#happy idles weekend

[bobsten]

went on a great out of town date but it was horrible because I feel stupid the vibes were not there for them and now I’m just feeling silly

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 

[nickfowlerrr]

know my name - 4

series masterlist

pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x single mom!reader

warnings: 18+ only. angst. violence. winter soldier. allusion to murder. lmk if i’m missing something that should be included.

words: 3.1k

notes: 🫣 talk about a meet cute lol. hope you guys are getting the picture a little better with this addition. and thank you so much for reading and showing interest in this series, i have been loving seeing everyone’s responses and thoughts and i’m excited to write more! as always, comments and reblogs are welcomed and so appreciated. thank you for reading! 🩵

the way before:

The wind whips around you as you come up on City Hall, your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.

It’s been twenty minutes now since you got here, sitting in your car impatiently waiting for Veronica to come out. You called her three times before you decided to actually get out and grab her yourself.

She had been so excited all week, counting down the days until her meeting with the soon to be congressman. She had spent so many weekends canvassing for his campaign around campus, when the votes came in you swore it was almost like she had won the seat herself, she was so happy.

When you first met her, freshman year of college, you were a little put off by her intense enthusiasm and her love for politics. She was a true activist if you’d ever met one. You sometimes think if it wasn’t for that journalism class you took together, you’d never have ended up being as close as you were.

You’re grateful though; she’s so easily become one of the best friends you’ve ever had.

Which is why you don’t mind spending your free Friday afternoon picking her up from downtown. Especially when she’s offered to pay for dinner after.

But she had said five o’clock sharp…Mr. Tedder had an important meeting right after her interview with him and she’d need to leave right away. You check your phone as you get to the door.

5:18.

You make a face as you read the time, not of annoyance, but of perturbance.

As soon as you pull the door open, you can tell.

Something’s not right here.

You can’t place it, but you can feel it. A little gnawing as you look around at the empty room. It’s quiet, disturbingly so.

Eerie.

You take a half step closer to the empty desk as your eyes continue to scan all around.

You’re gripping your phone as you feel your heart rate tick up and set your coffee on the desk.

What the hell is wrong?

You gulp and look down to the screen, your phone unlocking with your face. You go to your call log and hit Veronica’s contact again.

You put the phone to your ear as you idle in the lobby and your stomach drops as you hear the familiar ring of her phone sounding from just down the long hallway.

You follow the sound with your gaze and ever so slowly force yourself to step toward it.

One step, then another. You feel your heart racing as you get to the mouth of the hallway. You can see the doors of the council chambers just slightly open to the left, a bit further down the hall, but that’s not where the ring is coming from. You steady your accelerated breathing as best you can as you step further into the hall. Straight down is the heavy wooden door that leads to the mayor's office.

You scare yourself as the sound cuts off and her voicemail tone starts sounding in your ear.

You pull the phone away as you gape at the door.

What do you do?

Why do you feel so on edge?

Where the hell is everyone?

Slowly, you get closer.

Just as you pass the doors of the council chamber, you feel something press against your back.

Instantly, you’re frozen. Eyes wide as you're nudged forward. You hear a click.

You don’t have to turn to look to know there’s a gun on you.

“Walk.”

The voice is dark and gravelly, low and almost rough; as if it hadn’t been used in a while.

He doesn’t know what took him so long to approach you.

He saw you coming the second you stepped out of your car and headed to the building. He knows what he’s supposed to do. He knows his mission. And he knows there cannot be any loose ends.

But he lets you enter. And he lets you look around. He watches, and for reasons he doesn’t understand, he’s struck by you. You have him off his axis.

You haven’t even looked at him yet but he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He wants to let you go but clean up isn’t here yet. He’s… conflicted.

Hide, he thinks. If he can hide you, you won’t be a problem. Not for him and not for them.

You listen easily and he’s appreciative. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

He can hear your heartbeat as it pounds and the delicate sound of your stressed breathing as he walks you forward.

You were calling the girl he found in the mayor’s office. Her presence as unexpected as yours. But he had his mission. He knew what he had to do. And, unlike with you, he didn’t hesitate.

Most missions his orders aren’t so personal. He wouldn’t have to get so close. To put people aside from his target at risk. But this man had made his captors seethe. He wasn’t just in their way, he was on the verge of dismantling their local operations entirely and they could not have that. He angered the wrong men and so they wanted him to pay. In more ways than one.

This was an important mission and his orders were to be unseen. So anyone who had the misfortune of crossing the soldier’s path, they’re expendable, he hears in his mind, they’re all expendable. And you will do what needs to be done.

And he has.

As he nudged you on, the muzzle of his pistol still firm against your back, he thinks better of leading you into the mayor's office.

You don’t need to see that.

“Right,” he instructs lowly.

You pause in your path and slowly look to your right. Another door, but you’re unsure of where it leads. And more unsure of how to move to get there. You’re entirely too scared to turn around and face whoever this man is, so you trepidatiously side step until you’re next to the door.

“Go,” he nudges again.

You reach for the handle and as your sweaty palm touches it, the door easily pushes open.

You don’t enter the small office space until you’re pushed inside. And you don’t register the welling in your eyes until an errant tear slips down your cheek.

You haven’t said a single word. You haven’t a single idea what is going on, what you’ve stumbled into. But you’re terrified.

The man - you assume - walks you into the office and all the way up to the desk at the back of the space. You stop as you come to the edge of it, nowhere else to go as your legs hit the front of the desk and you bend just the slightest, your heart gripping in your chest as your hands come up to stabilize you.

You’re sick at the thought of what might come next. What could happen to you.

A tight breath escapes you as you wait for him to tell you what he wants you to do next.

“Behind the desk,” he orders after what felt like an eternity - though was only a second or two.

You listen without question, not a thought in your mind telling you to disobey.

It’s only as you round the desk you realize he is no longer at your back.

Your gaze lands on his body. The man is tall, and built. He wears military clothes, all black with tactical gear strapped around him. A holster on his thigh that holds a knife, and you’re thankful you didn’t try to run. You wouldn’t have gotten very far at all.

Your eyes drag up his imposing form slowly until they reach his face.

His hair is dark and long around his jaw. He wears a mask that covers half of his face and black goggles that cover his eyes. For only a second it makes it less intimidating to look at him; and then you realize he can see you all too clearly - he watches you closely.

Suddenly his head snaps to the direction of the door, as if he’s heard something despite the still quietness of the building.

You stand in disturbed confusion until he speaks again, not looking back at you as he starts toward the door. “Under the desk,” he orders. “Stay there.”

You lower yourself down to your knees and as you try to crawl in the small space allotted there, you finally hear what it is the man in the mask must have heard.

There’s people coming.

Your blood freezes in your veins as your eyes sting. What do you do?

What if they’re here to help? Should you yell, run, something?

There’s a pull in your stomach that tells you not to. Something about his instructions that feel more aimed at your concealment than his own.

You hear him leave the room, shutting the door behind him. Then the sound of others coming down the hall, voices harsh and mean and some taunting and chortles intermingled. You can’t make out a word, but you don’t hear the man in the mask’s voice either.

The uncertainty and unknowing grows and makes you feel sick. You’re shaking, you realize, as you grasp your hands together in a fruitless attempt to soothe yourself.

What is happening?

Where is V?

Who is that man? And who are these people joining him?

What’s gonna happen to you?

You drop your head as you hold yourself beneath the desk. What can you do but wait it out…

You don’t know how long passes as you anguish alone, your stress and anxiety mounting, when suddenly the door of the room slams open. You shake despite yourself at the unexpected noise and clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your startled gasp down.

“When I give you an order,” a dark and mean voice cuts through the quiet, “you listen, soldier,” he sneers. “You understand me?”

There’s no response as you wait, quaking with baited breath.

You can tell when the man actually enters the room. He makes a mess in his wake, pushing things off the shelves and breaking objects you can’t see all around the space. The sounds add to your terror as they grow closer.

“You said you cleared the building, soldier,” the man speaks, his voice so close now you can imagine him standing right beside the desk. “So then who the hell is this?” He asks as he bends down and meets your terrified and teary gaze. His face is scrunched in what you can only assume is anger before he takes you in and a sick smirk graces his lips.

He grabs you, hard, and pulls you up to stand. His hand is rough around your arm and his hold hurts as he turns you, holding your back to his chest as you’re once again met with the man in the mask across the desk from you.

He shows no emotion, none anyone would be able to read at least as his face is still covered.

“Never known you to miss… well, anything, soldier. How’d this one get by you?” He asks, jolting you for fun as he laughs when you can’t help the whimper that escapes.

“She did get by you, didn’t she? Must’ve,” he walks you around the desk, closer to the man in the mask. “Because you know your orders. And you follow them,” he shoves you into the man before you as you gasp and grunt, crashing into his vested chest. “To the goddamn letter,” he snarls.

The soldier, as he called him, takes you by your left arm, his hold not nearly as painful as the previous, as he keeps you close to him.

“NOW!” The man yells, causing you to finally cry as you keep your face to the soldier's chest. You don’t know why he feels like your only form of safety here, but he does - and you don’t want to face the anger of the man behind you any longer.

You see the soldier’s hand move to his thigh and watch as he swiftly takes hold of the knife kept there.

It all happens so fast, you don’t even really see it coming.

You almost don’t realize what happened until you feel it.

You clutch onto the soldier as you gasp, the pain radiating as you look down to your torso.

His hand still holds the knife that he pierced into you as he keeps it there. It’s quiet, until he jabs the knife further into you.

He’s not looking at you as he does it, he’s looking at the man behind you.

You can feel the hot tears as they slip down your cheeks, and the warmth of your blood as it begins to stain through your shirt, though you can’t make a sound.

The man behind you speaks, “That’s what I thought,” his voice is sinister and you can almost hear the smile you imagine he wears. He walks past you and the soldier as he moves toward the door, “You wanted to make a mess, you can clean this one up yourself. Extraction is still set.”

You both stay as you are, you frozen despite the adrenaline that is starting to rush through you, and him still as he waits for… for what, you’re not sure.

He must hear something you don't hear after a moment because suddenly he quickly and methodically moves into action, though he tries not to jostle you much as he does.

You murmur in your disbelief and confusion as he gently moves you around and tends to you. Your mind is scattered everywhere and nowhere and you don’t register much of anything but the pain and the fear and the confusion that swims around you distantly.

What is happening?

There’s blood. You look down and touch the red before the soldier can stop you. Your hand shakes as you lift it, examining the blood on your fingers.

Things start to come into form once again as the pain re-emerges. Your shirt is ripped and you're laying on the floor as the soldier kneels beside you. His knife is no longer sticking out of you as he dresses the wound, a crappy little first aid kit on the floor next to you. You’re not bleeding much that you can tell but it still hurts.

You begin shaking again, you’re cold and you feel dizzy.

He says something but you’re hearing is muffled and you can’t make it out or focus on the words he speaks.

You feel a hand on your face as he gently turns you to look at him.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, his voice thick with a Russian accent that sounds…misplaced somehow. Like it’s not his native tongue, but one he speaks in often. “I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

A chill runs through you again and you feel your eyes flutter, rolling back as he strokes your cheek in an attempt to soothe you.

And then it all goes black.

-

You woke up in your apartment, you’re not sure how much later. Your car was parked in its spot outside. You were in a clean pair of pajamas, your whole body felt clean…

Was it a dream?

You sit up and gasp as your abdomen pulls.

Fear engulfs you as you trepidatiously grab the hem of your pajama shirt. You inch it up slowly until you see it. The proof of what happened. There’s stitches as you stare at the healing wound marring your skin.

What the hell happened?

Did he bring you here? Did he wash you and change your clothes? Drive your car? Stitch you up?

Who else could it have been if not him…

Veronica! Where is she?!

You gingerly get up and search for your phone, finding it charging on your kitchen counter. You scramble for it and are met with an absurd number of notifications from friends and acquaintances alike. You scroll back to the first missed few and see Veronica’s contact on a missed message.

Your brows furrow as you open it.

Your mouth is dry and your stomach lurches, a growing pit threatening to overwhelm you.

The time stamp is 6:00pm yesterday.

That can’t be right, you know it. You heard her phone ringing and… no. This is crazy. This can’t be real.

The message is insane. A confession of love, of her affair with Mr. Tedder. Their plan to runaway together. An apology for not telling you sooner. A goodbye.

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you as you click her icon to call her.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

You call again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

Before you finally break down. You can’t stop the tears as you crumble into yourself.

What the hell happened?

You know Veronica. You know that message wasn’t sent by her. You can’t prove it. But you know it.

Who can you tell? Who would believe you?

She didn’t have any family, no one to miss her. No one to argue with the facts that seem to have been proven by every reporting outlet in the state. No one but you. And who were you? What could you possibly do?

You waded through the two week news storm that followed, through the messages asking you if you knew, if she had ever told you about their plans to getaway, to abandon the campaign and go live their happiest lives together somewhere far away. It was awful. Torture. You never spoke a word of what happened to you that day. And you never spoke a word of what fate you were sure truly met your best friend and one time mayor. Though, you never did see anything. Only the implication of what those men were there for, of what the man in the mask was there to do.

