purred at its sight, carrying it to her nose as she obviously smelled how much he had cuddled and worn it in the past few weeks.  

Tamaki blushed happily.  

.

.

Having his mate knowing him as an Omega really changed the deal. For starters, Tamaki was able to bring her into his dorm room, where they would hang out sometimes –not too often, for Tamaki feared the comments of his classmates. There, they would watch movies together, him comfortably in his nest timidly cuddling the scented plaid and plush; her sat on his bed. Afterwards, when he would sleep in his sheets that smelled like her, Tamaki would dream of being in her arms.

When they weren’t in her dorm room or his, and the weather wasn’t favorable to a walk, they often found themselves in Tamaki’s home. He had shyly introduced her to his mother after a few months of their relationship, when they had tried to sneak into his house while his parents were supposed to be absent. To this day, the embarrassment was still acute, though his mother had invited the Alpha to dine with them so that she could meet Tamaki’s father.  

Despite starting out so awkwardly, the encounter had gone better than the shy boy would have thought. His parents had seen how much the girl cared for him, and seeing their boy so happy with himself and his mate had brought a few tears to their eyes. By the time the Alpha had officially promised she would take a good care of their son, the adults had approved without any second thoughts.  

Tamaki had been understandably very anxious to meet his mate’s family. First, because of how traditional her family was, and second, for the sheer number of people he would have to meet. The Alpha’s family lived in a big estate in the countryside with her parents and grandparents, and she had several siblings. It was very far from his situation as a suburban only child.  

Still, his mate had handled the problem elegantly enough, explaining to her family that her companion currently couldn’t travel out of the city because of his Pro Hero internship. She had then casually invited her parents only to join them so that they could meet him.  

Tamaki had been introduced as her Omega , and though he had seen their looks of surprise as they had discreetly sniffed the air around him, they had smiled at him with genuine warmth. Never had they asked any inappropriate question or made comments that were uncalled for, instead asking him about his studies, his internship, how they had met. Discussion, though stilted by his shyness and anxiety, had been rather pleasant.  

They would have time on other occasions to meet the rest of her family. When they had gotten back to the dorms after leaving her parents, she had rewarded him with a long evening of praise and cuddles –though nothing inappropriate, Tamaki still blushed shyly when he thought about it.  

Every day, when they managed to make time for one another, Tamaki was a bit more grateful for that one time she had come to comfort him, somehow seeing past his scent and into who he really was.  

She had given him the support and courage to out himself to his friends, and after a few months, to the rest of the school. Not that he went out of his way to tell people; but when a curious eye asked about his relationship, or when a first year asked about his alignment on the spectrum out of confusion or curiosity... He allowed his Alpha or Mirio to answer the truth while he faced the nearest wall.  

Only a couple of times had this brought him trouble; usually from disbelieving people who stopped at his scent.  

“Alphas shouldn’t date other Alphas.” A snotty second year Alpha from general studies looked down on them one time, his friend snickering in the background. “It’s against nature.”  

Tamaki felt like shrinking on himself as he meekly protested, though not daring to correct them on his identity. People who invoked nature as their argument rarely looked on people like him with a favorable eye.  

His mate, on the other hand, bristled at the insult.  

“Leave my Omega alone.” She growled, her Alpha’s protectiveness going through the roof. “Or say that again to my face and see how pretty yours will be.”  

To the younger students’ credit, the obvious threat didn’t seem to faze them. Tamaki tightened his hold on her hand, anchoring himself to her. By now, it wasn’t from fear or to prevent himself from going to find the nearest wall; but he wasn’t sure his mate wouldn’t jump on the students to rip their heads off if they didn’t stop soon.  

“Omega?” The second one puffed. “He’s an Alpha, darling. It’s all over his scent.”  

“He’s manipulating you. You deserve better.” The first spat.  

Holding hands or not; it was too late for them. Tamaki winced when he felt her hand rip out of his and fly to the guy’s throat. The other moved back in fear as he saw the girl hit his friend’s face once with her fist closed –which would leave a dark bruise– and then raking her sharp nails on the tender skin –leaving angry red marks that wouldn’t fade before days.  

