#everything after comes out of my pto

[curryalley]

Reason #968 why I hate the American healthcare system:

Doctor's office two hours before my appointment: texts a reminder how to check in

Me: arrives on time for appointment via Uber

Office: We're sorry, your appointment has been canceled. Your test administrator went home sick. We tried to call. We can reschedule you.

Me: has no texts and no voicemails

Scheduling assistant who took me into her office: Sorry, we tried to call. They're out of glue to attach the electrodes to you for your test.

Me: 0.0

Scheduler: When would you like to come back?

Me: I have a different test next week, can we just do them both that day? I already have it off from work.

Scheduler: Insurance does not allow you to have two appointments on the same day. So no.

[terrorbirb]

Monday my coworker cleared his throat on me when talking to me for 3 minutes, and I immediately put on a mask, disinfected and moved everything I had to the conference room because he obviously had something. I also immediately told my boss who "was wondering if he should send him home". All of that, but apparently that was enough to get me sick.

Here's the thing, and I know this isn't how it works, I got it from a coworker at work and did EVERYTHING in my power to not get it so i could continue work, so I should get my sick days paid even though I don't have any more PTO. I'm still going to work with a mask on in the warehouse because I, specifically, am needed to complete physical inventory which is incredibly important, but I had to go home at 3pm because I was on the verge of fainting. If I cannot complete these last 2 weeks of work, my company will fall apart, which is why I gave a 5 week notice instead of 2 and delayed starting my new job. I know "fuck this company", but I have enough pride to not want things to be worse than they already are because I Built This Place. I want all the systems I designed to work.

Tldr if a coworker got me sick because my boss didn't send him home when he knew he should, and I took measures to limit my exposure right after being exposed, then I should get my sick hours paid.

[meow-xine]

Ohhh I am so obsessed with him 😫

Shota Aizawa x Fem reader

Cw: smut, some plot… oral (F! receiving)

Background: Aizawa is your husband but you haven’t seen him in WEEKS due to him being caught up in work.

Shota has just been so busy as of late. Truth be told, with the two of you sharing so many aspectual responsibilities – many stemming from Shota’s job, you had felt a strain on your relationship. Shota rarely had time for you anymore, him spending more time now than ever at work, trying to make sense of villain attacks and dorms. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks, the only interaction being a text or a late night call. Of course you kept yourself busy, going to work during the day then occupying yourself with small things around the house; cleaning, crafts. No matter how much you distracted yourself though, there was no way to stop the yearning for your husband. You knew it was necessary, and you would in no way ever try to stop him from doing what he needed to, but you just wish he could take one day off. Life just hadn’t been the same.

“I just miss you so much.” you sobbed into the phone resting next to you, laying down curled over a pillow. This had become a sort of routine, Shota calling you up later than he should, knowing that you would be awake and expecting to hear from him. “I know, I miss you too. It’s.. it’s just been so complicated trying to balance everything. Know that if I could come home to you I would.” He sighed. It wasn’t much easier on him, and you knew that. You often found yourself getting off the phone feeling more guilty than anything. He had a lot on his plate, and you were sure your complaining wasn’t of much help. There was just something about the late night that seeped into your words, taking control and slurring your speech. You weren’t used to staying up so late.

“I’m sorry baby.. I just don’t feel good without you here. It’s too quiet and dull.” you continued your earlier recurring thought. Silence interrupted by your small hiccups filled the air. It was stagnant and dense, but not uncomfortable. “You know it breaks my heart to hear you like that honey.” He interrupted the silence, followed by a sigh. “I’ll do what I can to see you as soon as possible.” he continued. “You promise?” “I promise. Now get some sleep love, it’s late.” And with that you hung up and fell asleep, remaining in the same curled position. 

That was two weeks ago, and since then you had been carefully watching the news reports and attacks against both Shota and his students. It was scary stuff and you constantly had to remind yourself that he would be okay– that they would all be okay. Even with reminders though, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and out of control, sometimes forgetting to breathe until Shota got a break on TV. You followed up with texts and phone calls afterwards too, needing more than just a digital image showing he was safe. 

Finally, amongst the sea of phone calls you had gotten, it was your husband.

“[Name]? Baby?” it was Shota, he sounded happier than he had in a while and you swore you could feel his smile through the phone. “Hi Sho, I’m here. How are things going?” you smiled too, not being able to contain yourself after hearing him. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Things are going good, especially today. I rarely ever take time off work so it was pointed out that I am long overdue for some PTO.” “Oh yay! Do you know when exactly you might be getting some days?” You stood up from the couch you were sitting on in your shared home. “Well…” He started, but before he could finish his sentence the doorbell rang. “Oh, I’m sorry, give me one moment, someone’s at the door..” He chuckled, “Sure.”

You made your way to the door making sure to hold your phone to your chest before answering. Upon opening the door, the phone in your hand was long forgotten, falling to the floor. It was Shota on the other side, lazily holding his phone to his ear. He hung up and opened his arms, allowing you to run into them.

“You’re here! Oh I’ve missed you so much.. I wish you would have told me you were coming ,I would have worn something nicer.” You rambled feeling embarrassed for just wearing one of his shirts and PJ shorts. Not leaving enough time for you to finish a thought, Shota wrapped his arms around you, one snaking around your waist and the other rubbing your back. “Hi baby..” 

You released yourself from his embrace, taking a moment to look at his face and notice the small differences. He looked tired and weary, no thanks to the battles he had endured. Despite everything, it was still your Shota standing in front of you. Your eyes moved down to his lips and before you could think you were all over them. You pulled back, apologizing, “Oh! Sorry,” you knelt down to pick up some of his bags, “let’s let you get settled in first.” 

The two of you carried his bags to your bedroom, placing them on the floor. Before Shota made an effort to unpack, he walked over to you and brought you in for another hug, this one tighter than the last. One of his hands was wrapped warmly against your head, bringing you closer to his chest. You inhaled, making a mental note to lock his sweet musk scent away for when he inevitably had to leave again. “I missed you so much baby, you have no idea.” he spoke, his voice soft and gravelly. 

You loosely pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, one of your hands holding his cheek and his hands still lingering low around your waist. “I missed you too Sho. It felt impossible without you here. I’m just so happy you’re okay.” He smiled down at you and planted a small kiss on your lips. He deepened the kiss, disentangling your entire being yet somehow making you feel more full than you ever had all at once. His hand was now placed against the nape of your neck, all the while slowly backing you up into the nearest wall. 

Once you felt your back touch the wall you couldn’t help but break free of the kiss and gasp, being too entranced to notice the position you were in until now. Shota wasted no time in returning to the kiss, using the hand on your neck to bring you closer to him. The two of you melted into the kiss, a mix of small groans and whines left Shota’s mouth as he lost himself in you. He broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to look at you beneath his frame before speaking, “Baby I need you right now..” he groaned, searching for approval in your eyes. You displayed agreement through a nod and took a step forward. Shota, before beginning to take off your clothes, gently let his hands run across your body longer than he needed to. It had been so long since he had been able to feel your skin underneath him, he wanted to savor it. 

He took off your shirt, admiring what was underneath as he lifted it above your head. Once he discarded it to the side, he worked on removing your bra. You were now completely bare from the waist up and your dark haired husband couldn’t help but stare. “Oh I’ve missed you so much.” He lowered his earlier kisses down to the side of your neck, bending his knees as he moved down to kiss your exposed breasts, one hand massaging the other as he worked. You let out soft moans, the pleasure slowly surging through you. It was more intense than usual, it had felt like eons since you had been touched by him, yet it seemed he still knew exactly how to please you. 

‘C’mere baby,” he led you to your shared bed, sitting you on the edge. You were almost laying down, your elbows propped up stopping you from doing so. Shota got down to his knees in front of you, sliding his hands on either side of your thighs and he slid your shorts off, your panties being the only remaining article. Upon seeing your wetness seeping through the cloth, Shota chuckled  “Awh baby, you’re soaked.” He looked up at you with lust clouded eyes. “Let me touch you, please love.” It took you a moment to fully process and respond to him, you were far too distracted by the sight of your usually dominant husband kneeling before you, so undone. “Yes-yeah, of course you can.” you responded after far too long of a pause. 

He returned one of his hands to its earlier position, slid against your thigh only now massaging you slowly. His other hand moved up slowly to your clothed pussy and you gasped when you felt him touch you. He used his hands to spread your legs open and teased small traces along your inner thighs, moving his face closer. You shivered as you felt the warmth of his breath close in. He planted a trail of the most gentle kisses up your thighs, pausing once he got just close enough to make you antsy. You whimpered, “please Sho..need you..”

“You know I can’t say no when you ask like that.” he smirked, then slid your panties off, gliding a finger down your slit. He inched his face closer, attaching his mouth to your clit after a few small licks. The wave of pleasure crashed down on you all at once, “Oh Sho…” you moved your hands to grab his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Once his gentle demeanor faded, he was devouring you like a madman, groaning and mumbling into your arousal. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this..” he lazily groused, slipping two fingers into you. He curled them up into you, the sheer amount of unfamiliar pleasure was almost overstimulating.