There was no scene at city hall. Those men must have cleaned everything up. Set everything up.

And then there was you. The one loose thread in their perfectly constructed story.

Lucky for them you weren’t brave enough or strong enough to ever attempt to unravel it all.

Though deep down you knew the truth. You weren’t supposed to be here. And they probably have no idea that you’re still around.

That soldier, that man in the mask. He saved you. He was supposed to get rid of you, to kill you, but he didn’t.

And you have no idea why.

You don’t think you ever will.

You’re not sure you even want to.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of past trauma, Pocket's self esteem issues.

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: Jade's really doing her best in insert herself into Bucky's life. After forgetting all about you when he walked off with her at Central Park, you and Bucky have a talk, and he seems to see where you're coming from. Hopefully, you've reached an understanding.

A/N: FINALLY! Some quality Pepper Potts. I weirdly love writing her, for some reason, and she played a larger part in my original draft of this story, so I am so happy to finally give her some time to shine. To everyone getting hit by the Nor'Easter this weekend, I feel you. Currently snowed in and freezing. It's supposed to be Spring, damnit!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff

The next day, you called upon the one person you knew had been in your shoes and you hoped could help you make sense of your emotions. You knocked on the door of Pepper’s office, letting yourself in when she called out an invitation to enter.

“Pocket!” She put down the file she was perusing and stood up, walking around her desk to embrace you. “To what do I owe the pleasure, honey?”

“Hey, Pep,” you said, returning her hug with all the affection you felt for her. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

“For you?” she asked, motioning for you to sit in one of the armchairs that sat near the windows. “Always.” She called for her assistant to bring you both a pot of tea and you made idle small talk while you waited for it to arrive.

“So,” she said once her assistant brought the tea and poured you both a cup, then  departed with orders to hold all Pepper’s calls, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Is it business or personal?”

“Personal,” you told her, taking a sip of the Earl Grey.

“Did something happen with you and Bucky?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “Did he do something?”

“No,” you laughed, though there was no real humor in it. “God, no. Bucky’s been perfect. I’m worried that I’m the problem.” You put your cup down and looked at her. “Pep, when you and Tony first got together, how did you handle it?”

Pepper leaned back in her chair. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, honey. Tony’s given me a lot to handle over the years.”

You snickered at that. “Yeah, fair enough,” you said. “I guess I’m not really sure how to word this. We both know that, before you, Tony was a… well…”

“A giant slut?” Pepper offered.

“I was going to say something like ‘amorously adventurous’, but yeah, ‘giant slut’ also works,” you said with a laugh. “Even after you two became an official couple, women were still throwing themselves at him. How… how did you deal with it? Sometimes I just get so angry, so jealous, I want to scream. I hate feeling like this.”

Pepper reached across the coffee table and took your hand in hers. “Oh, honey,” she said, her voice conveying her sympathy. “I’m going to tell you something that took me a lot of time and pain to learn: You can’t control what other people are going to do. I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t easy for me. Every woman who made a pass at Tony, I kept thinking ‘she’s prettier, she’s smarter, she’s younger; why would he choose me when he could have any or all of them?’"

“But,” you began, “you’re Pepper Fucking Potts. You’re amazing.” The thought distressed you. If someone as absolutely wonderful as Pepper struggled like that, what hope was there for you?

“That’s what Tony said.” Pepper offered you a wistful smile. “I had to realize that it didn’t matter what any of those other women did, how they threw themselves at him. The only thing that mattered was how Tony reacted to them, and whether or not I trusted him. And I trusted him. So, you have to ask yourself: Do you trust Bucky?”

You nodded fervently. “With my life,” you said.

“No offense,” Pepper began, “but he’s your teammate. Yes, you trust him with your life, but you could say the same about Thor, or Clint, or even Rhodey. Do you trust him with your heart?”

“I do.” There was no ounce of hesitation in your answer, no pause for consideration. You trusted Bucky implicitly, with every fiber of your body and soul.

“Then you have to hold onto that,” Pepper said. “Like I said, you can’t control what other people are going to do, but you can control how you react to them. If you trust Bucky, then why waste your energy worrying about what someone else might do? Especially if you don’t have any doubts about how Bucky feels about you.”

“I know,” you sighed, “but it just feels like it’s so much easier said than done. Like, I know he loves me, but I’m so scared that one day, he’s going to wake up and realize that I’m just not worth it. That he could do so much better. Or that I’m holding him back. Did you know I’m the first person he slept with since the ‘40s?! What if he decides that he wants more? That, even though he loves me, I’m just not enough to keep him satisfied?”

Pepper exhaled and scooted forward in her chair to be closer to you, taking both your hands in hers. “Honey, I might be biased because you’re essentially my sister-in-law and I love you so much, but you are, by far, more than enough. I know you get caught up in your head, and that all of this relationship business is brand new to you, but you’re extraordinary. Look at everything you’ve overcome and where you’ve gotten yourself. Do you know how many people who have been through what you’ve endured would have just given up? Or settled for so much less?”

You halfheartedly shrugged your shoulders. “If it hadn’t been for Tony, though, I–”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Pepper interrupted gently. “Tony just saw what was already inside of you. He saw your drive, your raw talent. He knew you were starting from behind the finish line, and he just provided the resources to help you catch up. If you had been brought up the way you should have been, the way you deserved, with the love and support that parents are supposed to provide, I have no doubt that you would have found yourself here on your own eventually, with or without any assistance from Tony.”

Your throat caught with the weight of Pepper’s words. You held the CEO in the highest esteem, and to hear her speak of you this way filled your heart. “I wish you and Tony had been my real family,” you whispered, hoping to keep the cracks in your voice in check. “I love you both so much.”

Pepper’s face softened. “We might not be your blood family, honey,” she said, her eyes growing glassy with unshed tears, “but never for a minute think we aren’t your real family. You’re the family we chose, just like I hope we’re the family you chose.” You nodded in agreement– they were the family you chose– the entire team was, but Pepper and Tony were special. “I wish you could see what we all see whenever we look at you,” she said.

You swallowed thickly. “I wish I did, too.”

“Can I make an observation?” Pepper asked gently, as though afraid of overstepping. When you nodded, she continued: “Being loved has always been transactional for you. You were never allowed to just be loved for who you were; your sad excuse for a mother and her monster of a boyfriend made you work for it in the most horrible ways imaginable. They gave you less than the bare minimum, and only if they felt you’d earned it from them. That’s no way for a little girl to grow up. And it breaks my heart, because now that you’re surrounded by people who love you for you, and a man who would literally die for you, who sees no other woman than you, you’ve been so conditioned to think that, if you’re not actively working to earn that love, you don’t deserve it. And Pocket, honestly, nothing could be further from the truth. You make all of our lives better just by being in them.”

You looked down at where she still held your hands in hers. God, you wanted to believe her. She made it sound so fucking easy.

As if sensing your hesitation, Pepper went on: “I’m going to make a recommendation,” she said. “I’m making it not just as your friend, but as a sister and your boss, because I think it would be beneficial in all aspects of your life right now. You’re free to do with the recommendation whatever you like; I only ask that you seriously consider it.”

You looked at her, anxiety beginning to course through you as you ran through all the possibilities of what she could possibly have to say. You nodded for her to continue.

“I want you to consider getting yourself back into therapy,” she said, gently squeezing your hand. “We can all tell you how wonderful you are, how worthy of love, until we’re blue in the face, but it’s not going to do any good until you actually believe it.”

You looked down, ashamed to meet her eye. You had been in therapy for years while you were in college and when you first started working for Stark Industries, but you’d prided yourself on your progress and had stopped attending sessions a long time ago.

“I know you’re private when it comes to your past,” Pepper continued, “and that you don’t want anyone thinking less of you or pitying you because of what you’ve been through, but honey, it’s not healthy for you to go on this way. You’re in a whole new phase of your life right now that should be filling you with joy, but you’re unhappy. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, or to make you feel like you can’t handle it, but don’t you think it would be good to have some help? Maybe you could talk to Tony about accessing his Virtual Therapy program. That way, you’re not divulging your secrets to a real person, but you’re still getting the help you need.”

You looked at her, considering her suggestion. It had a lot of merit, and you wouldn’t have to open up to an actual person, just FRIDAY. And Tony had created it, had trusted it with his own issues, so you knew the system would be secure, and just as good, if not better, than speaking to a human therapist.

“Yeah, okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll talk to Tony and see what we can set up.”

The relief on Pepper’s face was palpable as she stood, pulling you up so she could embrace you again. “You’re so important to me, Pocket,” she whispered. “To all of us. None of us want to see you trapped in your head. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thanks, Pep,” you said, squeezing her back. “I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”

“I am, too, honey,” Pepper said, stepping back and releasing her hold on you. She brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. “Anytime you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You nodded, thanked her again, and made your way out of her office. Once back in the hallway, you pulled out your cell phone, dialing Tony’s number. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he answered. You could hear the sounds of DUM-E extinguishing something in the background; he was obviously down in his lab, setting something on fire. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey, Boss,” you began, taking a deep breath, “I need to ask a favor…”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[hellodarling1357]

I am BEGGING YOU!!!! Please can you write a Cassian x reader one shot based on this Tik Tok?

IDK I tried to link it up there but not sure if it worked so here’s the link again

thank you!!

Massages of Disappointment

I love this request! Thank you so much @cassianstannn32 for DMing me the link and asking me to write it, this was so much fun!

Here’s the link to the Tik Tok mentioned in the request 🥰

Word Count: 1.4k

After months of misaligned schedules and late nights working, you and Cassian finally had a free weekend with no plans, no responsibilities, and, as a rule, no work. The thought of being able to lazily wake up in his arms, spend the morning in bed together, and finally, finally, being able to simply be with one another that got you through what felt like the longest week of your life.

A beam of sunlight flittering across your face had you stirring from your sleep. With a soft smile you reached out across the bed for Cassian, only to be met with cold sheets and an empty bed. Your happy, content mood quickly made way for a frown and a groan as you pried yourself from underneath the covers. 

With bare feet, you patted throughout the house in search for Cassian, not surprised when you found him at his desk buried in paperwork.

“Cass?” Your voice is still coated in sleep as you walk into the room, coming up behind where he sits so you can wrap your arms around him.

“Y/N,” he turns his head, reaching up to give you a kiss. “You were asleep, so I thought I’d get a bit more done.”

“We were meant to stay in bed,” you say against his neck, breathing in deeply as you blink the sleep from your eyes. “We said no work this weekend.”

“I know, sweetheart. Give me five more minutes and I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You press a kiss to his cheek, giggling as he pats your ass as you walk away.

Five minutes quickly turned into 10, then 20 and there was still no sign of Cassian.

Jumping up from under the covers you make your way to his study where you find him still at his desk as he thoroughly reads through some documents, his face the epitome of deep concentration.

“Cass,” your voice is firm, but you let out a sigh when he jumps in his seat as you make your presence known to him.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m almost done.” You stay silent as you walk towards his desk, motioning for him to lean back so that you can make yourself comfortable in his lap.

“You said five minutes,” you murmur against his skin as you place kisses along his neck and jaw. His hands come up to rest at your hips, giving them a squeeze as you slant your lips over his.

“I’m almost done with it all, I promise” he repeats but you shake your head as you stand up.

“Nope, now. Come on, it’s our day off, we’re going back to bed.” With his hands grasped tightly in yours, you give a tug as you step away from him. He looks torn between following after you and remaining at his desk but with the encouragement of the sultry look you give him, he is quick to jump to his feet, trailing after you as you drag him back to bed.

Cassian was quick to climb over you, trailing kisses along your chest and up your neck as his hands wandered lower and lower. Tugging his head up, you pull him in for a kiss, followed by a small peck to his lips as you shoot him a cheeky grin.

“You missed your chance for any of that this morning when you decided work was more important. You’re here to cuddle with me.” With a satisfied smile as you noted the disappointment on his face, you flip him over and onto his back so that you can slide up against him and rest your head on his chest. Cassian let out a sigh, his arms wrapping around you as he traced soothing circles against your skin. 

“Fine, but I’ll make it up to you later.” He promises you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

*****

The next hour was filled with soft and sweet kisses between idle chatter as you talk about everything and nothing, content in the fact of simply being in the others company. That was until Cassian’s stomach let out a low grumble, bursting the bubble you were in that blocked out the rest of the world.

“Guess that means it’s time to get up,” you said as you kissed him, smiling into it as you both detangled from the sheets.

****

The rest of the morning had flown by perfectly. The two of you had cooked a late breakfast, cleaned up the dishes as you danced around the kitchen together, then decided to head out on a walk into Velaris to pick up some more groceries and browse a few shops.

Once you had arrived home, Cassian offered to put on a pot of tea, leaving you with a deep kiss before he headed off in the direction of your kitchen. With a content smile on your face, you settled into the plush couch that looked out over the sprawling woods behind your house. Curling your legs underneath you, you leant back against the cushions and cracked open the new book Cassian had bought for you that morning.

Quickly becoming entirely immersed in the story, you lost track of time, only noticing how long had passed and that Cassian was yet to return after finally shifting into a more comfortable position.