“He smells like an Alpha because he eats jerks like you for breakfast.” She growled, and Tamaki might have thought her scary if his Omega wasn’t swooning at the sight before him.  

With one last flashing of her canines, she moved back to take Tamaki’s shaking hand in hers. She had never seemed more attractive as she did then, angrily staring down the two younger students, her menacing air undermined by the ridiculous scarf around her neck.  

“Now move out of the way.”  

The two general studies boys quickly got back to their feet and ran away from them. Only when their scent disappeared from the corridor, and Tamaki timidly went to scent his mate in a quick embrace, did she completely relax.  

“I’m sorry for the scene.” She sighed, scenting him back as much for his comfort as for her own. “I shouldn’t pick fights with idiots.”  

Tamaki mumbled the words before he could properly think.  

“I-it’s okay... you were...”  

The Alpha cocked her head in confusion.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you. Did you say something?”  

The boy bit his tongue, blaming her on how little control he had over the words that came out of his mouth when he was in her presence.  

“I-I said... you were pretty h-… h-… Y-you...” Tamaki closed his eyes in embarrassment at how his nervousness made him stutter.  

A warm hand on his arm and a light kiss on his cheek made his mind go blank.  

“It’s okay, take your time.” His mate lightly purred, hoping to help him relax.  

“Y-you were pretty hot!” He blurted out, too loud in his own opinion.  

The shy boy quickly hid his face in her neck, taking comfort in her scent and the purr that doubled against his chest after his admission. When he dared look up again, his Alpha’s cheeks were ever so slightly darkened, her eyes wide and a surprised smile on her lips.  

“Good.” She smirked, rewarding his candor by a firm kiss on his lips.

[sunnieskies02]

Toxic

Monoma Neito x Reader

2022k Words

Trigger Warnings: angsty

Hi! I'm new to this fic writing. I am apart of the bnharem discord server and the server prompt was “it’s 2am, I know that, but I need you…; I’m sorry but I can’t go to you anymore you know that.” If you wish to read more go to @candychronicles

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

Monoma’s voice was always distinct, it always has been. His smooth voice would bounce off of the walls vibrating into your ears as you would hear him talk.

The words he spoke rang through your eardrums and to your disapproval it was something you and him had discussed prior. You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, he hadn’t changed at all. Getting up from the table, you walk down the corridor to hear Momona’s voice crescendo into your ears.

“Your quirks are so… useless. Why would you even come to a school like UA if all you're going to be is a useless nobody.” You stand behind him and still hear him speak down to the support student, making them shrink into nothing.

Shameful

“Hey Monoma!” You interrupt his monologue and see his face turn towards you. “What do you want babe?” He turns his face to you, then looks back at the support student. “Nothing, but I-I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck and hurriedly walks away. ‘His face…’

“Why are you not apologizing to that sweet little support student.” You walk alongside him down the hallway, in the back of your mind you think, ‘Was he always so demeaning?’

“No. I hadn’t thought about apologizing to someone… so useless.”

“Monoma.” He whips his head around frantically to face you, his eyes empty and still. Looking at him face to face was weird, you had never really looked at him directly. Seeing the sharpness of his jaw curve up towards his face near his ears to then his blonde hair that was shining in the sun.

He looked like an angel at a glance, beautiful, loving, and sweet, but his eyes were the key. The key to the demon named Monoma Neito, the part of him that was looked over because of his looks and charisma.

“I don’t need to hear that from anybody who turned somebody like you after being with me.” You were unbothered by his words, but you knew that his words were supposed to hurt you.

“I don’t even know why I dated someone like you. Your quirk is so subpar to mine, I don’t even think that you deserve to be in 1-B, let alone the hero course at all. In my eyes, you are just like that support student, but the difference is that you know more about me than they do.”

As he continued to berate you, his words sank deeper until you drowned in his words. As you fell down the rabbit hole of this idea of love you had found with Monoma, you realized that he was always demeaning.

Blinded by his looks you fell into his trap, locked in with his idea of love. He only dated you out of the pity he felt for someone he looked down upon. He only dated you to fuel his ever growing ego. He only dated you because he knew that someone like you would be foolish enough, blinded by his looks to love him.