Your grip on his hair tightened, indicating he must have been doing something right. He paused to look up at you, “Yeah? You like that? ‘Course you do..” he trailed off, his mouth finding you again. Your nerves heated your entire body, that combined with the growing knot in your belly was enough to push you over the edge. You bucked your hips, now riding his fingers more than anything. He pulled his face up to look at you again. “Oh baby you look so pretty coming undone f’me right now.” his fingers sped up reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. “So pretty.”

“I’m- fuck.. M’ so close Sho..” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Rolling your hips at the same speed his fingers were fucking you, you couldn’t help but toss your head back in satisfaction, your release smashing against you. “That’s it baby.. good girl..” Shota spoke, his fingers never once slowing until you were worn out. You whined due to the absence that filled you as he removed his digits. 

He stood up, looming over your relaxed frame. He knelt down to kiss your forehead, grabbing one of your hands to help you sit upright. “You did so good baby.. So good.” He sat next to you, stroking your hair. “Oh I love you Shota, so much.” you whined into him. ”I love you too [Name].” He smiled, honestly not wanting to get up. “Now let's get you cleaned up, it’s late.”

“What about you though? I feel bad not returning anything..” You said, feeling a mix of pleasure and guilt all in one go. “Don’t worry about me, we have plenty of time.” Shota responded. He walked to the bathroom, starting a hot bath with a mix of calming oils; then returned to you and brought you to the tub.

The two of you were slipped in you got comfortable in the middle of his legs, your back resting against his chest. “I love you Shota.” you closed your eyes, feeling relaxed enough to go to sleep right in the tub.

He wrapped his arms around your torso. “I love you too, [Name].”

[highvern]

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives. 

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?” 

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.” 

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary. 

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand 

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :) 

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s. 

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.” 

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically. 

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?” 

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time. 

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.” 

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?” 

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.” 

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?” 

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again. 

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect. 

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company. 

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.” 

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them. 

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter. 

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television. 

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body. 

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation. 

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again. 

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel. 

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between.. 

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm. 

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure. 

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in. 

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it. 

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge. 

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your  underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again. 

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover. 

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered. 

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough. 

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence. 

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine. 

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut. 

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing. 

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight. 

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing. 

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day. 

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door. 

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live. 

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat. 

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.” 

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior  drowsiness transforms into irritation. 

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

 It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy. 

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man. 

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.” 

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.” 

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra. 

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head. 

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came. 

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair. 

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago. 

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway. 

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet. 

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently. 

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.” 

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes. 

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy. 

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch. 

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up. 

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you. 

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” 

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath. 

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones. 

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back. 

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt. 

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions. 

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want. 

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place. 

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action. 

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start. 

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate. 

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls. 

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?” 

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples. 

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue. 

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own. 

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half. 

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper. 

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance. 

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught. 

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again. 

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you. 

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips. 

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” 

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing. 

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.” 

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy. 

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole. 

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant. 

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care. 

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[scoonsalicious]

Your Choice

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice.

Warnings: Language, because I have a foul mouth, explicit smut (unprotected PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering), mentions of drug manufacturing/possession/use, little bit 'o' bondage, implied dubcon, implied infidelity, implied abuse of police authority (honestly, read the whole thing through before coming at me for warnings, okay? I promise it'll make sense), bad cop jokes/puns/innuendos. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Inspired by actual events! And by that, I just mean the part where someone called the cops and told them I was cooking crack in my kitchen. Literally everything else is a figment of my imagination, alas! Special thanks to bestie @jmeelee for suggesting I take that awkward encounter and turn it into something to benefit all of mankind, and for giving me a title. The Cheesecake Factory is going to start forbidding us entry with the way we talk in there.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

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You put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down at the kitchen table to start grading your students’ papers. You’d been hoping to get through as many as possible before your husband came home from work, but with the number of corrections you were having to make on these assignments, you’d be lucky if you got a quarter of them done before then. It was disheartening. Distance learning during Covid really hadn’t done the public education system any favors and you felt like you’d been playing catch-up for years now.

When the kettle eventually boiled, you pulled yourself away from your grading to make yourself a cup of tea. You had just settled back down with your steaming mug when you heard an incessant pounding at the front door, startling you. You briefly considered not answering— you weren’t expecting anyone, and besides, who showed up unannounced at someone’s door anymore?

Serial killers, that’s who.

But the knocking continued, relentless and heavy. After a few seconds, you heard a gruff voice call “Police. Open up!”

“What the hell?” you asked yourself, putting down the tea mug and making your way through the living room to the front door.

Peering behind the curtain on the front door window, you could make out the figure of a uniformed officer standing on your front porch. He was illuminated from behind by the streetlight, leaving only his outline visible to you. 

Narrowing your eyes in confusion and concern, you turned on the porch light, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Can I help you, officer?” you asked cautiously. 

The man tipped the brim of his hat up, and you were met with a bright pair of blue eyes that glimmered with more than a hint of mischief. 

“It’s actually Sergeant, ma’am,” the man said to you as he tipped his hat and offered you a wicked grin. You breathed a sigh of relief-- you knew him. Of course you did. Your small town didn’t have much in the way of local law enforcement, and James Barnes, or ‘Bucky,’ as most folks called him, was a specimen to be revered. Ridiculously handsome, tall and broad, he was built entirely of muscle as he towered over you from the doorway. He was a favorite among the local female population, often being specifically requested to provide police presence at PTO functions and Ladies’ Auxiliary events. Despite the gold ring he wore on his left hand, the women of the town were drawn to him like flies to a corpse, much to the frustration of his poor wife.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” you amended, with a touch of sarcasm in your voice as you offered him a smirk back, though you were still confused by his presence. 

“Well, ma’am, seems like we got a call reporting suspicious activity at this address,” he drawled, leaning now on your door jam, fingers hooking in his belt loops.

“Here?” you asked, surprise coloring your tone. “Are you being serious with me right now, Bucky?”

“That’s Sergeant Barnes to you, ma’am,” he responded nonchalantly. Oh, so he was playing it like that, then? Good to know. “Got a tip that someone’s been cooking meth in your kitchen. ‘m here to check it out.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Meth?! That’s a new one!” You’d had some of your students call in pranks on you in the past, but this was an extreme.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid meth is no laughing matter,” the sergeant said in all seriousness. The look in his eyes immediately shut down any trace of humor you felt as you stared back at him. “The manufacture of illegal drugs is a very serious crime. I’d like to come inside and take a look, if you don’t mind.”

You pursed your lips. You remembered something your husband had discussed with you, and decided you weren’t going to make this easy for him. “Do you have a warrant?” you asked defiantly.

Sergeant Barnes sighed heavily and rubbed his dark stubble with the palm of his hand. “Ma’am, I’ve had a long shift. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Now, either you can let me inside, or you can come down and answer questions at the station. It’s up to you.”

It wasn’t an option, not really. “Come on in, then,” you told him, moving aside so he could enter. He walked through the door, his meaty arm grazing against the side of your breast as he did so, and you involuntarily shuddered at the sensation. You knew he noticed when you caught him smirking at you again.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you murmured, somewhat breathlessly, as you led him back through the house to the room in question. He followed silently behind you, his footfalls heavy and sure.

Once in the kitchen, Sergeant Barnes began looking around. It was obvious you weren’t in the middle of a meth lab. You were a high school English teacher, for god’s sake! You weren’t quite sure what game the sergeant was playing at, but you had no doubt he’d make his intentions known in good time.

After glancing around, he eventually said “Well, I can see there’s no meth setup here. Guess it was a false alarm.” You shot him a glare as if to say no shit, but he walked to the cabinet holding your glassware and opened it. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out a bong and a container of marijuana. “Now, I know next state over might have given the go ahead for this stuff, but in this state, recreational use of the Devil’s Lettuce is still illegal, darlin’. Mighty bad look for a school teacher to have it on hand, don’t ya think?”

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “That’s my husband’s,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you just conducted an illegal search and seizure there, sarge.”

He put the bong down on the counter with a heavy clink and turned to face you, his face impassive and voice stern. “Now, seems to me someone’s got a problem with authority, darlin’. I don’t appreciate you talkin’ back to an officer of the law like that. Might need to teach you some manners.”

You swallowed thickly, finally having an idea of where the sergeant was going with his little drop-in and felt a frisson run through your body that left you trembling. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t seen it coming. There’d been talk, after all.

“Now,” he continued as he slowly made his way across the kitchen toward you, “as I see it, we got ourselves two options here. One: you can come down with me to the station and we can book your pretty little ass on possession charges, which is gonna take hours and require a hell of a lotta paperwork.” He was standing directly in front of you now, leaving just inches between your bodies. You sucked in a breath, the nearness of him making you dizzy. “Or two, I can get you off with a warning. Still might take hours, but at least we can both have ourselves a good time. Your choice, darlin.”