With a frown, you placed the book on the coffee table as you made your way towards the kitchen. Your frown deepened when you saw it was empty, bar the cooling kettle and the two mugs that Cassian has set out beside it.

Instead of looking around the house for him as you had done that morning, you headed straight for Cassian’s study and found him sat in one of the armchairs, a tall pile of paperwork balanced on the small side table.

Without a word you walked over, kneeling in front of him as you snatched the report out of his hand and set in aside.

“Sweetheart, what- what’re you doing? I need to finish that off for Rhys.” You didn’t reply. Instead, you maintained eye contact from where you knelt before him, pulling your hair away from your face and into a ponytail. A smug feeling spread through you as you watched Cassian sit up straighter in expectation, a coy smirk stretching across his face. “Sweetheart,” his voice had deepened as he watched you pull a band around your hair to keep it in place, “What’re you doing?”

“I just need your attention for a second. Well, a couple of minutes.” You sweetly smiled up at him, letting your eyes widen in a look of innocence that you knew drove him crazy. 

“Now? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Well, if you insist, I’m not going to say no…” You bit back a grin as Cassian leant against the armchair, shifting his legs wider apart to make space for you to kneel between them. You moved closer to him, turning around at the last moment so that your back leant against the chair, his legs either side of you.

“Thanks, love. I’ve been so tense, really needed this massage,” you make your voice sound absentminded, as if you didn’t just set up his expectations purely to have his attention back on you. When he didn’t react for a moment, you wiggled your shoulders, turning to crane your face up as you offered an appreciative smile. 

Your smiled widened as Cassian’s warm, calloused hands came to rest on your shoulders, tenderly kneading the muscles.

“Oh, thank you. That feels really good.”

“That’s alright,” You giggled at the slight disappointment that laced his voice, he was clearly trying to hide the fact that he had been expecting something else from you.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as Cassian continued to work his way along your shoulders until you finally let out a satisfied sigh and pulled away. Lifting yourself up, you sat down in Cassian’s lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you thanked him again.

“It’s fine, I was working though…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But we did say no work this weekend…” Innocence laced your voice but from the look Cassian was giving you, you knew that he knew exactly what you had done. Your innocent smile shifted into one of pure wickedness as you whispered into his ear, “Want me to give you a blowjob to make up for it?”

[sugawhaaa]

how would you feel about writing a Jiung x Fem!Reader fic where her long time boyfriend cheats on her, she goes out to drink with Jiung who's her best friend (and has a crush on her), he finds out about what happened and because they're a little drunk they decide Jiung will help her get revenge and have a little too much fun together ;) it's up to you to decide if reader and bf will stay together and Jiung will be her secret affair OR reader will dump her bf and start a new story with Jiung OR they're scared of what they did and end the friendship or whatever finale you think would suit best the main plot

JIUNG X READER

Strawberry

🍓Warings::smut!mentions of alcohol!mentions of abusive relationships!

🍓Pairing::switch!jiung x switch!fem!reader

🍓Genre:: multiple positions, cream pie, some food involved, blowjob, handjob, praise, hair pulling, degradation, orgasm denial, he calls you a slut like...a few times but not much, squirting

🍓A/N:: I'm so close to 3k and I can't believe it like 🤯 never thought my little writing hobby would take me this far...

"So let me get this straight. He had been cheating on you for a few months and he filmed them uh doing it and thought it'd be a good fucking idea to post it?" Jiung said with his right arm leaning on the counter of the bar. You threw another shot down your throat. It burned so good. You put the glass down on the counter.

"Yeah, pretty much," you look into Jiungs big eyes. He shakes his head.

"I mean seriously," he leans back and turns his chair to you. "After like three years of dating and going out all the time he gave up all of you for someone like her?" He said as he gestured to you.

"Yup, she's so fake and plastic like ew," you say as Jiung takes a sip of his margarita. "I gave him everything he ever wanted. Can we go out this weekend? Well, I had plans but sure babe! Can you do the laundry for me I hurt my back at the gym. Sure babe! Can we fuck I'm stressed? Of course babe!" You impersonated his manly voice in a mocking tone. Jiung laughed.

"You know, I never really trusted that guy," Jiung starts as you take a swig of your wine. You shoot an eyebrow at him. "Of course, I was happy for you! You found a guy who loved you as much as you loved him! It was great but after a while, I started questioning him. He had some red flags pop up and I was a little worried," Jiung explained before taking another sip of his margarita. You nodded. It looked like Jiung had one more thing to say so you let him continue. "He even talked smack about me to my face," he said as he lightly spun his margarita.

"Wait what?" You were taken aback. That didn't seem like something your ex would do to Jiung at all.

"It was after Christmas I think. You gave me a more expensive gift than him and he got pissy about it. He said 'Don't try me punk' or something like that I dunno," Jiung shrugged before taking another gulp of his margarita. His Adam's apple flexing.

"Wow, I didn't know he said that...well, I'm glad I spent my good money on you anyway," you said as you crossed your arms. Jiung finished off his margarita.

"So, I know now might not be the greatest time but remember how anytime you and him did it there were things you were gonna tell me about it but your ex said not to tell anyone?" Jiung said as he put his glass on the table along with his elbow.

"Well...it might not be for everyone's ears. Why don't we head back to your place, it's kinda getting late," you suggested as you stood up.

"Sounds good," he nodded his head and stood up as well. You chugged the last bit of your wine and paid for all your drinks. Splitting the total between Jiung. You leave the bar and walk to Jiungs Place. You were a little tipsy but not enough to make walking around town a scare. There was some idle chit chat and making you flustered when he'd ask about what you were gonna tell him at his house.

You finally got to his house and leaped onto his couch. Jiung took off his jacket and hung it up as you stretched on his couch. The sweet smell of him filling your nose.

"So, shall we continue our conversation," he smiled as he sat on the couch with you. You huffed.

"Well, he was a little bit of a jerk when it came to sex. Whenever wherever he wanted to do it, it would happen. But if I asked to do it he would reply with some bs like 'Can't you just wait?' But he said in such a rude tone," You complained as you laid down on the couch, barely giving Jiung any room to sit. "Not to mention he had no rhythm," you say with a swing of your hand. Jiung chuckled. "The amount of orgasms I had to fake just to get him to piss off is pathetic," you sigh as you play with your hair.

"Wait what? How do you fake an uh orgasm?" He asked with pink cheeks.

"It's pretty easy really, it's kind of a girl thing," you look at him ignoring his flustered state.

"I still don't get it," he shrugged.

"So when a girl cums she gets tighter it goes like woosh," you demonstrate with your hands how it works. Jiung looks like he understands but is also concerned. "But women can intentionally get tighter, we can control it," you demonstrate with your hands again.

"Ohhh," a light bulb ignites in jiungs head. "So you just do that and act like it feels really good right?" He says as he watches your hands, his cheeks pink.

"Yeah pretty much," you shrug. "Do you have any strawberries?" You ask suddenly.

"Uh maybe? Why?" He answered and watched you get up and go to the fridge. You find the package of strawberries and take them out to the living room. You open the package and lean over the arm rest.

"Open~" you say as you hold a strawberry above Jiungs mouth. He hesitates but he opens his mouth. You slip the strawberry into his mouth and he bites down on it. You pull the stem off from his mouth and clean the juice off his lips. He blushes madly. Without thinking clearly you put your lips against his. Jiungs eyes widened. No words could be spoken. You set the package of strawberries down and break the kiss. Jiung swallows the strawberry.

"Y-Y/N?" He said as he watched you closely. Trying to read your confusing body language. "I...we should talk," he says with a quivering voice, his body shifting.

"I find actions speak louder than words," you hold his cheeks with your gentle grip. You kiss him passionately, adding tongue this time. He moans softly into the kiss. He leans back onto the couch and you rest on top of him.

"I've loved you for so long," he said between kisses. You look up at him slightly shocked.

"You were always a hottie," you chuckle before biting his neck. He moaned quietly as his hand went to his mouth. You slid your hands up his shirt and feel up his abs, tracing each one of his muscles. Occasionally you kiss and bite his neck and shoulders, leaving little marks. His long hands soon followed suit. His hands inching up your stomach. The touch of his cold hands makes your stomach fluctuate. His hands went around your back as you continued to lick his neck. You tug at his shirt. "May I?" You look at him through hooded eyes.

"S-Sure," he blushes and lets you pull his shirt off. You lick his chest down to his nipple. You feel his body jerk up into yours and he pulls at your shirt. You wanted to drag this out, tease him, graze over his cock a few times before actually jerking him off. Edging him until he screams out your name but you couldn't wait. It felt like you'd already been waiting years to feel him inside you.

"Jiung..." you say softly as you remove your hands from him, sitting on top of his thighs. He tilts his head to show you he's listening. "I know how sudden this is but...I'm so horny I can't do this," you whine as you curl up on his chest. He pats your head as he listens to you. "I need you inside me..." you whisper and wait for him to reply.

"Are you sure you want that? This early?" He takes your chin to make you look up at him. You nod with doe eyes. "As long as you're okay with it..." he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. "I don't have any condoms on me though..." he says as he looks at the living room table, the strawberry pack still on it.

"No, no condom it's fine," you shake your head and take off your shirt. He looks at you surprised.

"As long as you're sure..." he seems a bit skeptical but whatever you want goes in this situation. The two of you stand up and take off all remaining clothes. When he sees you take off your bra his cheeks flush. He never thought he'd be blessed enough to see this view. Once prepared you lay down on the couch and waited for Jiung. He crawled on top of you and pumped his cock a few times. "Are you sure?" He asks one last time as he looks down at you, biting your lip.

"I'm sure baby, please, put it in," you whined as you grabbed his hand to stop him from prepping anymore than he had to because all he was doing was killing time. He took a deep breath and agreed to do what you pleaded. You bite your lip and watch as he teases his tip against your soaked folds. You buck your hips slightly in anticipation. He finally slowly slides inside you. You jump and grab his shoulders. He was much bigger than your ex...you felt your walls stretch to engulf all of his length.

You moaned loudly and arched your back. "So deep," you whimper draggily.

"Your so much tighter than I thought," Jiung groans as buries himself inside you. He takes a deep breath. "Can I move?" He asks as he looks down at you.

"W-Wait just a bit longer," you say hoarsly. You took a few deep breaths before nodding. "Okay," you look up at him and wait for him to start. One last deep breath between the two of you rings in the air before he slowly pulls out a bit and ruts back into you.

All the built-up tension between you and him throughout the years was finally being let out and you felt like you could see the light right then and there. He slowly continued to thrust up into you. Slow but consistent. Nothing like your ex but...your ex never made you feel like heaven anyways.

You whimper as he hits that gummy spot buried inside you. Your legs jerk up and a shiver runs down your body. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jiung of course and he continues to abuse that spot. He chuckled and threw his head down.

"Fuck you feel so good," he said raspily as he continued to hit your G-spot. Jiung's speed started increasing and you couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist. He leaned down and kissed you. Your lips collide and tongues interlock. You break the kiss to hoarsely speak.

"I think I'm getting close," you whimper out before biting your lip. You feel your walls tighten around his length but it doesn't slow him down one bit. If anything it persuades him to go faster. You throw your head back and let out an aching moan, your nails clawing at his shoulders. Jiung shakes his head, his platinum hair hanging in front of his eyes. He's unable to move his hair due to his hands being glued to your hips.

One final hit to your g-spot and your body lunges forward. Your body shakes lightly as you cum all over him. He quickly pulls out and sprays his load on your stomach. His arms shake as he tries to hold his body up. You tuck back his hair to see his eyes glistening. You chuckle lightly as your chest heaves.

"I have never," he starts before taking a minute to breathe. "I've never felt so good," he chuckles before placing one of his hands to his chest.

"I can make you feel even better," you say as you sit up. He looks confused before you push him to lay on the couch.

"W-What are you-Ah!" He moans as you put your lips around his tip. You can see the shiver run down his body. "Wait, wait, wait, fuck!" He tries to squirm out of your hold but he ends up moaning and throwing his head back. Your hand is around the base of his cock while the rest is in your mouth. His fresh semen tingled on your tongue. Jiung grabs your hair as you roll your tongue around his sensitive tip. He swallowed hard and whimpered quietly.

You twisted your hand up and down from his base to your lips, bobbing your head as well. Due to all the blowjobs your ex wanted you were basically an expert with no gag reflex. "Y/N-ah, please god," he rambled nonsense as you started going faster. The orgasm he just had hasn't fully settled yet which made him extra sensitive and prone to cumming early. Your goal was to make him cum back to back and by the looks of it, it was going good. He tugged your hair one last time before cumming in your mouth.

You slipped your lips off of his tip and watched as he came on his stomach. Just like he did to you. You smirked and swallowed the semen in your mouth. He threw his head back and relaxed. You licked up his stomach and sent shivers down his spine.