You were nobody to Monoma Neito and he made it clear through his words. All. The. Time.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks burning the skin that they rolled over. You clenched your fist hard enough to let small crescents form on your hand at the horrid realization that he made you look like a fool.

He made you think that he loved you. He manipulated you, changed you and formed you into someone that he could unleash his insecurities on, devalue you.

“Monoma. Listen, please.” Monoma stopped his dialogue about you with himself and looked your way. A smile adorned his face, his cheeks were tinted a rosey red and his lips looked so soft to the touch. He was breath taking, and a weight felt to your stomach with the words were about to come out of your mouth.

“What is it lovely?”

“I-i can’t anymore Monoma. I-just can’t anymore.” You look at his face and the smile he had became a jacked jaw. “W-what do you mean? Y/n what are you talking about?” His voice was still, but a hint of worry could be heard behind it. You opened your mouth, but clenched your jaw shut, you were through being his little ragdoll. You turned away from him and you felt him snatch your wrist and p;ull you towards him.

“What are you talking about y/n? You can’t wait anymore?” You neglected to answer him. You pull your wrist out of his grasp and hurry down the hall away from his booming voice that bounced off of the walls straight into your ears.

For the rest of the day at school and in class, your phone was vibrating and buzzing. You knew it was him trying to talk to you, to reason with you, trying to make you fall into his hands as putty to play with. The buzzing menstrations of your phone continued with no end in sight, in the back of your mind you felt that he really would change.

That he was ultimately going through a phase, a period where he would be ignorant, neglectful, hurtful, demeaning, but that he would love you. True love.

As the sound of the bell rang in your ears ending the school day, you packed your things quickly and ran to the dorms. As you walked quickly to your dorms you hear his voice in the back of your head ‘Just come back to me. You need me y/n.’ You hit your forehead with the palm of your hand and shook your head; it was worse than you had thought.

Expelling his controlling voice was a challenge, because now alone with out him on your side his words, his hurtful words, seeped through your brain and started to make you feel guilty. Guilty for leaving someone who is so broken, guilty for leaving someone who had a promising future, guilty of leaving some one that loved you. Making you feel guilty for him. Even though he makes YOU feel like trash, even though he made YOU feel small, for making YOU feel weak, for making YOU feel like you weren’t enough.

His words of guilt and hate were filling your brain the more you thought of him. Your head was in pain, throbbing at how horrible he made you feel just to realize that you put this on yourself. By the time you reached your dorm room, your balloon popped. As you closed the door and slid down to the floor. The tears started to flow, you were hyperventilating and with every breath and gasp you were reminded of how you brought this pain upon yourself.

With every breath and every tear that fell onto the floor, and heave of your chest, you hated yourself. You hated that you had changed for him, hated that you shaped yourself to be perfect to him when he wasn’t perfect for himself. You had that you sold yourself hope with hope not even existing with him. Despair. You sold yourself to the devil for the price of despair and you were finally paying it.

Picking yourself off of the floor, you rolled onto your bed and allowed the heated tears flow across your face and into the plush pillow. You planted your face into your pillow and cried even harder; you realized that with all the breaths you took in you were breathing in his smell. His heavy pine spring smell, you look all around your room and saw his shirts, his pants and all of the things that belong to him.

A tired wail lets your lips and you turned over in your bed still crying. What were you going to do?

-- -- -- -- --

You wake up hours later from your crying fit. You couldn’t remember why you were crying and what for but you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. As the bright light lit up your face as you turned it back on you were welcomed with 100+ messages from Monoma, and the feel you felt earlier that day crashed into like a tsunami. You eyes started to water as you reluctantly opened your phone and saw the most recent message it read: “it's 2am, I know that, but I need you…plz answer your phone.” You throw your phone onto your bed and let the tears roll down your cheeks.

In a huff you started to go around your room and pick up all of the things that reeked of Monoma Neito. It hurt to see and feel that you really weren't in a relationship with a genuinely sweet person that you had assumed. As you were going around your room reminiscing on false love, but growing hatred towards Neito you heard a rampant knock on your door.