You took a step back, pressing yourself against the edge of the counter in an attempt to put some space between you. “I think you mean ‘let’ me off with a warning, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, your words coming out in an exhale.

You gasped as his hand came down to cup you between your legs and gently squeeze your mound through the fabric off your jeans. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I meant what I said, darlin’. But you gotta prove you’re gonna be a good, respectful girl, first, so why don’t you get down on your knees and show me how you obey the law?”

Your eyes widened at his command, unsure how to proceed. Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes was impatient– he took both his hands and put them on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you down until you were kneeling in front of him, the large bulge in his trousers staring you straight in the face. 

“Best get to work, darlin,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening as you slowly brought your shaking hands up to his waist. With trembling fingers, you unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His massive erection was straining the fabric of his gray boxer-briefs, leaving a dark wet stain where the tip rested against the cloth, evidence of his arousal already making itself known.

Moving as though afraid of spooking a scared animal, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down to just above his knees and setting his cock free to bounce up against his lower stomach. 

God, but he was big. If the women in town had any idea that he was packing so much more than just his gun, they’d never give him a moment of peace. You traced a finger along the vein at the base of his member, trailing it up his length to the weeping red tip. Coating yourself in his pre-cum, you used his essence as lubrication as you began working him with your hand. 

“Not that this doesn’t feel good, but what did I say about sucking it, darlin’?” Sergeant Barnes asked through a grunt as you pumped him. 

“I’ll get to it,” you told him, a hint of irritation in your voice. He had a lot of nerve making demands of you at a time like this. 

You felt his hand come and roughly grab you by the chin, jerking your head up to make you look him in the eye. “You got the right to remain silent, Sweetheart. I’m gonna be a gentleman and suggest you use it. Find another purpose for that pretty mouth of yours.” He took his hand away with a wink.

You licked your lips as your eyes took him in. Leaning your head down into him, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the underside of his cock.

“Good girl,” he moaned as your tongue circled his tip. “Keep it up. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good with that sassy mouth of yours.” You took him into your mouth a little bit at a time, teasing him as one hand worked his base and the other cupped his balls.

You weren't a woman who liked to be told what to do, but the dominance in his voice made you shudder, an involuntary thrill skittering down your spine. He felt intoxicating, dangerous and you had the feeling you were in way over your head.

“Mmm,” he grunted as you swirled your tongue around the swell of his head before deciding to take him in deeper. You relaxed your throat and backed off only when you felt his length bump against it.

"Jesus, darlin', where'd you learn that?" he asked breathlessly. His hands moved to cup your face as you moved rhythmically along his length, setting your own pace. He was blissfully lost in the sensation.

But then, Sergeant Barnes wasn’t one to give up control so easily, either. “Stop teasing,” he huffed out before threading his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly, a clear sign that he wanted more.

You didn’t hesitate to oblige, taking him deep in your mouth until you heard him groan in pleasure above you. His grip on your hair tightened as he took over guiding your movement, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth until he was fucking your face with abandon. The taste of him was overpowering, salty and bitter, making your cheeks flush with heat as you struggled to accommodate his size, tears running down your cheeks and drool pooling from the corners of your mouth.

"I knew you had it in you," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper now as he lost himself in the waves of pleasure you were giving him. You looked up to see his eyes closed tight, his lips parted when ragged breaths escaped his chest that was heaving like a wild beast caught in a trap.

He was close, you could tell from the way his body squirmed and the throbbing of his hardness against your tongue. There was an urgency in his ragged breathing and the racing pulse beneath his skin that echoed through your core. But he wasn’t going to finish yet. Not if Sergeant Barnes had anything to say about it.

A sudden force yanked you back by the hair, tearing your mouth away from him. You let out a surprised yelp, wiping away the excess saliva that clung to your lips.

“Upstairs,” he ordered gruffly, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He tucked himself free of your grasp and rearranged his uniform as he stepped back, giving you space to rise from your knees.

You smiled and nodded, your head hazy with desire as you passed him and led the way to the narrow back staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He followed closely behind, his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floors in a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You felt his gaze on your swaying hips with each step you climbed, a soft growl echoing from behind you that sent shivers down your spine.

You led him to your bedroom, a quaint space painted in soft hues with sheer white curtains rustling gently from the light breeze of the warm spring night. The unmade bed serving as a reminder of love you and your husband had made just that morning staring you right in the face.

“‘m afraid I’m gonna have to search you now, Sweetheart. Strip,” he ordered, his voice gruff with desire as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother with niceties or romance – this wasn’t about that. This was about raw, primal need.

Your trembling hands reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, revealing the delicate lace bralette underneath. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, encouraging you as you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them daintily.

“Turn around,” he said next, and you complied without question. You heard him suck in a breath behind you as you shimmied out of your underwear, revealing the round shape of your backside to him under the dim light.

“Jesus,” he whispered, the raw desire in his voice making your heart flutter. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He walked up to you, the rough fabric of his uniform trousers brushing against your exposed skin making you whimper. His fingers traced your spine, gliding all the way down to the small of your back, causing goosebumps to break out all over your body. “Now, you remember your traffic laws, don’t ya, darlin’? You remember how stoplights work?” 

You nodded, knowing instinctively he was referring to safe words– Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Put your hands behind your back.”

You complied and felt the cold metal of his cuffs clink around your wrists, locking them into place. You were now fully at his mercy.

He cupped your buttocks in both hands, kneading them gently while his lips found the nape of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he left a trail of kisses there. “Color?” he asked inbetween presses of his lips.

“Green, Sergeant,” you hummed. You could feel him growing harder against you, the enormous length of him pressing against your ass making you squeal and squirm in anticipation. His groan echoed in your ears as he held onto you tighter.

“Gonna need ya to spread for me, Sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky. Your heart pounded in your chest as you did what he asked, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart gently until you were open and exposed to him.

He let out a low whistle behind you, his fingers tracing lightly over your intimate folds. "You're soaking wet," he murmured, sounding almost awestruck. You flushed at his words, feeling a fresh wave of desire pulse through your body at his touch.

His fingers suddenly abandoned you, only to return dripping with warm slickness. He wasted no time in teasing your entrance, slipping his finger inside you and drawing out a moan that echoed through the room.

“You like that don’t ya?” he asked, his voice alluringly low as he curled his finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation, trying to push back against him for more.

“Patience, Sweetheart," he whispered against your earlobe before nibbling on it lightly. He slid another finger inside you, curling and stretching in a way that had you gasping for breath. "You're so tight," he groaned out, appreciating the way your walls clenched around his digits.

“Please…” you whimpered out, the anticipation making your body shake as you pleaded for more. “Please, Sergeant. I need more.” Your legs were wobbly, and with your arms trapped behind your back, you were finding it hard to keep your balance, but you wanted more of him.

He chuckled darkly at your plea, rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Each touch was expertly measured, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, keeping you precariously balanced between pleasure and desperation.

“I’m doing this my way,” he grunted, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. You cried out, your vision blurred as the coil inside you tightened threateningly. You were so close but he wouldn’t let you fall, each moment bringing a new wave of frustration and desire.

Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, he withdrew his fingers leaving you gasping at the sudden loss.

"Get on the bed," Sergeant Barnes ordered, standing tall in front of you; his arousal painfully obvious. “Face down.” You moved to accommodate him, getting on your knees and laying your face down on the mattress, hands still pinned behind your back.

The sound of his utility belt hitting the floor filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he stripped himself free of his uniform.

You squirmed on the bed, desperate for his touch but unable to see anything with your back to him. The anticipation was unbearable, each passing second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to resume his ministrations.

He moved behind you again, his bare, warm skin against yours making you whimper in anticipation. "Breathe," he commanded simply, and you did, inhaling a shaky breath before exhaling slowly.

And then without warning he was inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust that had you screaming out, the stinging stretch quickly morphing from painful to something far sweeter. He grunted at the intrusion, pulling back slightly only to thrust back in again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving too much as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind.

Each thrust had you crying out in wanton pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered his name like a sacred prayer, the cool metal of the handcuffs biting into your wrists as you tried to brace yourself against his forceful movements. 

He didn't slow down, didn't pause, just kept moving inside you with a single-minded focus that had you spiraling. His pace was unrelenting, his stamina seemingly endless. His fingers clutched at your hips in a bruising grip, holding you steady as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.

You felt him shift slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting a spot inside of you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. “Please…” your plea was cut off by a gasp as he hit that same spot again, driving you closer to the edge.

But he didn’t stop there; instead he leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as one hand slid underneath your bodies, finding your clit with unerring precision. He started rubbing it in tight circles, adding a whole new layer to your pleasure.

Every new thrust of his hips sent him deeper within you, each stroke of his fingers on your clit became more intense. You were a writhing mess beneath him, completely lost in the ecstasy he was giving you.

"Bucky," you cried out, forgetting to use his title this time, your voice hoarse from screaming, your body trembling on the brink of release. This wasn’t a game anymore.

"I know," he growled in your ear, his voice low and guttural. "I can feel how close you are, doll. Just let go."