"You little-!" Jiung tried to sound angry at you for not giving him any warning for giving the best blow and hand job but in reality, he was seeing stars. You smiled up at him with some of his cum dripping down your lips. His heart skipped a beat and he sighed. "Don't look at me like that, I'm still gonna get back at you," he said as you laid down on the couch, stretching. "Don't act so coy with me!" He grumbled before picking you up swiftly. He rolled you over on your stomach and you decided to comply with whatever he was doing. He lifted your hips into the air as you grabbed onto the armrest for support.

He spread your folds and licked up your pussy. You jumped and covered your mouth, the sudden motion catching you off guard. You then hear the leather couch squeak as he goes on his knees. He then smoothly pushes his dick inside you. You moan loudly and grab onto the armrest. This new position made every inch of your desperate cunt more sensitive. He started to thrust into you relentlessly. You moaned out mercilessly, it was like you couldn't stop yourself. Every time he thrusted back into you your voice cracked.

"You like that you little slut?" He grunted as he continued pounding into you. You nodded your head with a whimper. "Hm? I couldn't hear you, use your words baby," he smirked. 5 seconds ago he was whimpering beneath you but bow he was in charge of you.

"Y-Yes!" You shouted into the empty living room.

"Anytime you think about running back to that dick head remember this hey?" He snickered before pulling your hair back. You whimpered with a little nod. "How deep inside you I am, how I just abuse your little pussy," he groaned before letting go of your hair, drawing his attention to your hips. Grabbing them to move you up and down his length even faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm c-close," you stammer out as you claw at the couch.

"Your not gonna cum until I tell you," he cooes in his velvet voice that makes your legs shake. At this point he's pounding your G-spot so hard it's moving the couch. You don't know how much longer you can handle this denial and degradation. Tears poke at your eyes, your hair a mess in your face but you're too distracted by his cock buried inside you to care.

"Can I cum!? Please!" You whine breathlessly. Jiung stays silent before finally replying.

"Cum now," he says raspily. He continues to thrust rhythmically as you cum which causes you to squirt all over the couch. You moan loudly before biting your lip. This rush tips Jiung over the edge as well, his cum fills you up as your body shakes. He pulls out of you carefully and you lose all strength in your body. You lay down on the couch and Jiung lays on top of you, hugging you. "Did you just?" He asks in a soft voice. You nod your head.

"Sorry about the mess," you flutter your eyes shut and rest your head down.

"No, no, don't worry about it," he says as he pats your head. He kisses your head and plays with your hair. Jiung looks at the strawberries on the table. He reaches for the package and opens it up. He picks out a strawberry. "Open~" he hums as he holds in above your mouth.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Sewn Into You | tiltreality33 | [167k] Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won't be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family's business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend's couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.

The weekend | words_of_my_own | [92k] They make the bed together, Louis with his clothes on and Harry still naked, and they laugh a bit about it. But Harry is also rather chuffed about the fact that Louis thirstily lingers with his look on his body more often than not. When Harry is dressed too, he walks up to Louis, where he waits by the door. “I wanna kiss you. Is that bad?” He whispers, crowding Louis against the back of the door, leaning in close to his face. “I don’t care about the answer, just do it already.” Louis whispers back and grabs Harry by his neck and pulls him in. ******************** In a universe where Harry's and Louis' respective relationships are idling - without them fully realising it before - they meet at a swinger weekend. Louis is an experienced swinger goer, and even though Harry probably is the most attractive guy he's ever wanted to hook up with at a party like this, he's supposed to be just that: another swinger hookup. Harry has never swinged before and soon finds it slightly hard to distinguish between the want for sexual exploration and the want for one particular guy.

Fight For Us | FallingLikeThis | [11k] Louis isn’t okay. It’s beyond wrong, the way they’re held in a cage waiting to be chosen for mating. It’s the way it’s been all Louis’ life, but he never wanted to end up like this. He’d hoped against hope that he’d present as a beta since they don’t have these same restrictions on them. They don’t have to adhere to their biology. And one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

Ocean Wave Blues | babyhoneyhslt | [49k] After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas. With the help of his alpha-quartermaster Niall, he manages to keep his secondary gender hidden from everyone except his most trusted crew, as he operates under his late Alpha’s name. Captain Payne. Everything changes when his ship is taken hostage by Pirate Captain Louis. To keep his crew, and himself, alive, Harry must play the part of dutiful Omega who’s waiting for his Alpha’s return.

True Colours | Darling28 | [90k] Harry has everything he wanted for now; his own yoga studio in London and hardly any contact with his family. Yes, he's a bit lonely, but that's okay. It's better than having a new participant who disrupts the class with his swearing and brings down Harry's beautifully constructed self-image with his bum in those tight leggings. It's a hard road to self-acceptance and breaking free from the shackles of the past, but Louis is always by his side. Until Harry suddenly wants more and everything is once again on the brink of collapse.

don't be afraid to love (and love again) | localopa | [83k] All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt. As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s. Louis is a boy. He knows he is. or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

[int-writersmind]

Potential Customer

Summary: You work at a record store, bored out of your mind, until Peter Parker walks in and catches your eye. Peter Parker x Reader 

*also I wrote this with the Ps4/5 Peter Parker in mind, but honestly it's generic enough to be any Peter.

Genre: Fluff; Flirting

Word Count: 2k+

When you decided to take a job at So-So Records, you thought it would be like that movie Empire Records where every day would be an exciting romp, well hopefully not a potential job-losing-filled-romp. Unfortunately for you it was much more boring.

Your days were mostly filled with dealing with tourists who were kind-hearted but utterly clueless or pretentious audiophiles who would give you their opinions without even asking you. However, for all your big talk you weren’t that knowledgeable when it came to music, you just liked what your liked and were opened to suggestions (from unpretentious, kind customers of course.)

It was a weekday, you couldn’t remember which, since they all seem to blend together when working back-to-back shifts. You were alone, the shop had a few customers idling around. 

You were at the front counter, elbow resting on the check-out counter, head resting on one hand, the other lazily flipping through a catalog. When the front bell rings, your eyes barely flicker upwards. It isn’t until that potential customer who walked through the front door is standing right in front of you do you finally look up.

“Um, hello?” says the Potential Customer.

“Welcome to So-So Records,” you decide to stand up straight and give your full attention to this Potential Customer. Clueless Tourist or Pretentious Audiophile? “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uh, yeah, um,” The Potential Customer, a mid-twenties guy with chocolate brown hair and amber eyes that complemented, reached into his satchel and pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages. “I’m actually looking for this album? I’ve been to a few other places and had no luck, they all say So-So would be my best chance.”

The Potential Customer, with his slouchy shoulders and tendency to fidget quite often, placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing up and down. Your eyes dart from the hand on the back of his neck to the hand that gives you the notebook. Your gaze lingers a little too long on his long, slender fingers. Strange, you know, but sometimes the most attractive parts of a human were really strange. 

You refocus, eyes skimming the paper, on it was a title and artist, your brain flickers with the passing glance of the cover. “Uh, yeah, I…think we have this, follow me.”

You move from behind the desk, taking the notebook in hand, glancing at the words once more. You lead– 

“I’m Peter by the way, I know you didn’t ask, but still…” You glance back, gesturing to your name tag, as you lead Peter down the aisles of various genres of music. “I actually never been to a record store before, didn’t even know they still existed.”

“I was like that too for a while,” You stop at a section where the older music was located, placing the notebook on one section of records. “Gotta thank the hipsters for making it popular again, even though they are some of the most annoying customers.”

“The only memory of records I have is when my Aunt and Uncle used to play some every so often on the weekends.”

You start to flip through the albums, scanning for the right one, “Do they still find time to play some?” 

Peter sighs and leans against a row of records, looking elsewhere, “No, no, my Uncle, actually…passed some time ago...”

You stop for a moment, fingers pausing, you look in his direction. As if he could feel your eyes on him, he looks up at you. His face, neutral with maybe a hint of sadness. Like he was used to saying that a loved one who must have been important in his life was gone, but also still hurt when thinking about him. 

“Apologies.” You say, not completely happy with the response. How many times had he heard that?

“Don’t be,” Peter crosses his arms, smirks a boyish grin that makes him even more appealing. “It made me think of a nice memory that I forgot about, more memories about Uncle Ben will never not be nice.”

You smile as you return back to searching for the record, “Oh, look I found it! That’s surprising.”

Peter moves closer, hovering over your right shoulder to get a better look, You sharply suck in breath, turning your head to look at him. Peter glances at you, and smiles, “That’s great, kind of a shame though.”

“Why?”

“'Cause it means I have to leave now,” You hand him the record and the notebook, to which Peter plucks it from your hand, looking over the front and the back, while moving away from you. You exhale deeply as you follow behind him.

“Who says you have to go? Unless you have somewhere to go?” You finally say.

“I think I can spare some time,” Peter looks down at his pretend watch on his bare wrist, “Are you gonna introduce me to some music that will change my life?”

“Please,” You laugh as the two of you lazily walk down the aisle, “I’m hardly the last person to do so.”

“Don’t you-” 

“Work at a record store? I know, I know, but I like what I like. Sue me if it’s Top 100.”

The two of you stop at the end of the aisle, you standing at one end of a row of records, Peter moving over and doing the same.

“I guess it’s better than getting made fun of for having an old man's taste.”

“Really? You get hate for having a love for the oldies? That’s some bullshit, especially in a place like New York.”

“Well, when you're a nerdy kid with thick glasses and a love of science, it’s not so cool” Peter flicks through the stack, pulling up an album by a band that was huge in the 70s. 

“Hmm, if you like that group,” You flick through some albums on your side, skimming until you land on the second record by a female-led group from around the same time. “How about this?” You model the record, posing with it, flipping it from front to back. “And…it’s on sale.” You move over to the same aisle as Peter, standing close to him like he did to you earlier. 

Peter takes the record from your hand, “I think younger, nerdier me would have loved this.”

“Younger, nerdier, you sounds like he was such a cutie.” You response. 

“Was?”

You shyly smile back, moving away with your hands behind your back. ”

This was grossly unprofessional, what were your intentions with this potential customer? Making a sale or making a move. You push that thought out of your head, if you were making him uncomfortable or pushing it too far, then he wouldn’t be smirking at you like that. That smile that causes a slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach. 

The two of you continue your walk back to the front, the long way of course. Bobbing and weaving through different aisles, many short, some long. Passing through pop–contemporary and classic, and some RnB, ending up at one end of the store, in the rock section. “What were you like in high school?” Peter asks.

“Quiet, mostly,” You lean against the wall and Peter does the same next to you. “Not too popular but I had friends, spent a lot of time with my art and music teachers, focused on doing little stuff like that instead of more fun extracurricular activities.”

“Huh, yeah I get it, I found some time to do some little stuff to distract myself in high school too. Nothing…too exciting.” 

You inch closer to Peter and so does he, to the point where the two of you bump shoulders. “Oh sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Peter says.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stare at one another, the hum of whatever record you put on earlier lightly plays in the air. The dry smell of the older, original pressings of albums of the past, filling up the room. 

You dart your eyes downward, quickly, towards his lips, before looking away. God, now this was unprofessional. “Shit, sorry.” You move off the wall, but Peter’s hand on your wrist causes you to turn. His touch wasn’t aggressive, or rough, but gentle and light. Like a feather was tickling the underside of your hand instead of his long, slender fingers. 

Ding-Ding!

Both of your heads turn towards the door, a middle aged couple walk in, wonder in their eyes, cameras slung over their head. Clueless Tourists. You and Peter look at one another, before resigning to the situation and finally making it to the front. You, behind the counter, Peter in front, the two records under his arm.

“Hello, welcome to So-So Records, I’ll be here if you need me.” You say to the newest potential customers, as they give you that polite nod, and split off into the rest of the store. Peter places the records on the table, when all of sudden his phone goes off, he opens it and stares intently at the screen. “Something wrong?”

“No, ah yes, no,” Peter says, his head whipping from his phone to you multiple times. “I-God, I hate to do this but I can’ take these right now–”

“You can always come back.” You take the records from the counter, holding them in your hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I close tonight, you can come back later and get them.” You place the records behind you, before looking back nervously. “I mean only if you want, obviously, duh.”

“Duh.” Peter dryly chuckles, glancing once more at his phone. “I really have to leave, but I’ll be back, I promise. It’s a date. I mean, no, not a date, but–”

“I gotcha.” You wink and smile at Peter as he nervously backs up, sneaking in a last look before leaving through the door, with a ding-ding.

God, you can not believe what just happened! Are you some teenage girl whose knees go weak when a semi-attractive guy shoots you a smile? Who’s touch makes your face heat up, even if it’s just shoulders touching, or gentle, kind, fingertips on your wrist?

For the rest of your shift, you did more of the same that you did every day at your job. Helping customers, listening to unsolicited music advice, and a lot of needless flipping through the store’s catalog.

As the day wined down, the sun dipping into the horizon, you made peace with the fact that Peter wasn’t coming back. Whatever, this  is reality not some rom-com where fate will bring the two leads back together at the end.

You also decided to buy your recommendation to Peter as well, you had plenty of copies of it in the store, so if he decides to come back after all, he could get his own copy. 

You pull down the store’s  front gate, squatting down to lock the padlock, pulling it to make sure it was secure, the record under your arm.

“Making away with customers orders I see.”