Your blood ran still, “Who is it?” You started to wipe the tears off of your face hoping that it was a friend but it wasn’t.

“It’s me. Open the door.” You placed both hands over your mouth and fell to the floor. “No.”

“What do you mean no? We need to talk about it earlier today.” His knocking became more frantic. “Come on y/n open the door we need to TALK!” You shakingly tiptoe to the door and check to see if it is locked. It is. Thankfully.

He continued to knock on the door, even harder, “What do you want me to do y/n? Apologize, fine. I’m sorry y/n. I’m sorry please open the door.” You heard his voice soften when a part of you was about to open the door, he truly sounded sorry. But you had to snap yourself out of feeling guilty for him, “N-no Monoma. I can’t anymore. I’m sorry but I can’t go to you anymore you know that. ”

“W-what? A-are you serious. You can’t go to me anymore?” His voice sounded broken but laced with anger. “Are you breaking up with me right now? Are you serious. ARE YOU SERIOUS Y/N?!” His voice boomed through the thin door making you shudder in fear and cover your ears.

“You're leaving me after all we’ve been through, I need you and you're leaving me. Being a hero is hard and I need emotional support and that was you, but no~ you decided to be selfish and leave me for your own benefit. You wanted to suck me dry emotionally and leave me alone throughout the world. You're a monster, a selfish, scheming broad that just wants to have a good looking guy in the palm of your hand. You really are trash for leaving me.”

His words were pitiful, the tears that rolled down your cheeks fell into the cauldron called hate that later turned into anger. You stand up and bang on the door back at him “ Are YOU SERIOUS MONOMA!! You dated me because you knew how in love I was with you and you took that change to manipulate me. I bent my back for you, I changed my look for you, I changed my schedule for you when you wanted to see me more. I CHANGED EVERYTHING FOR YOU. I LOST MYSELF WHILE BEING IN LOVE WITH YOU. YOU DON”T WANT TO ADMIT THAT YOUR SO INSECURE THAT YOU PROJECT IT ONTO OTHERS.”

Through your tears, you took a breath and said “And I was the perfect subject for you to berate with your words and manipulate to make you not feel so bad about how sorry you really are for yourself. Fuck you….Monoma. Don’t speak to me ever again.” You hear him laugh on the other side of the door but he goes quiet, “You’ll regret dumping me, peasant.”

You hear his feet shuffle away on the other side of the door, you get back into bed and lay awake. You cross your hands over your face and cry, ‘He’s probably right. I will regret dumping him, not because I feel bad for him. But the fact that his voice will still ring in my ears pleading for me to take him back.’

Haha....ion like it but do as you will! I did enjoy giving myself the challenge of writing angst. Please enjoy the other pieces too!!

@smittenkitten143

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

The Boss’ Office

Secretary!Joshua x CEO!Female Reader

Word Count: 2958

Contents: teasing, sub svt, slight masturbation, oral (male receiving), face sitting, Joshua being a cocky lil shit, slight begging, unprotected sex

For @shaylee-summerss-stuff we’ve only just gotten to know each other this year but so far I’m loving out budding friendship. You always bring the most wonderful content to the group chat and I end up attacked by Joshua and your’re so kind and caring. I hope you have a wonderful holiday

Your secretary really had to be the cutest man alive. He had such a kind, sweet face, round glasses perched upon his nose and shy smile on his lips. You were sure at this point that every sweater he owned was dorky, and the sweater vests were even moreso. Yet they managed to look so charming on him, when on anyone else you wouldn’t look twice.

What was more amusing though, was how he reacted to you. You knew more than a few of your peers thought he was a bumbling fool. He had a habit of getting tongue tied around you, or tripping over his feet, of dropping papers. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stutter as a blush crept up his cheeks, before he scurried out of the room again. His crush on you was about as adorable as he was.

Besides how cute he was, he did do his job well. He was very polite and pleasant on the phone and seemed to put everyone at ease before transferring the calls to you. He had a good attention to detail, never forgetting something important. And he was reliable. You were glad you could keep him around, though.

Toying with him was too much fun.