And you did. The moment his lips closed around the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you as his own, the coil inside you snapped. Pleasure washed over you in waves, each one stronger than the last, pulling cries from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you.

He didn't stop his movements, continuing to thrust into you as you came around him, your cries only fueling his own desire. His fingers tightened on your hips while the other hand continued to work you through your climax, prolonging the exquisite sensation.

His pace became erratic, the rhythm breaking down as he chased his own release. With a final grunt and a whispered curse, he drove deep inside of you, his body tense as he came, filling you with his spend. His guttural moan carried through the room as he rode out his orgasm, each thrust sending little aftershocks through your sensitive body.

His grip on your hips relaxed slowly, his breathing heavy and ragged against the skin of your back. He stayed still for a moment, buried deep inside you, allowing you both to come down from your highs.

Finally, he carefully withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you with a sigh, getting up to retrieve the handcuff key from his trouser pocket and releasing you from your bondage.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft in the silence, as he worked to rub the feeling back into your tender wrists.

You looked up at him through your lashes and nodded, amazed and impressed at his sudden shift from commanding sergeant to tender, caring lover.

“So,” Sergeant Barnes began once he had determined there was no real damage to your wrists, “what time is your husband getting home?” You both burst into laughter as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Mmm, probably sooner than we expect,” you teased, leaning up to give him the deep kiss you’d been denied throughout the length of your little game. “That was a lot of fun.”

He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the dresser. “Yeah, it was; we should have done it sooner.” He opened the drawers, pulling out a fresh change of clothes for himself before moving to the closet to grab your robe. “Thank you for that; I really did have a long shift, and that certainly took the edge off. You were amazing, doll.” “My pleasure, obviously.” You’d been excited and intrigued when Bucky first brought up acting out his fantasy with you, but no amount of discussion could have prepared you for how much you had loved actually doing it. You raised your hands over your head, arching your back in a stretch, laughing as you watched his eyes follow the heave of your breasts as they moved upward, licking his lips. “But meth, Bucky? Really? That rumor gets out, you’re gonna get me fired.”

Bucky hummed as he grabbed some clean towels from the linen closet and brought them into the ensuite bathroom. You heard him start the shower. “You answered the door looking all sexy and I panicked,” he confessed, popping his head back into the bedroom, a sheepish grin across his face that made him look ever so boyish. You adored it. “Next time, I’ll say we got a call about you being a prostitute.”

You cackled at that, making him grin even wider. “Better not,” you warned as you got off the bed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “otherwise I might make you pay for it, and I don’t think you can afford me on a sergeant’s salary.”

Bucky grabbed at his heart in mock pain. “Ouch. Well, how about we clean ourselves up and use the money I saved by not paying you to go have a nice fancy dinner, instead? How does that sound? We can talk about doing your fantasy next.”

You took his hand and led him back into the bathroom and the inviting warmth of the shower. “That sounds perfect,” you told him as you moved to stand under the showerhead. You planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze before kissing your forehead. “I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes.”

You began to lather each other up, trying your best, yet failing miserably, to not get too frisky with one another. “Hey, Buck?” you asked after a moment, a question coming to mind that you’d been meaning to ask him.

“Yeah, doll?” He was gently scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, and it felt like heaven.

“How come you gave yourself a Southern accent?”

Bucky laughed and pulled you close, your back to his front, as he planted a kiss just behind your ear, right over the mark he had sucked into your skin. “I told you, doll. You looked so fucking sexy when you opened that door, I just panicked!”

[earl-grey-teacake]

so how are we feeling after that news.

I am not sure how I feel about everything since I just keep finding out more stuff and it makes me feel worse and worse. I’m sad, and upset, and it feels like a tinge of grief. Not for my own dreams or aspirations but for Logan’s. That being said, I will continues writing my Baby!Loscar AU and I will continue/ start my other Loscar fics. I feel like it is a tough time and I hope to make it a little bit lighter.

I think my biggest feeling is overall disdain and disgust for how Williams went about this. My biggest issue is the whole situation being portrayed as “Williams is a business, this was a business decision. No emotion here” Businesses are not faceless entities, they are teams of people. It’s why teams put a lot of effort in PR and companies invest so much in HR. They are comprised of people and we as spectators and fans also play a role in the business that is Williams. Fandoms are profitable, fan content keeps people engaged, and those who are engaged spend money. This decision has shot William’s PR and whatever goodwill they managed to achieve last year. Logan is a martyr in the eyes of fans and James Vowles has come off as a deranged man. For the past month, any comments to the media are either of him passive-aggressively calling Logan a failure or thirsting after Carlos in a way that makes me want to call HR.

This decision isn’t even a money decision either. They talk about the upgrades, and need for points but are putting their faith in a driver that is clearly being brought up from F2 too early. They are taking risks that genuinely make no sense to me and I am afraid it may damage this new rookie’s confidence on top of it.

I cannot tell if James Vowles is doing this because he wants to live a bit wild before Carlos comes, has a vendetta against Logan, or he is just off his rockers.

I am happy Logan is out of there though and wherever he goes, I go. I hope he goes to Indycar. This is not me seeing Indycar as so lesser sport where unsuccessful F1 drivers should go it. I have great admiration for Indycar and genuinely enjoy watching it more than F1. My wish for Logan to go to Indycar is for the general vibe and how friendly everyone is and for the fact that I live 3 hours away from a track and will absolutely take PTO to see Logan race.

Personal feelings are below if anyone wants to read them.

I got into F1 last year around September but really dove into it around the beginning of November. Logan was someone who never really stood out to me in the beginning but I began to notice him more and more around October and November and I couldn’t help but sympathize for him. I remember how anxious I was waiting for him to be re-signed and the relief I felt when it happened.

I wanted him to do well and succeed so desperately and as it became more and more apparent that James and Williams, were doing, I became a bigger and bigger fan of him. I know I’ve mentioned it briefly on here before but near the end of last year and the first half of this year, I was dealing with a toxic workplace and an abusive supervisor. As the months went on, the treatment towards me got worse and worse and so did Williams’s treatment of Logan. Our workplace started to mirror each other.

The remarks, the veiled threats, the passive-aggressive comments that points to the same message “you’re under-performing, you’re not good enough”. Most of all, the expectation to practically perform miracles with tools and equipment that was vastly behind the rest of the field. I know very well how heavy and oppressive the work environment must have been. I can’t imagine how awful it must have been to have to be doing it everyday, to have to perform for the public like everything is fine, and take the abuse from James, from journalists and commentators, and social media. I was already breaking under my supervisors treatment of me, I definitely would have snapped in Logan’s shoes. However, while my supervisor got kicked out of their position, Logan was the one who got kicked off the team. I do hope he takes the summer to enjoy himself and heal.

I feel so bad for him and I’m so upset at how I didn’t know this was his last race. I had Abu Dhabi planned out thinking that was going to be Logan’s last and now I’m just a bit crushed.

[imaginecolby]

Friends with Benefits || Part One - The Hook Ups

your relationship with colby was nothing that you ever saw for yourself. you’d always imagined yourself with the perfect partner, getting married, starting a family, living in a beautiful home. never once did you ever imagine that you would’ve found yourself in a “situationship” of sorts, and especially not with someone who you briefly saw a future with.

you’d told colby about your feelings for him, but he was never sure that he saw himself committing to a relationship. he laid out boundaries for what he wanted, promising to not let it become anything more. you begrudgingly agreed to them, no matter how much you wanted something different. you just wanted anything. you just wanted him.

you never wanted to be a side piece, or a one night stand. you especially never wanted to be a “friend with benefits.” yet, that’s exactly where you found yourself. keeping your feelings at bay was hard at first, but you did it. you kept telling yourself over and over that this was something you wanted. 

"anything to be with colby in any capacity. regardless of the circumstances." was your motto at this point.

it started out as every once in a while, which then progressed to monthly, then weekly, and was now almost daily. your hookups were more frequent the more stressed out about work (or life in general) either of you were, and coming up on the end of the year, you both had pretty full plates. you were practically living with each other, with the number of nights you spent together. but the sex was great, and neither of you had any complaints.

"are we still on for tonight?" colby text you one afternoon. you were just getting off work, ready for the extended time off you were about to have. the holidays were coming up, and you’d been saving up your PTO to have a decent vacation.

"yeah! im on my way home now, if you wanna come over a little bit earlier." you replied.

"i just might. i had a terrible day today." he text back.

"alright, i’ll see you later."

once you got home, you showered and straightened up your living room and bedroom. colby text you once he arrived at your complex and was making his way upstairs. after you read his text, you went around and lit a few candles in your bedroom. just as you finished, you heard a knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his knuckles rapping against the door. you took a deep breath before moving to answer, concerned that you were as nervous as you were. you never had butterflies before when he’d come over. that can’t be good. 

you finally answered the door, colby leaning against the door frame. his eyes met yours and he flashed you a smile, and it took everything in you to not fall to the floor.

"hi." you said softly, inviting him in. he followed your instruction, and you watched as he placed bags on the counter.