You turn to face the familiar voice, Peter slightly out of breath, but still as charming as he was this morning. “Potential customer.” You say, standing up, smiling ever just subtly.

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter glances at the closed store, with its darkened lights and gated entrance. “Like really late.”

“Hmm, that’s ok,” You turn to walk down the sidewalk, your head peering over your shoulder, “Walk with me?” 

As you walk down the sidewalk, record held in your arms across your chest, Peter falls in rhythm with you, so close that his hand occasionally grazes your leg. Jokingly you say, “I thought you forgot all about me, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Oh god no,” Pete dryly chuckles. “The only thing I could think about was you, I-I mean coming back here to pick up the records and uh, and also to see you, I guess.”

“Ah, you guess huh?” 

The two of you wait at a crosswalk, before deciding to jaywalk as there were no cars in sight, you make a turn once you get to the other side, on the block that you lived on.

“I was actually coming to tell you that I no longer need that record actually, the one I came in for. It was for a, uh, a project that quickly evolved to…something else.”

“Ok, I see,” Your head turns to Peter and he does the same, your eyes lock on to one another, his face filled with nerves. “You were gonna come all the way back here to not buy something. That’s a first, I would have preferred ghosting.”

Peter laughs again, shaking his head, “No, no, I was still gonna get the record that you suggested to me. Sounds more up my alley anyway.” You stop in front of your apartment building, with Peter placing his hand on your arm to move out of another couples way. The two of you stand in front of the building's metal gates. “But it seems I have to come back during business hours to do so.”

“Or not.”

Peter raises his eyebrows in confusion, as you reach in your jacket’s pocket for a notebook you always kept. You write down something on the paper, using the pen you stuck in the notebook holder, tearing off the page. You place the paper on top of the record and push it towards him.

“No I can't-”

“I’m not giving it to you.” You say, “I’m lending it to you. Listen to it, listen to it again and then…call me, or text me and let me know how it is.” Peter takes the record and piece of paper from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. “And don’t ghost me, it would be a shame if I never get to see-talk to you again.”

“Yeah…it would be…”

“Goodnight Peter.”

Peter says your name, it makes your heart flutter just for a moment when he does so, ‘“Goodnight.” But the two of you don’t leave, you two just stare at each for a little longer.

Your phone rings and you’re forced to look at it.

“My roommate, she gets antsy if I don’t come home exactly when I say I will.”

“I understand.”

You nod and turn to walk into the building. Before you go through the doors, you glance back to see Peter staring at the piece of paper before looking up at you, that same smirk on his face. 

God, you are so unprofessional.

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

Read Part 2 -> Hanging on the Telephone!

Oh my goodness this is my first fic on Tumblr! Please be kind and comment if you like, like if you prefer, reblog if you're like that, I won't judge. Always open for suggestions and to ~virtually~ meet others! I'm so new to this and I know I'm currently talking into the void but, whatever...Bye, thanks if you made it this far!!!

masterlist

[thought--bubble]

She is Happy Now Part (1/5)

Modern Aemond X (Ex Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,816

She is happy now Master list

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master list

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating, angst, a little bit of fighting.

High-school sweethearts was a term that actually made you sick. You hate the fact that your memories of those oh so important teenage years are tarnished by the memory of him.

Aemond Targaryen. The boy everyone who knew you as a teenager knew was your High-school sweetheart. As well as the man who crushed your heart just a mere 6 months after graduation.

The two of you met freshman year. He was a bit nerdy, and you were one of those alternative girls wearing as much black as possible and begging your parents for a nose ring. You grew super close super fast. All of your firsts were with Aemond. The first time you ran from the cops drinking with friends in the local cemetery. Your first kiss. Your first dance. Your first break up. Your first angsty reconciliation, your first fuck. Everything.

You had been doing well for the past few years, not thinking about him at all. You had graduated from university and started your job as a revenue analyst for Lannister & Co. You had a sweet, kind boyfriend in Cregan Stark. Everything was going well for you. Until you got that invitation.

You had been invited to the wedding of Aegon Targaryen and Cassandra Baratheon. Two people you loved very much and were incredibly happy for. But you under no circumstances wanted to go to any type of Targaryen family gathering. You may have moved on and are doing well now, but there is still a deep-seated anger that rises in you when you think about Aemond. The idea of seeing him in person makes bile rise in your throat.

You're halfway through your shift. You're excited for it to end. this week has been exhausting, and now that it is finally Friday, you want to just curl up on the coach all weekend and watch mindless TV.

Your phone buzzes in your pocketbook on your desk, and you groan. You know who it is. You have been ignoring her calls all day. You pull your cell phone out of your bag, and just as you suspect, Heleana's name and a photo of her smiling with a butterfly on her finger illuminates the screen. You hit the end call button and shove your phone back into your bag. You know that you haven't RSVP'd to the wedding yet, and she is calling you to try to talk you into going. You hate ignoring her, but you really don't want to talk to her about the wedding and the reasons you don't want to go. It doesn't matter what you say to her because she will know the real reason and she will try to talk you into it.

She doesn't call again that night much to your glee. Your shift ends, and your phone dings with a text message from Cregan, letting you know he is downstairs. You pack up your laptop and throw your dooney & bourke leather satchel over your arm and head out waving to a few co workers as you make your way outside.

When you get out front, you see Cregans black range rover idling and slide into the passengers seat, letting out a long sigh as you reach to buckle yourself in.

"Long day love?" He says while shifting the SUV into drive.

"Yes very" you say exasperated.

"You know, I got a strange call from Heleana today"

Your eyes shot open and you clenched your jaw.

"Hun...." he continued

"Why don't you want to go to Aegon's wedding?"

"I just don't want to, there doesn't always have to be a reason for everything. Sometimes the answer is just no and everyone needs to accept it " you snap.

"Is this maybe about a certain brother of his?"

You roll your eyes "nope" short, curt responses are all you can muster at the moment.

"Should I be worried?"

This makes you turn your head to look at him

"About what?"

"When someone is over someone, truly over them, they don't harbor this kind of anger"

You open your mouth to respond but can't find the words your looking for.

Cregan releases a sigh

"I'll drop it"

"No Creg. It's OK. Trust me I am completely over him. I just feel like he got away with it ya know? Makes me want to gouge his other eye out. You know settle the score. His brothers wedding would probably not be a good venue for that" you huff.

Cregan laughs. " the best revenge is to show him how much he doesn't effect you. How happy you are now without him. How much better your life is without him."

You sit there silent looking out the window of the car watching the sidewalks fly by.

"If you don't want to go I support that, but I don't think you should miss a good friend's wedding because his brother is a dolt"

You laugh at that "I'll think about it ok?"

He laughs, too. "That's progress, and I'll take it!"

Two weeks later, you are standing in front of your mirror in a baby blue slim summer dress staring at your reflection. You ended up agreeing to go and were confident about your choice until right now. Now that you were actually ready to go, you were feeling nauseous.

"Well daaaaaaamn!" Cregan yelled as he came in the room whistling

"Aren't you just the sweetest little thing?" He took you into his arms and kissed you on the nose. "You ready to go?" You took a big gulp and nodded.

The car ride to kings landing was about 20 minutes. You stared out the window as memories flooded your mind.

"Make sure you record his reaction! I want to see it. He's gonna be so excited to see you!" Heleana gushed over the phone

"Oh I will, I have never come to visit him at school before so this is going to be epic. OK I'm at his dorm building I'll text you later"

You hung up the phone entered the building and made your way up to room 3F. Where you always addressed all your letters.

You get your phone ready, turning the recording function on and knock on the door.

No one comes to the door, so you knock again a little louder.

Aemond swings open the door

"What man. ....." he freezes. Sweat on his forehead and a blanket wrapped around his waist.

"Hey baby, what are you doing here?" He asks you with a look of utter terror on his face.

You freeze. You can feel your heart beating in your throat. You don't say anything and just push passed him into the room. You see an older black haired woman naked with a sheet wrapped around her, trying to tiptoe her way into the bathroom.

Your legs start to shake and your stomach lurches.

"Shit! Baby, Hold on let me explain"

"Oh, ummm. Nope. No thanks." You push passed him back out of the room.

He grabs your arm "wait please give me just one second"

You swat his arm away "do not fucking touch me. Forget my name. Loose my number. I no longer exist to you." You're not yelling or screaming. This all comes out as more of a growl.

"Love?"

"Huh" you shake your head.

"Hey, we're here." Your stomach lurches, and your palms begin to sweat as you reach for the latch to open the door.

You both get out of the car and he comes around to your side and wraps his arm around your waist.

"We can sit in the back ok?"

"Yeah sounds good"

You enter the grand Sept to see a septa urging people to the left or right side. Left for guests of the groom and right for guests of the bride. You go to the very last row on the left and slide in.

People finish filing in, and the music starts. Cregan is at the end of the aisle with you beside him. First, the flower girl, Jaehaera heleanas's daughter, with her husband gwayne and then the ring bearer Jaehaerys , her twin brother. Then the grooms men and bridesmaids. The first pair is Cassandra's sister Floris with Aegons brother Daeron, then Heleana and Gwayne, followed by Cassandra's other sister Maris and Aegons long term friend Criston Then your face starts to heat up, and your stomach tightens as you see that stupid head of shaggy silver hair enter the room with his arm linked to Ellyn Cassandra's other sister. You immediately look down, not wanting to make eye contact.

They pass by your row, and you finally raise your head, seeing just his back now as he makes his way up the aisle. He takes his place, and you turn your head back to the entryway, seeing Aegon standing there with a huge smile plastered on his face. You can't help but smile. He was such a fuck boy in High-school and college seeing him so happy and proud to be getting married now was such a beautiful thing. You chastise yourself for almost skipping such a wonderful occasion. He makes his way up to the altar, and your eyes only follow him halfway there before turning around to look back at the entryway. Once the wedding March starts to play, you see Cassandra. She is in a beautiful white flowing wedding dress adorned with pearls with a beautiful veil that goes down her back and to the floor trailing behind her. Her father borros has his arm linked to hers and is walking her up the aisle to Aegon, and she has this huge smile plastered to her face.

"Would you want to get married in the grand Sept or on the beach?"

"Anywhere, as long as I'm marrying you " Aemond leans in kissing you softly.

"I'm serious! " You squeak hitting him with a pillow."I want to have it all planned out way ahead of time"

"Then plan it out, baby. Because no matter where it is, I'll show up to marry you"

Your eyes are watering through the rest of the ceremony. You keep your gaze locked on Aegon and Cassandra making sure to not look at the members of the wedding party at all.

Aegon and Cassandra kiss and everyone stands as they make their way out of the grand Sept to cheers and well wishes. Behind them the wedding party starts to filter out and on instict your turn your head and for the first time since your surprise visit to his dorm you make direct eye contact with Aemond. His good eye staying glued to you until he walks passed you and out of the Sept. Your stomach feels cold and your palms are sweaty.

And standing there wracked with nerves you think to yourself that you still need to make it through the reception.

A/N: I have a pt 2 for this almost ready to go. Just fixing it up a little. :)

Part 2

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[starboyshoyo]

Departure

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: angst, mentions of alchohol and parties

Warnings: Angst, longing

After you leave the world of Twisted Wonderland, what happens next? Your presence fades from the world and no matter how hard your former lover tries to remember, they can’t seem to figure out what they’re missing.

When Riddle Rosehearts gets off of a long shift at the magical hospital, he opens a creaky door to a lonely, empty house. He takes off his work clothes, back aching and shoulders tired, and sets a pile of paperwork down on his kitchen table. No matter how hard he works, there’s always more to do- no reprieve in sight. 

Riddle thinks there used to be someone to help him take his coat off, back when it was still a red-and-white school uniform. Their hands were soft when he held them, body warm when they snuggled up together in the night. But when he tries to picture their face, there’s nothing but fog. Maybe he should go to sleep. When he wakes up, he’ll rationalize to himself, and shake off the doubt. It must have all been just a dream. 

When the lights go out in the Kingdom of Hearts, the glow from the Clover family’s bakery is the only source of warmth for miles around. Trey Clover spends hours behind the counters, prepping dough for the next morning and wiping down tabletops- his workload has increased ever since his two younger siblings got married and moved out. He wonders when they’ll begin families of their own, and leave him behind. At least his parents are still here, even if they do nag him a bit. 

When will you find your special someone, Trey? We’re getting older, you know, and we won’t be around forever. We want you to be happy in the future. 

Trey will just laugh, and get ready for dinner. Sometimes he’ll add an extra plate, an extra fork, an extra chair. Where did that habit come from?

The empty spot glares at him from across the table.

Cater Diamond has become a media sensation since he graduated from NRC. He has a whole new Magicam account now- it’s labeled under a brand name with glamorous photos plastered across the feed. Cater playing guitar on stage, Cater eating dessert at a world-famous restaurant. The pictures are always staged perfectly- lights, camera angle, and the space around him is accounted for. Cater is living the best life anyone could ever ask for. But if you peek a little further in, you’ll find his old account, back from his school days.