You played around with your outfits, he noticed everything. He noticed when your new dress fit you a little more tightly. He noticed when you wore a different lip colour. What really made him stare was days like today, when your blouse had just a few more buttons undone, and your pencil skirt hugged your hips and ass tightly, your hair up off your neck in an updo that took much more time than it appeared to. It was days like today that your outfit had Joshua shifting in his seat and blushing anytime you called him into your office.

As the day wore near its end you toyed with a folder, one you’d had hidden in your desk. One with pictures of you that you knew would get his head spinning. A smirk curled at your lips as you set it on the desk, slipping one picture out just a bit, just enough to tempt him to look. Recently he’d started to meet your sweet and slightly flirtatious comments with clumsy flirting of his own. It was awkward but it only enticed you more.

“Joshua,” you called through the intercom to his desk. “Come in here for a minute.”

You waited, readjusting the folder a little and then placing your hands on your desk. A few moments later Joshua hurried into the room. He tripped over his feet a little, stopping just before the desk and dropping his head, playing with the hem of his sweater.

“There you are, sweetie,” you grinned. You saw a shy smile tug at the corner of his plush lips.

“I-I got in here as quickly as I could,” you could hear some of the nerves in his voice. “It’s always a treat to see you.”

Your grin became more apparent as you beckoned him closer and motioned to the chair across from your seat. Joshua had been getting slowly more and more bold and you wanted to know if he would let his curiosity get the better of him.

And what he would do about it.

“Oh shoot, you know what, I forgot I had something quick to attend to,” you smiled. “You don’t mind waiting a few moments for me, do you?”

“N-Not at all,” he stammered.

“Perfect, thank you sweetie.” You trailed your fingers along the desk as you walked your way around it, swaying your hips just a little more as you made your way out of the room.

The difficult part of course was giving him enough time. You knew he would notice the folder right away but you needed just enough time for him to see it. You managed to wrap yourself up for a few moments, freshening up in your bathroom. You wandered through the floor and past a few offices as the seconds ticked past. Six minutes though and you couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer.

You knew you would look absolutely ridiculous if anyone else came down the hallway. You were sneaking on your tiptoes, careful to make sure the heels of your shoes didn’t hit the ground and make a noise. If he was looking through the pictures you didn’t want to disturb him until you opened the door. Of course, he could have resisted, you were sure if he did you would be met with a smug smirk and almost flirty comment as he left. You turned the handle very slowly before opening the door to be greeted with a scene that had heat rushing to your core.

Joshua sat in the chair, leaning over the desk and pouring over the pictures. He’d spread them out so he could see each one. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and you were sure you could hear his small whines and whimpers as he palmed himself through his pants hurriedly.

“Are you enjoying those?” you smirked, letting the office door swing shut behind you.

Joshua gave you a look of surprise, a blush rising in his cheeks before he frantically tried to put all the pictures back into the folder.

“I-I-I’m sorry I didn’t- th-they were just there- I-I sh-shouldn’t…” his words died out as you laughed, settling for trying to cover the very obvious bulge in his pants.

“You didn’t answer my question, sweetie,” you hummed, moving in front of him. You leaned on the arms of the chair and he pressed back into the chair, his eyes flicking down towards your chest. “Did you enjoy them?”

“Y-Yes ma’am,” he breathed.

You let your hand trail up his arm and over his shoulder before digging it into the hairs at the back of his head and tugging. Joshua gasped as his gaze met yours again.

“I prefer mistress,” you purred.

“O-Okay,” he answered and you tugged his hair sharply. “Y-Yes mistress.”

“You’re a quick learner, sweetie,” you murmured, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Joshua returned your kisses eagerly. His lips moved desperately against yours, though his hands stayed pinned to the chair. You were quick to deepen the kiss and Joshua was all too eager to let your tongue into his mouth, exchanging open mouthed kisses with you, small whines barely making it out. 

You let one hand rest on his thigh, squeezing it between kisses and smirking as he shifted his hips in anticipation. You let your hand slide up his thigh a little before stopping again, relishing the way he moved impatiently. Your fingers kneaded and squeezed his thigh slowly as he let out quiet pants into your kisses, until you finally moved your hand into his lap, palming him through his pants.