"i brought us dinner. i figured we’d work up an appetite in no time." he said with a smirk, moving closer to you. his hands found their normal place on your hips, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. as your lips met, he let out a low moan. “mmm, i’ve missed you.” 

"it’s only been two days." you giggled as his lips traced down your neck. 

"two days too many." he said with a muffled voice. you leaned your head back, allowing for more space on your neck for colby’s lips to explore. you moaned softly as his lips reached your sweet spot, and he began sucking. you rolled your eyes, knowing he was going to leave a hickey, but you didn’t care. you were off for the next three weeks, and you were ready to let him leave marks all over you. his hands made their way down your back, stopping right in the middle. he pulled away from the kiss, and raised a brow at you.

"no bra? naughty girl." he said, his hands roaming up your shirt and stopping right at your breasts. the tips of his thumbs barely brushed against your nipples, but they sent a shock wave of pleasure up your spine.

"okay, i can’t wait any longer." you said with a sigh. you jumped into colby’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. his hands spread out across your ass, and he gave you a tight squeeze. he held you tight as he made his way to your bedroom, lips not leaving from yours as he moved. he laid you down on the bed and kissed you hard before standing up. you looked up at him with doe eyes, watching fondly as he undressed in front of you. he glanced around briefly, another smirk flashing across his face as he noticed the candles.

"nice touch." he huffed a laugh. before you had a chance to respond, his lips were against yours again.

in the moments that followed, everything was as perfect as it always was. the way your body meshed with colby’s was something more than you could’ve ever dreamed. he treated you as if you were a goddess in his hands, and you treated him the same. you both made sure that every need was met, and every inch of your bodies was taken care of.

colby’s hips began stuttering against you, telling you he was close to finishing. you were almost there yourself, so you began grinding against him.

cursing through gritted teeth, colby’s pace sped up the closer he got. with one final thrust, the two of you groaned in unison, your names leaving each other's lips in harmony. he collapsed on top of you as silence filled the room. you laid there quietly as you caught your breath, colby finally moving to lay next to you. you whined quietly as he pulled out, feeling empty.

colby spent the rest of the night with you, eating dinner, and just hanging out. it had been a long time since the two of you hung out as friends, given your arrangement, but this was a nice change from the norm. colby was someone that you'd always had strong feelings for, platonic and romantic. colby never alluded to having romantic feelings for you, but you would take the platonic ones for as long as you could.

[togrowoldinv]

The Meeting

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

When you meet a fellow mom at the PTO meeting, you soon realize just how much love she needs

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, fingering, oral (W receiving), mommy kink, general fluff at some parts

Note: I just woke up thinking about milf Wanda lol. Follow my library blog @togrowoldinvlibrary for updates! Enjoy!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Your hands shake with nerves as you enter the school. You’re not one for group events, but your daughter’s teacher had asked you personally to help with this year’s spring events. You couldn’t say no.

You follow the other parents to the sign in table. Recognizing a couple of the parents, you smile at them and have some small talk as you sign your name.

And then you see her. A mom who’s new to the town, and everyone is curious about.

She sits next to you. You figure it would be impolite not to introduce yourself.

“Hey I’m y/n,” you say, holding out your hand for the woman to shake.

She turns to you. You could get lost in those eyes.

“Wanda,” she supplies simply. She shakes your hand gently.

Before you can ask her any questions, the meeting starts. Pepper Potts leads the conversation and explains that you’ll be divided into teams for the process.

You’re uneasy at the idea, but when she pairs you and Wanda as a team your curiosity is peaked.

The meeting comes to an end and it’s time to talk to your partners to make schedule arrangements.

“So, we can meet here on whatever night works best for you,” you start the conversation with Wanda.

“The boys keep me pretty busy,” Wanda explains.

“Boys?”

“Yes, I have twins,” she clarifies.

“Oh wow. I thought one was exhausting,” you say. Wanda laughs a little at that. “We can meet anywhere at anytime. I’m open as long as I have time to get a sitter.”

“Would you mind if we did it my house?” Wanda asks. “I have to wait for my husband to drive to me places and it’s just easier if-“

“Sounds perfect,” you cut her off. You didn’t need to know anymore than that about her husband. “Just text me your address.”

You hand her your phone to put her number in and shoot her a quick text that it’s you. With a quick goodbye, you and Wanda go separate ways. She texts you the next morning with her address and the time to be there.

The first time going there you were nervous. You didn’t know anything about Wanda other than her first name. Every week you learn more about her and start feeling yourself really drawn to her.

Today when you show up at Wanda’s, she answers the door wearing her best dress. But her eyes are sad.

“Hey Wanda. You look nice,” you tell her. “I was supposed to come here tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, come in,” she replies.

You walk in and sit your stuff down on the couch like usual. Wanda sits next to you, but her focus is on her phone.

“Is everything okay?” You ask her.

Wanda drops her phone onto the couch and turns to you.

“He isn’t coming home tonight. It’s our anniversary and he isn’t coming home,” she says. She starts crying.

You move closer to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. She leans into you and cries into your chest.

“I’ve got you, Wanda,” you say. “I know how hard this is.”

“You do?” She asks through her tears.

“I do. I went through the same thing. Hence why I’m a single parent now,” you explain.

“I didn’t know. You always seem to have it together,” Wanda says.

“Yeah well, truly I don’t. But that’s alright.”

You wipe Wanda’s tears from her face with one hand and rub your hand over her back with the other.

Wanda’s tears begin to subside. She shifts in your arms and is now inches from your face.

“Wanda,” you whisper just before she leans forward and kisses your lips.

You can’t help but kiss her back. She’s so beautiful and so deserving of soft love. After a few minutes of kissing, Wanda seems to realize what’s happening and she pulls away a little.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her breath hits your lips.

“Wanda, when is the last time someone kissed you like this?” You ask her.

“I don’t know.”

You run your hand through her hair and Wanda’s eyes close in comfort.

“Can I kiss you again?” You ask. She nods. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, please, yes,” she breathes out.

At her words, you kiss her deeply. She melts against you. You pull her into your lap, and kiss her neck. Wanda moans and moves her hips as you pay attention to the soft skin of her neck.

“Bite me,” she mumbles. You grin against her neck and do as she asks.

You pull away and look at her. She’s so beautiful.

“Wanda, you’re so gorgeous,” you tell her.

The smile she has on her face makes your heart swell. You lift up her dress over her hips to reveal red lacy panties.

“Fuck, Wanda.”

You run a finger over her panties and feel her wetness. She grinds against your finger and you take that as a sign to slip her panties to the side.

“Oh god,” Wanda moans.

“Be good for me, baby,” you say. “Already so wet for me.” You run your fingers over her folds and slip them into her.

She rides your fingers as you continue to kiss anywhere you can reach on her body. It’s not long before Wanda’s hip movements become erratic.

“Come for me, Wanda,” you say.

“Fuck,” she moans as she coats your fingers.

You work her down from her high. And she falls against your shoulder. You kiss her temple and she smiles against you.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” You ask her.

“I haven’t felt this good in so long,” Wanda replies. She kisses your neck. You hold her tighter against you.

“You deserve to always feel this good.”

Wanda shifts in your arms to look at you again. You kiss her and reach behind her to unzip her dress. She stands up and the dress along with her panties fall to the floor.

You take in the sight of her standing there with nothing on.

“My god, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her.

She smirks and reaches her hand out for you to take. You smile and take it. Wanda pulls you off of the couch and into her bedroom.

You kiss her as she falls back onto the bed. This time you bring your lips to her nipples and suck them.

“You feel so good,” Wanda says. Her hands push you further into her chest.

“All for you, mommy,” the word slips from your lips. You stop sucking on her due to the feeling a little embarrassed. But Wanda doesn’t let you hesitate for long.

“Mommy needs you,” she says. The term makes you both so amped up and ready.

“I’ll take care of you, mommy,” you say. You move down her body and drop kisses along the way.

You lick her folds and she makes beautiful sounds. Taking her clit in your mouth, you bring her close almost immediately. She definitely hasn’t been touched like this in a long time, if ever.

“Fuck baby,” Wanda says.

“Come for me, mommy,” you say against her.

And she does. You wish you could remember the sounds she makes for the rest of your life. So beautiful, so pleasant.

You clean her up and move up to lay next to her. Wanda kisses you in a way that feels like she’s thanking you for helping her feel so good.

“I’m so glad I met you, Wands,” you say.

“I’m glad I met you too, y/n,” she says. She moves to straddle your waist and slips her hands under your shirt. “It’s your turn now, baby.”

You smile and let Wanda start to undress you.

You are so glad you went to that PTO meeting.

Wanda Maximoff is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

And here she is above you, making you feel so good.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

[doeeyeseddie]

"Road trips" for soft prompts if you feel inspired

👉👈😊

road trip fics are my kryptonite so it was difficult to keep this short skhdk thank you!!

[read on ao3]

Buck shows up at Eddie’s place unannounced early on the second morning since Christopher has left for camp.