 Upon first glance, everything seems as it should be- Cater is still perfectly dressed in every photo, the angle just right- but there’s a weird negative space around him, as if something- or someone- is missing. No matter how brightly Cater smiles, he can’t fill the camera frame all on his own.

Everyone at Rose Kingdom University knows Ace Trappola. The heartthrob, the fuckboy, the one with all the girls. He’ll go to parties every weekend, drunk on strobe lights and warm liquor from someone else’s lips. But every time he takes their hand and allows them to lead him elsewhere, he feels like he’s betraying a person who doesn’t exist. 

Ace can’t seem to lose himself in the moment anymore. Even under the cover of darkness, even tangled beneath sheets and hiding in corners and behind walls, there’s always a phantom gaze he can’t seem to shake off. Somewhere out there, Ace is breaking a heart- and he doesn’t even know who it belongs to.

Deuce Spade never seems to know what to do with hands nowadays. During his time at NRC, he would busy them with various tasks- homework, casting spells, fixing broken things around campus. Feeding flamingoes, baking tarts, waving to his friends- it all seems so far away now. 

Riddle always said that idle hands made for mischief, and Deuce has to agree. These days, he does other things to keep busy- mostly throwing punches to the walls. None of the neighbors seem to complain about the noise. Maybe they’re scared of him. Maybe they’re right to be. Deuce thinks there was someone here before, who would have told him to stop bruising his knuckles and get to studying, but he can’t find them anymore. So he’ll paint over the cracks in the walls of his tiny apartment and in his heart, covering them up without filling them in.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[weemsicallygay]

pushing red buttons

pairing/s: larissa weems x female reader, wednesday addams x enid sinclair (established)

warning/s: not proofread so beware of grammatical errors, just larissa being an embarrassed cutie

(would try to write gn!reader fics in the future, but please do know that i mainly write feminine y/n fics :3 happy new year!)

she heard murmurs, a soft chuckle, and a hand move towards her face to pull her closer. larissa felt annoyed at the interruption of her slumber, only to find the most beautiful angel in her arms with a smile. there she was, covered head to toe in nothing but the sheets and her arms to keep her warm, the rays of the sun dancing on y/n’s head and back like they were giving her a halo. 

larissa smiled at the sight of her lover with her hand on her shoulder and cheek, “hello you..” she whispered into the room. 

“hey beautiful.” she merely whispered back, taking in her lips with a soft lock. 

y/n grinned into the kiss when her hands grabbed her hips and pulled closer, the blanket slightly sliding off their chests, leaving little to no room for larissa’s barely covered body to space with y/n’s naked skin. she sighed as y/n pulled away, her eyes never leaving the other’s face and neither did her hands on her s/c skin. 

the woman found herself drawing small circles on larissa’s forearm as she played with the edge of the sheets, “do you need to work today?” larissa heard her ask. 

she sighed, not one of negativity but one of content as she pulled y/n on top of her. she rests on her arms as the taller woman perches herself on the headboard. 

“not today, not this weekend.” she leaned in to plant a kiss on y/n’s forehead, “why’d you ask?” 

“so it’s not a bad time to ask if we could laze around?” 

larissa grinned, “i don’t suppose we’re forbidden to idling around,” she inched her hands lower to rest on her lower back, leaning closer to place pepper kisses on her shoulders and collar. 

“someone’s in a mood.” y/n teased, fingers dancing on her ivory skin which soon flushed with red in embarrassment and shyness. 

larissa turned away, her eyes fluttering and avoided her wife’s gaze. “it’s not everyday someone wakes up to a fallen angel in her bed.” 

“oh please,” the woman on top howled, “that’s a clever way for you to acknowledge my devilishness.” 

“how could i not, my love?” she pulled on one of y/n’s hands to place a kiss on her knuckles, slowly inching up to her forearm, her shoulders and finally behind her ear. 

“my sweet little fallen angel, oh how charming you are.” 

before the said angel could respond to the praises given to her by her divinely tall other half, multiple knocks were heard on the door; four consecutive knocks followed by a short pause then another set of four knocks echoed into the silent room. judging from larissa’s sour expression, it was clear who the interruptor was. 

the taller woman stared at her office door from her place in the bedroom before she reached to pull the covers on their bodies, “maybe if we stay silent, she’ll go away.” she whispered under the sheets. 

y/n merely gave a breathy chuckle, “you know one of these days, you’re gonna regret disliking wednesday.” 

larissa rolled her eyes, “until that day comes, i just want peace and quiet with my lovely wife.” 

the knocks grew significantly louder, a muffled “i know you’re in there principal weems.” was heard from the other side of the door. y/n laughed at the sound of the young addams persistently wanting to catch their attention, definitely not at larissa’s frustrated pout. 

she leaned down to place a chaste kiss on larissa’s lips, “you go on and see what she’s up to, i’ll be in the bathroom if you need me.” 

as soon as she tried to get up from her place, she heard a whine escape the taller woman’s lips. her body was frozen in place as larissa kept her hold tight.

“you’re really going to leave me to deal with her consequences and not offer to let me shower with you? just how cruel are you!” 

“alright, alright. how about you go talk to her and i’ll wait here on the bed instead.” 

with the encouraging sound of wednesday, and apparently enid, yelling from the door, larissa finally sighed and let go of the woman’s hips. she leaned forwards to sit up, her lips on y/n’s as she blindly maneuvered her hand to grab whatever clothing was on the floor from last night’s shenanigans. 

without looking, her hands moved through the smooth material and felt buttons. the buttons on the shirt she pulled now haphazardly put on, she moved to achingly leave the bedroom and quickly strided through the doorway and beelined towards the office door. larissa finally opened it to reveal two of her headaches (one not so much, just more of an accomplice) just enough not to show the open bedroom door and her legs, only her upper body. 

“miss addams, miss sinclair,” she smiled in greeting, “it’s 6 in the morning, what are you two doing up and what do you want?” she didn’t mean to sound harsh, but given the circumstances, she had every right to be exasperated. 

enid grinned, albeit awkwardly, “good morning principal weems! we were actually here to ask if you could drive us to jericho?” 

larissa furrowed her brows, “first of all, why on earth. second, it’s too early, come back later. and third, what are you up to?” 

her eyes were focused on wednesday, as if directing the questions to her. the addams girl was eerily silent, though her usual piercing gaze was ever so present. the werewolf next to her happily answered the questions, desperately trying to end the awkward staring/glaring session her principal/mom-figure and roommate were having. 

“number one: there’s a major book sale ongoing at simply booked and the flea market. number two: we’d happily come back later but we’re afraid that we won’t reach in time since the store closes earlier during weekends. and third, we plan on having a date at the diner afterwards.” 

wednesday finally spoke, “it’s not a date, it’s a brainstorming session about our chosen novels over coffee.” 

“same thing!” enid bickered. larissa found her glare softening, if anything she saw both y/n and herself at the two. 

“alright,” she sighed, “come back in two hours. the bookstore doesn’t close until 4 and you’ll have more than enough time to do what you want without breaking the rules. now please, go back to your dorm.” 

larissa received a thank you and a nod from the pair, sighing deeply and moving to close the door. except she didn’t, she froze. the voice of wednesday piercing the comfortable silence.

“i didn’t think you liked wearing red silk shirts, principal weems.” she tilted her head in curiosity. 

the principal gave a soft “what?” and peered down, before groaning and blushing softly. she was right, it wasn’t common for larissa to wear anything but gray, silver, and white. the splash of color was so obvious, no wonder wednesday was so eerily silent earlier. 

“i.. y-yes.” larissa cleared her throat, “i was thinking of adding color to my wardrobe and red seems like a fitting choice.” 

the girl merely hummed a response, giving the principal one last look over before catching up to her roommate. 

larissa found herself stumbling behind the door, hurriedly closing it and resting herself to deeply breathe in and out. her hands slowly inched to feel at the fabric on her body, how she failed to realize that she was wearing something brilliantly bright was beyond her. pulling the fabric closer by the collar, she sniffed. the scent of cedar wood and jasmine tea filled her senses and concluded her suspicions, the smell itself made her automatically walk towards the conjoined bedroom. 

peacefully did her wife sit, reading a physical copy of dracula with her upper body shining underneath the sunlight, barely covered with the thick, dark gray duvet. y/n moved her face to look at the source of sound, her eyes lagging behind to finally take a good look at her wife. 

“oh dear lord,” she stifled her laughter with her hand, the book now discarded on her lap. 

the tall principal was standing there, her face as red as the shirt she was wearing with her long, ivory legs out for display. she grumbled, her face in her hands as she moved closer to the bed and plopped on it. 

her hands moved to cover herself from the harsh cold of the morning and pulled her still laughing wife into her arms, “not a word.” 

y/n, who was now holding a hiding larissa, guffawed. “wednesday pointed it out, didn’t she?” 

“i said,” larissa peeked her head from the duvet and covered y/n’s smiling mouth with her hand, “not. a. word.” 

y/n merely laughed harder at her words.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Deuce Spade Bloom Birthday Voice Lines

When Summoned: Keep your eyes on me. I'm gonna keep working hard to become an awesome mage!

Summon Line: You think this looks good on me? Thanks. Wearing something formal like this has got me feeling real determined. I'm gonna show just how much I can grow!

Groooovy!!: I worked hard at my extra flight practice just for today. Just watch, I'm gonna fly so good!

Home: I can't believe I get to wear this super awesome mage attire...!

Home Idle 1: For a while, I thought it was stupid and just for kids... But I guess I do really get a special feeling when blowing out the candles on a birthday cake.

Home Idle 2: It really is hard to pick a present that suits the person you're giving it to, huh. I'm real bad at that, so I really look up to people who can.

Home Idle 3: Jack said that he accidentally bought extra drinks, so he gave me one. Does he really seem like the guy who makes that kind of mistakes?

Home Idle - Login: I'm real happy that my buddies remember my birthday. Obviously you all would, you say? Well, it still means a lot to me.

Home Idle - Groovy: To be able to defend against Draconia-senpai's magic... I've set such a crazy-high goal, so I gotta work harder!

Home Tap 1: All my classmates kept saying happy birthday to me, so when a professor wished me well, I accidentally just said "thanks" way too casually...!

Home Tap 2: Diamond-senpai gave me a phone holder to use on a magical wheel. I'll show you if I get a real cool video.

Home Tap 3: How's my broom look? These bright blue decorations are gonna make me look like I'm one with the sky, it's gonna be awesome!

Home Tap 4: Epel's present for me is... Woah, mods for a magical wheel!? Reminds me of home.

Home Tap 5: This outfit makes me feel like an accomplished mage. Obviously, I'm not gonna just be satisfied with wearing this outfit.

Home Tap - Groovy: Wanna ride on the back of my broom? I got this fancy broom now, so we should go for a spin over the sports field!

Duo: [DEUCE]: I can't believe I'm getting birthday wishes from you, Draconia-senpai! [MALLEUS]: Allow me to bestow upon you my blessing, Spade.

Birthday Login Message: Thanks for the birthday wishes! Birthdays are super fun, but time goes by so fast. There's not enough time in one day to enjoy it. Oh yeah! Do you want to go into town next weekend? I'll treat you to something good as thanks for today. You don't gotta hesitate or nothing. I have this coupon I get to use during my birth month! Ah, but it's only for two people, so don't tell any of the other guys.

Requested by Anonymous.

[chcrryade]

⠀⠀⠀ ┉ ┉ ⠀YOU’VE GOT THE BASICS, sure. But do you really know the seven? How they got here, all that they’ve been through up to this point? No, I didn’t think so. Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. Thank me later.

your seven pack soda contains . . .

Doyeon is kind, compassionate, full of the quiet kind of confidence. Mostly free of any stains on his personality that the harsh reality of the idol world may have left. He means well, most of the time, even if he doesn’t always express that in the best way—too full of urgency to want to wait for change to happen, for people to improve. He’s impatient even with himself, even, desperate not to fall behind. Doyeon doesn’t quite think of himself as the leader the other six want, but he’s trying his best just to simply be the one they’ll come to need.

Born in February 1998, to a nowhere town in Daejeon, Doyeon had a relatively quiet life while he was growing up. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, where people met up on the weekends in town halls or community centres to share coffee and cake and pour over puzzles, make idle chatter about nothing in particular. There was hardly anything to get excited about, but Doyeon didn’t really mind at the time. He liked spending his afternoons playing with his brother in the singular park, or helping his mother with dinner in the kitchen. He didn’t really need much entertainment to keep him happy in his younger years, and was perfectly content as he was.

Or at least, so he thought he was. The restlessness started to fester inside of him around the age of thirteen, and it was a slippery slope from that point onwards. He’d seen every single movie they were showing in their lone cinema more than twice over, had tried every possible position he could manage without hurting himself on the rusting swing set in the tiny park (at one point he could hook his legs over the bar at the very top and let himself hang, all of the blood rushing to his head—using it more like a gymnast than a bored child would), and was starting to get sick to death of all of the jigsaws he was made to help with every weekend. He felt a little lost for a while, drifting from mindless hobby to mindless hobby and starting to get frustrated when nothing seemed to stick. He was just sort of.. Stuck still on his feet, floating around with no real end destination in sight. Retreating into his shell, keeping his head down—that was, until he saw a rerun of Inkigayo playing on the old television strung up in the corner of their one café, and then all of a sudden he had a brand new dream, a brand new thing to strive for.