Joshua fell back from you with a high whine, rocking his hips up into your hand. You took in the way he look, eyes slid shut from the feeling, hair falling gently into his face, and gorgeous, plush lips parting in quiet moans. The sight had arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach as your brain started to spin up the image of how he might look when he came.

Joshua whined as you pulled your hand away, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. He quickly grew more flustered as you slowly undid you blouse, his eyes trailing down and taking in the way your chest looked, wrapped in lacy lingerie. His hands gripped the chair a little tighter as he brought his gaze back to meet yours.

“W-What are y-you-”

“What do you want, sweetheart?” you asked firmly.

“I-I-I u-uh…” He was cute when he stammered.

“Use your words,” you purred. “Those pants are looking awfully tight.”

“C-Can you suck me off?” You didn’t even have a chance to grab his hair before he corrected himself. “M-Mistress, would you please suck me off?”

A grin spread across your lips. “Of course, sweetie, but don’t mess that up again.” You sunk to your knees, loving the way he started to pant just from the sight. “And don’t cum until you’re told.”

He nodded quickly, lifting his hips as you undid his pants and pulled them off. He followed your instructions to pull off his sweater, leaving him in a t-shirt. He bit down on his lip as you pulled his hips towards the edge of the chair, admiring his cock, standing hard against his stomach, the tip red and leaking precum. You very gently wrapped your hand around the base, earning a whimper from him.

You looked up at him and held his gaze as you dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock. A beautiful, whiny moan fell from his lips as you teased his tip, running your tongue around it slowly. Joshua struggled to keep his hips still as you teased him, his knuckles already white holding onto the chair.

“Remember, sweetheart,” you murmured. “Don’t cum until you’re told.”

“Y-Yes mistress,” he breathed, his voice quickly dissolving into a moan as you took him into your mouth.

You set a quick pace, bobbing on his cock and hollowing your cheeks. Joshua struggled to keep his head up, trying to keep his eyes on you. His cheeks were flushed a pretty red and his eyes heavily lidded, obviously flustered but desperately wanting to keep his eyes on the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock. You moved your hand in time with your mouth, twisting it just a bit and eliciting a gorgeous moan from his lips.

You let your free hand move to your chest, teasing your nipple through your bra, and moaning around his cock.

“Oh god,” he moaned, his head falling back. “P-Please, mistress, please d-do that again.”

You played with yourself, giving into the moans that rose in your throat. Each vibration wrapping around Joshua’s cock and drawing moans from his lips. He struggled to keep his hips still as his moans climbed higher and higher in his voice. Babbles started to fall from his lips just before you relaxed your throat and took as much of him as you possibly could.

His orgasm took you both by surprise as his hot cum ran down your throat. Despite his disobedience, the sight of his face made you groan, an expression of pure bliss etched across it as pretty moans fell from his perfect lips.

It was something you definitely wanted to see again.

Your face took on an expression of disapproval as you pulled back off his cock, gently wiping the cum from the corner of your mouth. Joshua’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at you with a nervous expression.

“I-I didn’t m-mea-”

“Take off you shirt,” you instructed, standing slowly. “And get on the desk.”

“Yes mistress,” he said quickly, scrambling onto the large desk and laying on his back, his gaze following you. You undid the zipper on your skirt, letting it fall to the floor and smirking at the way he took in your appearance almost shyly. You let your panties fall off with a smirk before climbing onto the desk and straddling his chest.

“You weren’t supposed to cum so quickly, sweetheart,” you hummed, playing with his hair. “I think you should make it up to me.”

He nodded, holding your gaze.

“If you make me cum,” you grinned. “I might just reward you.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he let his hands grip your thighs, far more firmly than you expected, as you moved over his face. There was a glint in his eye, almost mischievous, as he guided you down onto his face.

His tongue dragged long strokes through your folds and you gripped at his hair, already bracing yourself on the desk with your other hand. He groaned at the taste of you, bringing his tongue to circle your clit quickly. It didn’t take him long to figure out exactly what motion made your thighs start to tremble around him and you were sure he was smirking at you from the look in his eyes.

You managed breathy words as he alternated between passing his tongue over your clit quickly and sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. “You’ve done this before.”