At least half the time when he comes over it’s without specific plans, but this morning, it’s clear that Buck does have specific plans, he just didn’t tell Eddie about them.

Eddie is sitting aimlessly at the kitchen table, trying to convince himself to at least put away his dishes from breakfast, when Buck bursts in and (Eddie is aware of how cliched that is) immediately brightens up his so far very gray morning.

“Eddie,” he calls instead of a hello, and he hears him kicking off his shoes by the door, “it’s me! Are you dressed?”

Eddie snorts. “You think I have a habit of walking around naked when I’m home alone?”

Buck’s face is pink when he rounds the corner to the kitchen. “No, uh, I’m– I meant dressed to leave the house.”

Eddie looks down at the ratty old gym shorts he slept in. “Uh. No, why?”

“Well, then go get dressed,” Buck orders him instead of answering the question. He waves at the dishes and adds, “I’ve got this.”

“Get dressed for what?” Eddie asks

“Just put on something comfortable that you’re okay with being seen in in public.” Buck starts gathering Eddie’s dirty dishes, completely ignoring Eddie’s confusion. “I’m not answering any questions until we’re in the car.”

Ten minutes later, Eddie is dressed and ready, and Buck’s waiting in the living room for him, Eddie’s duffle bag on the couch next to him.

“When did you pack that?” he asks, and Buck gives him a sunny smile and a shrug.

“The other day.”

“Where are we going? For how long? And what about work? How long have you been planning this?”

“I knew you’d just sit around and mope while Chris is away,” Buck says, getting up and grabbing Eddie’s duffle. “Come on, I’ll tell you the rest in the car.”

It turns out that Buck has planned a whole road trip for them.

“Just a few days,” he says. “I talked to Bobby, and we both have plenty of PTO, so I figured, why not distract ourselves a little bit while Christopher is at camp?” He glances at Eddie for a moment before focusing back on the road. “We’re going hiking for a few days, one state park after another. And then we’re in San Diego for two nights, just to relax. Or at least I hope it’ll be relaxing – I got us this really nice hotel with a wellness center, but we’re gonna have to share a room.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, and desperately hopes it’s true. They shared Buck’s bed for weeks during the pandemic, but that was before Eddie realized that he’s very, very attracted to his best friend. “We’ve shared plenty of times.”

“Yeah, but after four nights of sharing a motel room with me, you might want your own space back.”

Eddie kind of wants to tell him he never wants space from him, but he catches himself just in time.

There are a lot of close calls like that over the next few days: thoughtless words that come too close to a confession, sleepily cuddling closer in a motel room that accidentally didn’t book them into a twin room, staring at Buck for too long when he takes his shirt off while hiking. Buck does almost all of the driving and Eddie spends too much time watching him rather than the landscape flashing by, the long stretches of road not nearly as fascinating as Buck’s face while he talks, his one-handed gestures, his smile, the way he sometimes laughs with his whole body.

“Hey, did I tell you I wanted to take you to Channel Islands National Park?” Buck asks on an especially empty road somewhere between the desert and San Diego. “It’s super inaccessible so I figured it wasn’t something we could do with Christopher anyway, but you can only get there by boat and everything’s limited so they say you should start planning like six months ahead of time. I’ve had this planned for a while, but not for that long.”

“No, you didn’t tell me,” Eddie says, and it comes out sounding just as weak as he feels.

“Oh yeah, you probably know it – they’re these islands off Santa Barbara where you’re not even allowed to bike, you have to do everything on foot. But we could’ve hiked there and camped, and then gotten a nice hotel in Santa Barbara if we wanted. They’re beautiful, apparently, but I wouldn’t want Chris to feel left out.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, something that feels a bit like laughter rising up in his chest. He can’t believe Buck is real sometimes, that there’s someone with all that love in his heart, and that he gives it to Eddie and his son so freely. “It sounds great, though.”

“Yeah, so maybe we can go next year when he’s at camp. Do you think he’ll be less mad if he’s doing something cool at the same time?”

“I don’t think he’ll be mad at us at all,” Eddie says. “If there’s nothing to do but hike–”

“There’s whale watching too, and all sorts of other animals,” Buck interrupts. “I think I could make it cool for him, too, if only there was a way for him to get around comfortably.”

“I’m sure you could.” Eddie’s mouth is dry, and he wipes his sweaty palms on the shorts he’s wearing. “Pull over.”

Buck glances at him, confused. “What?”

Eddie takes a breath. “Just– when you can do it safely, please pull over.”

Buck gives him a look that’s equal parts confused and worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie says, even though his heart feels like it’s trying to beat right out of his chest.

“Okay.” Buck sounds like he doesn’t fully believe him, but he doesn’t ask again until he’s pulled over at a tiny rest stop that’s nothing but a parking spot and a trash can a minute later. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, I didn’t– I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Eddie starts. He wipes his hands again. “I just– I didn’t want to say this while you were driving, but I also can’t not say it any longer–”

“Say what?” Buck asks when Eddie pauses to take a deep breath.

“Oh, god,” Eddie mutters, and then turns to face Buck, makes himself look him in the eye. “I love you. I have for a long time, and it’s been getting harder and harder not to tell you, so. I guess I’m telling you.”

Buck’s eyes widen, and he starts trying to unclip his seatbelt. The worry and confusion melt from his face and turn into something that Eddie very much hopes is happiness, and then asks, “Wait, just to be sure, you mean–?”

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie clarifies, Buck’s seatbelt finally clicks open, and he launches himself across the middle console to grab Eddie’s face with both hands.

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and then his mouth is on Eddie’s and he doesn’t think about anything else for a few minutes.

Buck exhales a breathless laugh against his lips and pulls back just enough to talk but leaning his forehead against Eddie’s instead. “God, Eddie, what the fuck? When you said to pull over I thought– I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t this.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, nudging Buck’s nose with his own. “It’s just– you love us so much, and I love you so much and I just couldn’t wait a minute longer to tell you.”

“Well, now I’m kind of glad you asked me to pull over first.” He leans in for one way too short kiss. “I would’ve crashed the car.”

“Safety first,” Eddie says, but he’s not really focused on talking anymore.

“This is good timing,” Buck keeps talking, and he only grins at the noise of protest Eddie makes when he leans back to look at him. “First of all, this way I can take you on a date in a city rather than in some remote mountain place.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says, and he’s distracted by Buck’s immensely kissable mouth, but he still wants to know, “And secondly?”

Buck grins wider and tugs Eddie closer with a gentle hand on the back of his neck. “The fancy hotel in San Diego didn’t have any twin rooms.”

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

i'm sorry this is late and short but college is really kickin my ass that's a lie i just procrastinated writing this and now i'm procrastinating my assignments too WHOOHOO character featured: scaramouche, haypasia, lumine, mention of tighnari cws: none :) wc: 1,016

prev | masterlist | next

Chapter Nine

“You’re just in time,” Scaramouche says as you walk in. You had left to grab lunch and had been dragging your feet but the harbinger managed to pique your interest.

“Just in time for what?” you ask, eager to know what had your superior so excited. It’s not every day he’s this cheery and you were planning to enjoy his good humor.

“Take my hand and close your eyes,” he commands, and you do so without hesitation.

“Behold, my first follower.”

You open your eyes again and you’re no longer in the office. You’re now surrounded by trees and flowers and green glass. As you take everything in, you become aware of a young woman sleeping on a small bed in the arboretum. It takes a minute for you to process everything and reply.

“Your first follower? What about me?” you ask, faux offended.

“You’re not my follower,” he shoots back. “You're my right hand.”

“Oh really?” you tease. “And just what are my benefits as your right hand?”

He smirks as he answers, “Front row tickets to my neverending awesomeness.”

For once, you’re the one rolling your eyes. “I was hoping for PTO but that works, too, I guess.”

The banter eventually stops, but the atmosphere remains amiable and light. The two of you are content to watch the sleeping woman in the comfortable silence, until she receives a guest.

“Oh, this day just keeps getting better!” the harbinger exclaims. “Watch this, I’m gonna start talking to her– it’s gonna freak her out.”

You watch as the traveler looks around, searching for your boss, not realizing he is only there in spirit. Her little companion is flying around erratically like an anxious gnat.

“...I know you must be curious. I might as well tell you that I entered Haypasia’s consciousness the moment I sensed your touch.”

As they talk, you finally entertain the thoughts nagging at the back of your head.

If he was able to project himself to the traveler through Haypasia hundreds of miles away, how come he needs to hold my hand?

Clearly, he can maintain a telepathic connection without physical contact— how else would he be talking to the traveler? And she can definitely see him, too; she’s staring right at him. There’s no reason for Scaramouche to be holding your hand. He just is.

Just as that train of thought began to consume you, the harbinger’s voice took on a hint of ire, detectable only because you spend so much time with him. He doesn’t look mad, per se, but whatever the traveler said has soured his good mood.

“Both good and bad things can be considered gifts. After all, gods are not expected to abide by reason.”

Thunder rumbles, simultaneously distant and in your ears. Through your connection with Scaramouche, you can see the sky darkening above Pardis Dhyai. A lightning storm of his own creation. Screams quickly follow.