He found it was more the dance aspect of the whole idol gig that interested him the most, and so he enrolled himself into a few classes in the next town over the second he found the chance to. Dancing was all he did for the next few months, practically consuming him body and soul. On the way home from school; following whatever rhythm he could make up in his head, whatever tune he could hum under his breath. In his bedroom, diligently following along to the choreographies of his favourite songs and then sheepishly yelling an apology to his mother when she yelled at him for being so loud so late at night. Even while sitting down his feet would be moving, tapping along to a beat that nobody could hear but him. It felt like he had finally found his true calling, and it seemed that on the walk to the train station after a lesson an FNC scout thought so too. Hasty introductions were made, his hand was being vigorously shaken by a larger, slightly sweatier one, and by the end of it he had a business card tucked away into his backpack—an opportunity.

One that Doyeon, of course, took. March 2015, just after his seventeenth birthday, marked the month he made the official move to Seoul to start his life as a trainee. He dismissed his mother’s worries with the assurance that he would call every week, ruffled his younger brother’s hair just to hear his complaints, and left his nowhere town in Daejeon without a single backwards glance. That life, of course, after three years of hard work and an official debut with SLOW MOTION in 2018, would come to a rather sad end a little more than a year later in December 2019. There was no egregious scandal that tanked their popularity or vicious fight between the five members that tore them apart, but instead they just fell flat. Little interest, little sales, little point to keep them together. And so with nothing to do, and not much chance to dance in front of adoring crowds like he’d wanted since he was young, when JAGUAR approached him with an offer of joining a project they were working on in January 2020 he jumped ship almost immediately.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀DOYEON  ( 도연 )

BIRTH NAME⠀KIL DOYEON  ( 길도연 )

BIRTH DATE⠀11 FEBRUARY,  1998

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀DAEJEON,  SK

HOMETOWN⠀DAEJEON,  SK

ETHNICITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

NATIONALITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀FNC  ( 2015—2019 )⠀JAGUAR ( 2020—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀FOUR

POSITION⠀LEADER,  MAIN DANCER

DEBUT DATE⠀19 NOV,  2018⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀JI CHANGMIN

HEIGHT⠀175 CM  ( 5’9” )

WEIGHT⠀56 KG  ( 123 LBS )

Jalen isn’t the type to sugarcoat. His bluntness, no-nonsense attitude to most things, and general unfriendly look tend to deter people at first glance, but after taking the time to break through his walls those people usually find that he’s more fun-loving than they might think, full of passion for the things he loves. Lack of empathy is another weak point of his, though. If it doesn’t concern him, the group, or his work in particular, then the chances are that Jalen just can’t find it in himself to care. Why would he? He usually has bigger things to worry about.

Jalen was born on a late spring evening in April 1997, to a nightclub-owner of a father and a karaoke-loving and office-working mother right in the very heart of Beijing. Music, dance, and the far-too raucous laughter of the young partygoers drunkenly tottering on the uneven cobbles right underneath his window was something he grew up with, coming to know it like the back of his hand—the clattering of their shoes on the pavement a familiar rhythm in his mind. It grew to become something of a comfort, something that made him feel more unsettled if he hadn’t heard it.

With no siblings around to keep him company, and not that many close enough friends at school to bunk off classes or mess around on the walk home with, Jalen turned to music instead. At first it was just the hesitant accompaniment of his mother whenever she made use of her weekends off to spend a few hours at their local KTV, to sing whatever songs she wanted and have fun doing it, but from there it slowly began to spiral. While he grew to love singing just as much as his mother did, he also wanted to try and make some music of his own. Jalen was mostly self-taught in his endeavours, watching tutorials late into the night and messing around on his phone until he’d made something that sounded right, that sounded good. He began with simple mixes of his favourite songs, a little scared to try anything completely from scratch, but once he felt he’d got the hang of it he started to branch out a little more. He was doing short DJ sets in his fathers club from as early as the age of fifteen in 2012, slipping in a few of his original pieces just to see how well they’d go down.

Becoming an idol was never really part of the plan. He would’ve been happy to work in his fathers club for however many more years he felt he wanted to, until his mother sat him down one day in early 2013 and pointed out to him the fact that he could go so much further if he tried to get deeper into the industry rather that sticking to scratching (no pun intended) the surface of Beijing’s nightlife scene, imploring him to do more than either of his parents had. METRONOME was never really at the top of his list, either, but the auditions were the only ones he felt comfortable enough to aim for, and so on one hot summers day in August 2013 the sixteen-year-old Jalen boarded the bullet train to Shanghai and performed the best he could for the panel in front of him—nothing too elaborate, just a simple song and dance routine that he’d taken the time to learn back-to-front. 

It was apparently deemed good enough for them to take him on, and so with encouragement from both his parents he made the official move to Seoul and spent the next three years training until the eventual debut of ALGORHYTHM in June 2016. They had a successful three year run, but it only took a single member leaving and overall dwindling interest in the pathetic attempt at a last album they put out as a six-piece for the group to be disbanded and for Jalen to be left with nothing to do but make beat after beat on his shitty laptop that he stubbornly refused to upgrade and then make up choreographies for them in his head afterwards—until, of course, JAGUAR gave to him an opportunity in October 2019 that he felt he would be stupid to turn down.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀JALEN  ( 잘렌 )

BIRTH NAME⠀DUAN JIEYANG  ( 段揭阳 )

BIRTH DATE⠀27 APRIL,  1997

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀BEIJING,  CN

HOMETOWN⠀BEIJING,  CN

ETHNICITY⠀CHINESE

NATIONALITY⠀CHINESE

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀METRONOME MEDIA  ( 2013—2019 )⠀JAGUAR  ( 2019—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀FIVE

POSITION⠀MAIN VOCALIST,  LEAD DANCER

DEBUT DATE⠀12 JUN,  2016⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀QIAN KUN

HEIGHT⠀176 CM  ( 5’9” )

WEIGHT⠀60 KG  ( 132 LBS )

Some say Haeil used to be a little louder, but he thinks that’s just based on their preconceived notions of him. He’s jittery, stumbles over too many words in too little sentences and usually ends up just shutting himself up to save people the trouble. Anger comes quick, but regret comes quicker. But when he’s not stuttering or swearing, Haeil really isn’t that bad of a person to be around. Always ready to listen, always eager to help. Not your first choice in a crisis, but still someone you could consider keeping around for a little while longer. Not forgotten, just.. Not always there.

Hailing from the middle of Gangnam in the cold month of November 1999, with a cool and confidence-filled supermodel for a mother and a talent agent father with charisma running through his blood, Haeil had grown up in and around the complicated world of the rich and famous. And while his older sister basked in all the spare attention they naturally got as a result, Haeil wasn’t as keen. The constant cameras flashing made his eyes sting, the microphones occasionally shoved in his face on the way to school or on a simple walk to the store by eager reporters with leering grins on their faces as they asked him—a child, barely eight or nine or ten or whatever age he was when they did it—how it felt to have such influential figures for parents made him want to turn and run all the way back to his bedroom, and the general feeling of being watched everywhere he went made his skin crawl, made his stomach turn, made him want to lash out and start screaming and yelling and stamping his feet until all fell quiet around him. 

But, as it turned out, he wasn’t aware of how good he had it. January 2010 was when his life—in his words, as overdramatic as it sounds—came crashing down before him, so fast and so easily it felt like a blur. One minute he was stopping in the quaint convenience store before his train to school to pick up some lunch, and the next he was standing stock still before the newspaper rack staring at his own mother’s debauched face, cheeks streaked with ruined makeup and mouth open in an angry scream at whoever was taking her picture. ‘Model caught in cheating scandal,’ read the fine print underneath, and then he was tearing a copy out right there and then, racing to the pages that held the full story, and reading it until his eyes went fuzzy. And then he was standing to his feet, numb, buying the paper and running all the way back to his bedroom, reading the same words again and again and again until he could remember them even when his father burst into the room and snatched it from his hands, until his sister was sat by him on the mattress and telling him that it would all be fine soon. 

All the cameras, all the microphones, and all the reporters only seemed to get worse after that, multiplying tenfold. His mother was nowhere to be seen, his sister not revelling in the attention so much as she now despised it, his father was a shell of the naturally-confident man he used to be, withdrawing into himself completely, and Haeil himself wanted to scrub his own life off of his skin, out of his veins, and start all over again. That chance seemed to come only a year later, May 2011—on the tube to school, of all places, where the METRONOME representative that had spotted him had to tap him on the shoulder three times to get him to take his headphones off before he handed him a business card and asked him; “Would you like to be an idol?”. It looked like the one-way ticket to have his name be associated with something other than his mother, and so Haeil felt he could do nothing but agree in a half-daze.

The chance lasted for a while—three years, to be exact, after his five years of vigorous training. It all turned out to be useless after ALGORHYTHM fell to the wayside, after the six-piece fell into the deep end. He had wanted to be known for something that wasn’t his mother, but all that got him was then being known for being in the group that couldn’t cope after the departure of a singular member. Haeil was desperate for a third chance, another opportunity to prove himself, and so when JAGUAR approached him at the same time they did Jalen—October 2019—he couldn’t say yes fast enough.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀HAEIL  ( 해일 )

BIRTH NAME⠀JEON HAEIL  ( 전해일 )

BIRTH DATE⠀15 NOVEMBER,  1999

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀GANGNAM,  SK

HOMETOWN⠀GANGNAM,  SK

ETHNICITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

NATIONALITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀METRONOME MEDIA  ( 2011—2019 )⠀JAGUAR  ( 2019—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀SEVEN

POSITION⠀LEAD VOCALIST,  LEAD RAPPER

DEBUT DATE⠀12 JUN,  2018⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀GOO GUNIL

HEIGHT⠀172 CM  ( 5’8” )

WEIGHT⠀53 KG  ( 116 LBS )

Chances are that if you’ve met Yijun, you probably don’t like him. And that’s perfectly fine with him—he probably doesn’t like you either. Practically unrecognisable from the awkward, shut-off, unsure boy from his predebut days, the Yijun of now is intentionally abrasive, provocative in every way. Always ready for a fight, although he makes sure he never starts them himself—he takes pride in pushing people to their limits, getting them to blow up first and leave his hands clean from blood. There are times when he’s nicer, softer, but those are few and far between and so hard to reach that some just give up trying altogether.

Born in the busiest part of Chongqing in January 2001, as the youngest to two older sisters and a branch-manager mother too busy for her own good, Yijun didn’t have heaps in common with any of his own family growing up. His friends from school were perfectly fine, but it was all skin-deep. None of them ever wanted to hang around when classes were over, or go to the cinema when the latest flick came out, or hit the shopping streets whenever they had a little bit of pocket money to spare on the weekend. He was left to his own devices for the majority of his younger years, and so more often than not that translated into him being led awake at three in the morning with his phone propped up on his pillow while he watched music show reruns all night, eyes never once leaving the perfectly choreographed groups as they performed.

Rap in particular was always something Yijun was interested in. It was a genre that stretched far beyond his imagination, and he wanted to learn about every aspect of it: how to go fast, how to slow it down, how to keep a beat and make it sound good at the same time. How you could mumble, words barely intelligible, and still make something worthwhile—however niche the audience for it might’ve been. He liked it so much he wanted to try it out for himself, bit by bit, putting all that he’d seen and heard into practice. It was always in the quiet confines of his bedroom, always with only himself as the audience to listen to whatever words came out of his mouth, but it was still rap, and slowly he began to find his own rhythm, figure out a flow of his own.

He practised until he thought he was good enough, took to taking any free sample beats from SoundCloud that he could get his hands on and rapping over them, uploading them onto his own account even if a grand total of 12 people ever bothered to listen. He practised and practised and practised until a calm summer day in July 2016, when he was sitting waiting for his bus after school and a poster caught his eye. It was a little old, clearly having been there a while and also having suffered through the many weathers of his city, but the writing was still legible. JAGUAR AUDITIONS, in faded black, with the times and dates written underneath. And while Yijun had never really been into anything spiritual, nor the ‘divine interferences’ his oldest sister seemed to be so obsessed with, it was as if it had been sitting there just waiting for Yijun to find it, and he wasn’t going to do such a thing as to ignore such a glaringly obvious sign as that one.

So he skipped school one early autumn day in September 2016, caught the train armed with only his phone and the clothes on his back, barely having enough money for a train ticket, and walked into the auditions room like he owned the place. From there all he had to do was wait for his turn in line with all of the other hopefuls and pray he didn’t forget all the words to his intended audition song, pray he was able to put all the things he’d learned in the time leading up to that very moment to good use. When his turn finally arrived he looked them all dead in the eyes and hoped they couldn’t tell how anxious he was, trying not to lose his nerve before he opened his mouth.