His words were muffled as he pulled his lips from your clit. “Did you think that I hadn’t, mistress?”

You didn’t have the time to formulate an answer as his tongue plunged into your heat. You let out a gasp as pleasure rushed up your spine from the feeling. His tongue moved in you, subtly changing speeds until you were grinding on his face, chasing the sensation. He tugged you closer and you gasped as his tongue plunged deeper.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, every time you managed to look down at him the heated gaze he met you with had you clenching. He moaned sweetly against your core, the vibrations sending tendrils of pleasure curling through you. Breathy moans fell from your lips as he started to curl his tongue.

You cried out as he curled his tongue into just the right spot. He pulled you down flush against his face, letting you overwhelm his every sense. You thighs started to shake as he moved his tongue quickly, curling and plunging it against your sweet spot over and over as you gripped his hair more tightly. His fingers dug into your thighs sharply as pleasure coursed through you.

You came with a moan and a string of curses, your legs shaking and waves of euphoria rushing through your body as you rode his tongue through your orgasm. Joshua eagerly lapped up your release until you were gasping and pulled yourself away from his lips. He grinned at you as he rested on his chest.

“Was that too much for you, mistress?” he teased.

A smirk curled your lips. “Not in the slightest, sweetheart.”

You moved to straddle his hips before he could pull you back onto his face. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him quickly and teasing the sensitive underside and he let out a whiny moan. You watched the dominance in his gaze slowly melt away as you teased him, moving just slower than he needed you to go. You held his hips down with your other hand as he tried to chase the sensation and he whined.

“Please,” he moaned.

“Please what, sweetheart?” you teased.

“Please fuck me, mistress.”

You gave him a satisfied smirk, pulling off your bra before aligning yourself with him and slowly sinking down on his cock. You held in your moan, only letting out a low hum at the feeling as Joshua moaned out sweetly. You braced yourself on his chest as you started to grind into him, rolling your hips and watching his back arch up off the desk. His hands found your hips, trying and failing to get you to move faster.

“You gave into me so easily, sweetheart,” you murmured. “What happened to that dominance?”

Joshua whimpered in response, giving you a sweet pleading stare that had you biting down on your lip.

“Come on, sweetie, I want an answer. Otherwise I can grind slow like this all day.”

“I was being cocky, mistress,” he whined. “I’m sorry, but please.”

“I don’t know if you even deserve to be fucked the way you want,” you mused.

“P-Please,” his voice was only growing whinier. “Please I’ll be good, I won’t cum until you tell me j-just please fuck me harder, mistress.”

Joshua let out a moan as you clenched around him, his begging only turning you one more. You let your lips curl into a smirk.

“Since you begged for it.”

You lifted your hips up quickly before coming down hard on his cock. Joshua threw his head back, letting out a choked moan as his fingers dug into your hips. Your pace was quick and rough as your mind became focused on reaching your high again. With each movement of your hips, his cock filled your heat, sending wave after wave of pleasure rushing through your body.

The coil in the pit of your stomach started to tighten again, helped along with the sounds of Joshua’s moans. He cried out each time your hips came down to meet his, moving his own hips sloppily up towards yours. His thighs were trembling and in between moans he babbled, trying to find the words he needed while his head spun.

You moved your hips as fast as you could, your voice coming out breathy. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“C-C-Cum- c-can…” he babbled, trying to form a sentence. You brought two fingers to your clit, pressing them against it and holding them still.

“Come on,” you teased. 

“M-Mistress, c-can I c-c-cum, p-p…”

“Cum for me, sweetie.”

You moved your fingers in quick circles over your clit, clenching down around him. Joshua screamed out, bucking his hips up into your roughly as he came hard, thick ropes of cum releasing deep inside you.

The feeling sent you over the edge, legs shaking as you moaned out and ground down on his cock as you released. Waves of pure ecstasy rocked through your body as you collapsed onto his chest, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

You both panted as you started to come down from your highs. He let his arms wrap around you gently and the soft gesture made you smile.

“Holy moly,” he breathed.

You snorted at his response. “You really are too cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbled. “D-Does that mean we can do this again?”

“That means we’re definitely going to do this again.”