The greenhouse blinks out of view and you’re disoriented until you move and feel Scaramouche’s fingers tighten reflexively around yours. Realizing what he had done, he drops your hand like a squirming beetle.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Not wanting to further upset your boss, you went back to your desk to sort through the correspondence.

Hours pass and you're finally about to leave the office when you notice Scaramouche lost in thought. As wont to avoid irritating him as you are, your curiosity– or worry?– gets the best of you.

“Lord Scaramouche…?” you call out. He raises his head and you continue. “Did the traveler say something to trouble you?”

“That little twerp tried to talk me out of ascending to godhood,” he growled. “She said that my allies plan to infuse my consciousness with divine knowledge capsules. She said that I’ll change, that I won’t be the same.

“That they’re essentially turning me into a new person,” he finished.

You contemplated his words with a concentrated look. No words would reassure him, so you took a different approach.

“Well, are you sure you even want to ascend to godhood?”

The harbinger looks positively scandalized but you keep going. “I mean, think of all you’ve accomplished!

“You command an army of soldiers. You answer directly to Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You’re already really powerful on your own and, I dunno, I kinda like you the way you are now…” You trail off at the end, cracking your knuckles nervously. “Well, whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

He’s still staring at you with his mouth agape, so you turn to walk back to your desk before a question comes to mind.

“By the way, sir… Why did you electrocute that one guy? Your accuracy is usually perfect, but just now you hit someone who was protecting Haypasia.”

Broken from his reverie, his lip curls. “I’m not a fan of foxes.”

*****

Before you parted ways at the hotel last, Scaramouche told you he didn’t need you to come, essentially giving you the day off.

Unfortunately for him, you hadn’t taken a day off since before you started working for him. With your overabundance of time, you found yourself itching to bake. Three hours later, you stood in the hotel’s kitchen with a perfect custard pudding. And no one to share it with.

You know he’s not a fan of sweets, but you ultimately decide that your boss should be your judge. In a blink, the pudding is packed into a basket and ready to go.

The walk to the base is most pleasant. A gentle breeze softens the sun's intensity and plays with your hair, caressing your face like a fond mother. The cheerful sun, the billowing clouds, and the song of the dusk birds made for the perfect ambience. Such tranquility could not, however, mask the banging coming from underground.

Without much thought, you pick up the pace. Scaramouche is probably getting rough with the soldiers again…

A moment later, you arrive at the mecha suit lab and push the doors open. To your horror, it is not a Fatuus that Scaramouche has engaged.

It’s the Traveler.

prev | masterlist | next

tags: @lacunaanonymoused, @dollpoetwriting a/n: this would've been longer but then it would've turned into a 2-for-1 chapter and that would really irk me

[monsterrae1]

tease tidbit tuesday! 👨🏻‍🍼👨🏼‍🍼

Tagged by @heartbeatdiaz @prince-buck-diaz @jesuisici33 thanks !! 🖤

rule: share whatever scene or snippet from your fic that has you excited, ig???

This is the last thing I wrote in the girl dad au, so here you guys have it;

Once in Bobby's office, he handed Buck a bunch of papers for him to fill and smiled at him the entire time that Buck was working on them.

"How are you feeling?" Bobby asked when Buck handed over everything.

"Terrified," Buck replied, making Bobby chuckle, "I wanted to be a dad so bad, you know? And now that I have her, all I can think of is how I'm just gonna screw her over He shook his head,

"You're the closest thing I've got a good father figure, Bobby, but every single insecurity that my parents gave me, is still there, I'm just afraid I'm gonna make the same mistakes over and over" Bobby shook his head, "You won't kid, and you're not alone, you have all of us, okay? But I have no doubts that you're gonna do great, because you already do, to some degree, with Christopher" Buck blushed and look away "That's not the same, at the end of the day I get to hand Christopher back to his dad; with Kai, I'm fully responsible for her'

"It is scary, but I know you Buck, you're gonna give your all to that little girl. If anyone is going to be a great father, if going to be you"

Buck smiled, feeling lighter, Bobby having this much faith in him reassured him that he wasn't going to be a completely horrible father.

Bobby told him to not worry about the paperwork, that he had a couple of weeks for paternity leave, plus a lot of PTO that he could use to get settled, and since Chim was also scheduled to come back in a week or so, they would deal with temporary replacements until then, Buck was about to apologize for the inconvenience, but Bobby waved it away and told him to go back to his daughter.

Buck made his way back to the loft quickly, itching to be back with his daughter, but once he was at the top of the stairs he had to stop and take in the sight for a minute, telling himself that this was probably all he was gonna get and that he needed to savor it, at least for the next handful of minutes.

Eddie had taken a seat in one of the sofas, Kai still cradled safely in his arms, but she was awake now, Eddie was speaking nonsense to her in a soft voice and Buck couldn't quite make out what he was saying, one of her little hands was holding tightly into his finger, and Eddie was pretending to eat it, all while Kai just started at him with wide eyes - He knew that she couldn't quite see just yet, but she still seemed fascinated by Eddie.

Part of him wished he could stay there longer and pretend that Eddie was holding their daughter, and not just looking after Buck's daughter while he was busy; but he needed to save his own heart from the heartbreak, and before it could get any wild ideas - like asking for Eddie's hand in marriage - he walked to them and sat down by their side.

"She's beautiful, Buck" Eddie said, eyes still stuck on Kai, Buck couldn't help but smile at them.

“Yeah, she really is, isn’t she”

Eddie turned to look at him, and that soft smile that was directed at his daughter one second ago, didn’t flag as he now directed it at Buck, “You’re gonna be such a good dad”

Buck’s heart did a bunch of acrobatics in his chest, making him blush and feel like it was going to beat out of it any second, “I’m gonna try, that’s for sure”

“That’s all you can do” Eddie said, sighing, “I kinda don’t wanna give her back”

That make Buck chuckle and relaxed back into the sofa, “Yeah, wait until she stars crying, little girl has a good set of lungs”

Eddie laughed, but since Buck still had a few more minutes until he really had to leave, he figured that he could let Eddie had a little longer with Kai.

-

Tagging if they wanna do this @brokenribsdiaz @loveyourownsmiilee @cowboydiazes @cowboy-buddie @buddierights @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @elvensorceress @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @hippolotamus @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @ebdaydreamer @exhuastedpigeon @panbuckley and whoever else wants to do this!

[mikaswannabe]

CARLA JAEGER IN TATTOOARTIST!EREN AU.

i imagine that miss mama carla was a firehouse baby. for the first 3 years of her life she grew up w two chaotic + unstable parents that just left her at a fire station one day.

then she grew up in foster care and from 13-18 she stayed in a group home with other girls of all different backgrounds, and they felt like family even if it was chaotic.

something that she took up during her childhood was sewing. like this bitch can make anything if she got a lil fabric. and she knows how to throw deown.

she has italian lineage with a thick jersey / new york accent in my head. curves like a disney mom.

after high school she went to a community college and also took classes at a fashion school. for money, she was the most one of the most charismatic bartenders & bottle girls you could ever meet, coming home with her pockets full of tips with the help of her pretty ass face.

everybody loves carla! if you don’t, you did something wrong. she has connections to so many helpful people because everyone just knows she’s that bitch.

and where do you think eren gets his firecracker ways from? she loves a good time, having all eyes on her at clubs, but if any jerk got out of line her mouth would run off the chaiinnn, and don’t make her have to slap the piss out of somebody, because she will.

at around 21, she met grisha, who was 26 and in med school. how did she meet him? partied too hard and wound up being treated by him.

“you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re just a student. get me an actual doctor.”

“or, you could go home. deal with the massive knot on your head and possible concussion by yourself.”

fuck, she loved his accent.

“at least i won’t have to see you again.”

“likewise.”

yeah, they hooked up that night. knot on forehead and all.

she didn’t think she was gonna fall for the man, especially since he already had a kid, but then a messy 3 years of falling in love later she was pushing eren’s big head out and marrying this german man.

she worked a desk job while eren was young, but after grisha got on top of his medical school fees and started getting that neurosurgeon money, she was in her stay at home mom bag.

eren was such an troublesome bby to deal with. he would always be running around and making him sit still was a challenge. one of the only times he would shut up without even having to be told anything would be when he spotted his mom drawing sketches of her dress designs, crawling up on her lap and watching everything she did.

and something that always infatuated him was her few tattoos that he would see every now and again. like the dragon on her shoulder that had beautiful lilies drawn around it, or the butterflies on her left foot. when he got into his tattoo art talent, grisha was against it but carla embraced it, allowing him to refresh her old tats and them getting matching ones of each other’s names, his on the back of his shoulder while hers is on her arm.

as eren got older his favorite parent was evident. he loves his mom but he LOVES annoying her even more. just goes in her room and lays on her bed like “what we watching?” the amount of times she’s popped his hand for reaching into her food.

she loves her son, but she gets to that “get the fuck away from me, eren. my head’s throbbing like a fuckin’ drum with you around, god.” he know’s he succeeded when she has to physically push him out of the room.

when they’re at home it’s either, “sweetie, have you eaten?” or “get out this kitchen, you moose! i’ll throw this fryin’ pan at your skull, move!”

when ppl be like, “eren, your mom’s so nice.” he agrees, but not forgetting to say “to you guys.”

but seriously, when it came to being a community mom in eren’s grade school days, carla was it! always packing foods and drinks for kids at the games, taking them out to eat afterwards, and clearing hoes at pto meetings. that mama drama is no joke.

now that e’s in college, when other mom’s complain that they miss their baby so much, she just nods. she was glad eren got his ass out by 18. she loves her baby, but handful isn’t even enough to describe him.

she’s able to claim time for herself again, and then, she knows her son, and even with all the problems he can bring onto himself, she knows he’ll be fine.

[bluecoati]

Hey I.....really don't like doing this

But with everything going on I haven't had the time OR energy to work, I do Lyft so I don't have PTO or anything so I'm making 0 money rn 😵‍💫

If anyone isn't aware, I have made a couple posts about it. Both of my parents are in the hospital after getting REALLY sick with flu, exacerbating other conditions, and they were having falling accidents and dizzy spells and such. I had to call EMTs to help get them to the ER. Dad fell out of bed & was face down on the floor for a number of hours & got 3 fractured ribs + they were worried about rhabdomyolysis and sepsis. Mom was having AFib issues and they are worried about her O2 levels when she isn't on oxygen, and since she fell & hurt her back/hip it's a little hard for her to get up & move.

They both will be having physical therapy before coming home, Dad much more than Mom. So I will be going back/forth to the hospital/whatever facility a LOT.

I got bills & gas & stupid fucking hospital parking & such to pay for & it's REALLY stressing me out sgdhdjd

Plus I am also technically sick with flu, even if I don't have super obvious symptoms, so I kinda SHOULDN'T work for a lil bit anyways but yeah sgdhsjs

If anyone would like to help me out, you can do so via my ko-fi, either tip or art comms. Art will be a lil slow to get to tho~💙🙏

I appreciate anyone who read all this & if you can't help financially, reblogging is also very helpful, thanku!

https://ko-fi.com/blue_and_nerdy

[imaginecolby]

Friends with Benefits || Part Six - The Scare

"y/n, i cannot believe you are still coming to work." your friend said to you as you were returning to your office after your lunch break.

"i used up so much of my PTO at christmas, i'm trying to accumulate some more so i can have some extra time for my maternity leave." you laughed as you sat back down at your desk.

"you're better than me. i would've been out of here as soon i could." they laughed. they returned to their desk, and you got back to work.

a few hours passed, and you were making your way through the day like normal. returning emails, making phone calls to clients, putting out fires in the department you oversaw. everything was going as well as you would've expected. until it wasn't.

all of a sudden, you felt the beginning of a contraction.

"oh no, mister man. it is too early for you to be coming." you groaned through gritted teeth. you coaxed yourself through the contraction, and is passed after about a minute. you went on about your day for another few hours, before you felt the pain return. you paced your office, which seemed to help contraction go away. after about the third or fourth occurrence, you figured you needed to call your doctor.

"i'd recommend you come in and be seen. i have an open appointment in twenty that you can take." your doctor said to you over the phone.

"perfect. i will be there." you said to them. you luckily were able to get a ride from a friend, and your doctor's office was only a few blocks from your job. you text colby while you were on your way, and let him know what was going on.

"i'm sure they're just braxton hicks, but my doctor just wants me to come in for some monitoring for a little bit. i'm on my way to the hospital now." your message read.

"i will be there as soon as i can." he replied. you pulled into the hospital parking lot, thanking your friend for the ride. you checked in and were immediately taken to a room. you waited just a few minutes before your doctor came in, explaining that they wanted to monitor your vitals, as well as your baby's.

after about twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. you called for them to come in, and colby fell through the door.

"y/n! is everything okay?" he sighed, falling to the floor next to your bed.

"yes. everything is okay." you said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "geez, did you run over here?" you teased, wiping his sweat from your hand.

"practically." he laughed awkwardly. just then, your doctor came back into the room.

"alright you two, or should i say three," they paused to take a seat. "everything is still as great as your last check up. baby boy is just getting a little impatient in there."

"are we at the point of bed rest yet?” you asked.

"not quite. i do recommend taking it easy, so you're not overly stressed. but not complete bed rest." they advised.

"okay. i can do that. work isn't too busy at the moment, so fingers crossed it stays that way." you said, rubbing your belly.

"perfect. let's get you set up to head home." your doctor said to you. you collected all of your things, got your discharge paperwork, and headed home. fortunately, your work day was almost done, so you didn't miss to much of your day.

you were in contact with your boss as soon as you got home to work out a plan for a lighter work load, and potentially starting your maternity leave sooner. they were fortunately very accommodating for your needs, it was lucky that you had such a good relationship with them.

once you got back to work, you were mainly working half days for the last month and a half leading up to your maternity leave. on your last day of work, your coworkers threw you a small baby shower for your last day. 

“i cannot believe you all did this for me. this is all too much.” you said through tears, as you continued opening your gifts. 

“you deserve it! we love you and we cant wait to meet your little one. we wish you and colby luck, and are sending you all the congratulations in the world.” one of them said to you.

“did i hear my name?” you heard a familiar voice ask. you turned and saw colby walking into the conference room where your festivities were being held. 

“what are you doing here!?” you asked gleefully, getting up to walk greet him. you gave him a hug and pressed a quick to his lips.

“oh, you know i never miss a good party.” he teased. “no, f/n text me and told me you were gonna need some help carrying things to the car.” he said.

as the shower was winding down, colby began taking things to the car, meticulously packing everything as to not damage any of the gifts. you thanked your friends again, gathering up the leftover food to take home. you made your way out to the parking garage to meet colby, walking with a few of your friends, the ones that actually planned the event. you thanked them profusely again for the shower, and for all the gifts. 

once you got home, you helped colby as much as you could with helping bringing in the gifts. once they were all inside, you began to unpack and clean up, placing them around your home in the places where they would be most used. you had so many blankets, clothes, toys and bottles. your baby was going to be well outfitted for his best life.

you stood in his nursery, which was finally all put together. colby had spent numerous hours in this room, putting together the crib, the dresser, and all the other furniture. he’d arranged it wonderfully, and you couldn’t believe how much this room had changed from your boring guest room. you stood there lost in thought for a while, before they were interrupted by colby’s voice.

“hey, there you are. you okay?” he asked, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

“yeah,” you said softly. “now that im out of work, it’s really starting to set in. in a few weeks, we’re gonna have a baby.” you said, rubbing your belly.

“i still can’t wrap my mind around it. seeing you grow every day has been so mind blowing, and seeing how big he’s gotten on his ultrasounds. it’s been kinda crazy.” colby laughed, placing his hand on yours on your belly. “but im excited.”

“me too.” you said, smiling up at him. he kissed you softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. you couldn’t believe you were coming up on the end of your pregnancy, but you really were excited. especially knowing that you had colby on your side. you made a great team, and you knew you were gonna raise a wonderful kid.

[with-love-from-hell]

Hi everyone,

So I'm still on Hiatus but I need to ask for help/support since apparently life never ceases to shit all over me when I'm already stressed out.

Tw: blood, animal illness, mentions of animal death

This morning, my partner and I woke up to puddles of blood all over our bedroom. There was a lot- and I mean a lot- as a result of my dog suddenly beginning to bleed from his mouth. After taking him to the emergency vet, we found out he has multiple tooth abscesses that have been caused by an underlying infection in his jaw- which the vet thinks may be linked to some sort of cancer, but right now she can't run any biopsies until the infection is managed.

So far, the vet bill has been $600, but there is more to come. He began bleeding again about an hour ago and I may need to take him back in, plus we are being referred to a dental specialist for surgery. Per what my vet has said, this is going to easily cost a few thousand dollars. I bought pet insurance today after trying to hold off on it until after we move, but they will not cover any claims until February 10th.

My dog is everything to me, and this entire situation has me stressed out beyond belief, and is resulting in draining my pto where I may need to take unpaid leave for my exam because I will be going negative after taking today and tomorrow for this. I don't normally like asking for financial help, but anything that can be offered during this time would be appreciated. I've owned Houser since he was a puppy, and he's been through a lot since then- between previous abuse from my sister's exhusband, having a skin allergy, chronic ear infections, high anxiety, joint issues, and going blind suddenly about a year and a half ago. He's barely 10 years old, and I'm really hoping to have a few good years left with him.

This whole situation has sent me into a spiral- both relating to the potential of him having cancer and financial strain on top of the billion things I have to worry about right now. If I can at least have some of the financial burden taken away, that would mean the world to me. If you can spare anything at all, I would be so grateful. After losing my cat to a cancerous tumor a few months ago, I don't think I can mentally handle having another happen.

Thank you to everyone who is willing and able to help out. This shit fucking sucks, and having any type of support rn would be great.