By some miracle, it was enough to convince them, and he was packing up all the things necessary to make his move to Gangnam as soon as possible. His mother accompanied him on the plane ride over, gave him a short hug for the first time in what felt like years, and then he was left to his own devices all over again—only this time he had a routine to stick to, alongside all the other hopefuls that were just as desperate for a chance to debut as he was. Yijun was practically over the moon when he was picked to be in a group named BONSOIR, with three other trainees he’d grown to cherish, but all that excitement disappeared after the sudden (and completely unwanted, on his part) addition of Jaehee in December 2018—a blatant outsider, someone that, to him, didn’t fit in with the rest in the slightest. He didn’t care all that much about the article in March 2020 that was known to many as the one that led to BONSOIR’s downfall because, to him, BONSOIR wasn’t the group it was intended to be at all if Jaehee was there. He also wasn’t the happiest when, shortly after the five-piece officially disbanded in May 2020, he was given the offer to join the growing lineup for CHERRYADE, but he did it anyway—if only to terrorise Jaehee just a little more.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀YIJUN  ( 宜君 )

BIRTH NAME⠀QIAO YIJUN  ( 喬宜君 )

BIRTH DATE⠀26 JANUARY,  2001

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀CHONGQING,  CN

HOMETOWN⠀CHONGQING,  CN

ETHNICITY⠀CHINESE

NATIONALITY⠀CHINESE

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀JAGUAR  ( 2016—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀THREE

POSITION⠀MAIN RAPPER,  CENTRE

DEBUT DATE⠀22 OCT,  2019⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀ZHONG CHENLE

HEIGHT⠀176 CM  ( 5’9” )

WEIGHT⠀58 KG  ( 128 LBS )

Minhui has a permanent grin on his face, spontaneity running through his veins. It might get a little overbearing, but if people just ran with it he’d become pretty easy to deal with. He’s bursting at the seams with ideas, overly restless from the years of not being able to put them to use. Prone to disappearing, to egging on any budding fights he sees, always making sure to take the side he usually knows full well is in the wrong—because he thinks it’s fun. Maybe not a particularly trustworthy person, with how flighty he is, but he’s certainly a fun time.

On a sticky summer night in Chiang Mai was when Minhui was born, June 2002. Despite his Thai hometown, he was born to two Korean parents (an eccentric traveller of a mother and a stay-at-home father who would willingly follow her wherever she wished to go next), and grew up having to juggle between speaking one language at school and with his friends and another at home, with his family. This didn’t last forever, though, because in February 2010, at the age of eight, their family of four (extended by the original three when his younger brother was born, when Minhui was seven and very much against the prospect of having to share a home life with a screaming, wiggly little thing he’d have to call his sibling) packed up and moved to Yangsan, in a country that was technically his homeland but didn’t at all feel like it to him at the time.

Yangsan lasted for barely a year. Just when he’d been settling in properly, learning how to talk like the boys at his school did, how to leave his tie loose around his neck like they did, how to act like they did, they were handing in their final rent payment and making the move to Jeonju. And just when he was finally making closer friends, getting to know the twists and turns of their small neighbourhood like the back of his hands, they were packing up yet again, and Suncheon was his newest home at the age of eleven. He almost didn’t dare to breathe, worried to say a singular word to any of his classmates in fear he’d get told the very next day that they had a new apartment waiting for them in another city—and he was right for it. Ulsan came just a month before he turned twelve, May 2014, and it was there that he and his family—the only people that hadn’t changed over the years, his meek father and over-the-top mother and irritating younger brother—finally settled.

So he let himself adjust, let himself settle in. He made friends, got comfortable, and soon it felt just like he’d been there since the day he was born all over again. Minhui’s days were spent joking and laughing and play-fighting, slipping out of the school gates before the first bell rang to the nearby arcades and basketball courts and crowding up against each other with someone’s phone propped up on a park bench as they tried to learn the latest choreographies to their favourite songs, and then lying through his teeth with a smile back home about all the things that he was supposed to have learnt that day in lessons. His audition came about in a similar way—it was a mild April afternoon in 2015, while he and his friends were bunking off, wandering through the city streets, and one of his friends saw a sign advertising walk-in SM auditions, hitting Minhui on the shoulder to grab his attention. “I dare you to try it out,” was what he said, and Minhui was never one to back down from a dare. It seemed that his mostly-freestyled dance routine to a popular boy group song he just couldn’t seem to get out of his head was good enough for the panellists sitting in front of him, because the next thing he knew he was being told he should be expecting a callback. What followed came in what was, to him, mostly a blur—the goodbyes, the moving into dorms, the practice, day in and day out. The eventual August 2016 debut.

He was perfectly content there, happy with both his members and his group and all the multiple subunits he was given the opportunity to debut within—until he just.. Wasn’t, anymore. Minhui himself didn’t even really know what changed, but what he did know was that he just didn’t feel right there anymore. Didn’t feel like he quite fit in with the rest. So when JAGUAR got in contact with him around July 2020 requesting his presence in a lineup for a group set to debut in August 2021, it was all he could do to agree. He doesn’t regret a thing, and would make the exact same decision even if he was given a chance to go back.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀GOGO  ( 고고 )

BIRTH NAME⠀HWAN MINHUI  ( 환민희 )

BIRTH DATE⠀16 JUNE,  2002

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀CHIANG MAI,  TH

HOMETOWN⠀CHIANG MAI,  TH

ETHNICITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

NATIONALITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀SM  ( 2015—2020 )⠀JAGUAR  ( 2020—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀TWO

POSITION⠀MAIN DANCER,  LEAD VOCALIST

DEBUT DATE⠀25 AUG,  2016⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀YEOM TAEGYUN

HEIGHT⠀176 CM  ( 5’9” )

WEIGHT⠀54 KG  ( 118 LBS )

Jaehee was just a boy trying to get people to remember his name, and that want was what ended him up where he is now. It’s not every day a washed-up extra makes the decision to jump ship into the idol industry, and sometimes he feels he would’ve been better off with an instruction manual. Jaehee is someone a little desperate for approval, needing to please. He’s nice enough, but he’s also very touchy, temperamental, quick to tears and bursts of childish anger that he’s often too stubborn to properly apologise for—but he probably wouldn’t even if he wasn’t that stubborn, because he thinks they’re all perfectly justified.

Suwon was where Jaehee was born, in the month July 2002. As a child he only had his mother, his father having parted ways with the two of them in exchange for a new job in America. He was content with just the two of them until April 2009, when his mother had apparently decided she wanted someone new in the picture. She remarried in the spring, and he was suddenly having to make nice with his new older step-brother and younger step-sister, as well as his step-father. It was a hard change for Jaehee to get used to, and more often than not he felt left out, isolated from the new family of four as the forgotten middle child. He started to retreat into himself more from those years onward, only really leaving his bedroom for school or for the odd errands he was being made to run. There was nothing much to do except watch dramas and movies all day, and it was then that he gradually began to come to the realisation that he wanted to try it out. The idea of pretending to be a different person, even if it was only for an hour or two in a school play or make-believe scenario with only himself involved, was something Jaehee found he liked the idea of quite a bit.

He began acting by joining the drama club in school, and threw his all into it immediately. There he wasn’t the quiet Jaehee, the one that barely greeted his mother and step-father when he got home before rushing up to his room and kicking the door shut behind him, not coming out until dinner, but instead he could be the sociable one, the one that greeted everyone with a smile and always had friends hanging off of either arms, conversation flowing like second nature. He first got asked whether he wanted to be a real actor in January 2015, after a scout had been sitting in the audience of one of their school plays, and couldn’t be happier about it. From there it was a lot of forms and paperwork and older, far more important people than the talent scout he’d first been in touch with asking about where he wanted to go with his career, and him having to leave all of his school friends behind to enroll in a proper acting school, and lessons on etiquette and respect and a whole number of other things that made his head spin. Still, he loved every minute of it, and isn’t too ashamed to admit that he cried when he landed his first role—even if it was a minor one, with only a handful of lines, it was a role all the same.

The want for change came around three years later, early 2018. It wasn't like he’d lost any of his love or passion for acting, but it was more that he felt he wasn’t going anywhere. All the roles he landed were background character after background character, extra after extra, and he was starting to get a little more than sick of it. He wanted something different, a complete cleanse. A challenge. That thought process was what led him down a year-long spiral that eventually landed him at JAGUAR in December, where he had to take a moment and ask himself if the life of an idol was what he really wanted.

But, at the end of the day, Jaehee didn’t think it would be too much of a high hurdle to jump over. He already had the whole pretend-to-be-a-different-person act down to a T, and the rest could be learnt and improved on with time, as was the same with any sort of skill. And so he signed the form, began to train, and it was then decided after only a little while he would be officially debuting with BONSOIR in October 2019. Jaehee was wary, aware of the single they’d already released as a four, and for good reason, too—it was like they all couldn’t stand the sight of him, bar maybe Hyeonmin on good days. It was like walking on broken glass barefooted every day with them, and when the article that ripped back the curtain on how he was treated was released he could admit (even if it was only to himself, only under the duvet of his rickety bed in his dorm room) that he was a little relieved. And that relief only grew when he was told he was then going to be in a shiny, new, group—even if Yijun (the one who, without a doubt, hated him the most) was going to be right there with him.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀JAEHEE  ( 재희 )

BIRTH NAME⠀AHN JAEHEE  ( 안재희 )

BIRTH DATE⠀8 JULY,  2002

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀SUWON,  SK

HOMETOWN⠀SUWON,  SK

ETHNICITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

NATIONALITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL,  ACTOR  ( FORMER )

LABEL⠀JAGUAR  ( 2018—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀TWO

POSITION⠀LEAD RAPPER,  VISUAL

DEBUT DATE⠀22 OCT,  2019⠀╱⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀CHOI HYUNWOOK

HEIGHT⠀181 CM  ( 5’11” )

WEIGHT⠀70 KG  ( 154 LBS )

It’s unusual for Hasun to speak up about anything. He’s the fresh meat, the newbie; and acts the part he’s been given, almost always keeping his head down and himself to himself. But that doesn’t mean he’s shy, or the innocent figure the public have painted him to be. For all that he’s not speaking, he’s watching—observing. He’s witnessed his fair share of distasteful things that go on behind closed doors, and sometimes sits and wonders when they’ll become a part of him, too. Wonders if there's an initiation for that sort of thing, for the moment when he does something he won’t be able to come back from.

Hasun wasn’t born into any sort of stardom—far from it, actually, with a mild-mannered librarian father and a mother that passed away a mere few months after he was born into a quaint neighbourhood in Incheon, August 2003—but he was very close to it. His father’s sister just so happened to be the mother of one Choi Yoonhae, who in around 2015 would reach his peak as JAGUAR’s most successful (and only) soloist, claiming his place as reigning king over the quickly deteriorating duo JUST4U. His older cousin was what inspired him to want to be an idol in the first place. He wanted to sing just like him, dance just like him, succeed and soar to heights that at the time felt unattainable just like him.

Singing was where he thought to start. In the shower to instrumentals of his favourite songs, under his breath while studying or doing odd jobs in the library that his father worked at, at the noraebang after school with his friends, belting out the lyrics louder than all of them put together. It was like his lifeline, and he was biting at the bit to be able to audition for JAGUAR. His father finally let him a month after his thirteenth birthday in September 2016, on the strict condition that Yoonhae and his younger sister, Eunhee (who had just recently started to work at the company also) were to watch over him any time they got the chance to make sure he was settling in alright. He painstakingly chose a song to audition with, practised it until he could sing the verses in his sleep (with a little dance to go along with it, a number he did so many times he almost wore out the soles of his favourite trainers), and his father came with him to the audition hall to cheer him on and treat him to hotpot afterwards.

When he finally got the news of his acceptance, he nearly cried out of joy. Despite it being a generally well-known fact that trainee life wasn’t always the best of experiences, Hasun loved every minute of it—turning up to every practice with a grin so wide it looked as if his face hurt from the force of it. Even when he was deemed not the right fit for BONSOIR did he become disheartened. He just kept on going, smiling all the while.

That was, until Yoonhae was found to have taken his own life in his penthouse apartment on a cold morning in November 2018. However much JAGUAR tried to sweep all news of it under the carpet, keep as much press away from it as possible, it still happened. And the worst part of it was the fifteen-year-old Hasun was standing outside the very block of flats the morning it was discovered, Eunhee by his side as they stared on in shocked silence. He almost went through a complete personality shift then, withdrawing into himself completely. There was no sunny smile anymore, and no laughter either.

But despite all of this, the tragedy that had befallen his family and himself, Hasun stayed. It took a good year or so after Yoonhae’s death for it to happen, but he started to gradually improve again, small smiles making their appearances and mood seeming to brighten up, however slowly it was happening. He’s certainly not the same person as he was when he was thirteen, but he’s trying his best to be someone like it.

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀BASICS

STAGE NAME⠀HASUN  ( 하선 )

BIRTH NAME⠀LEE HASUN  ( 이하선 )

BIRTH DATE⠀7 AUGUST,  2003

PLACE OF BIRTH⠀INCHEON,  SK

HOMETOWN⠀INCHEON,  SK

ETHNICITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

NATIONALITY⠀SOUTH KOREAN

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀CAREER

OCCUPATION⠀IDOL

LABEL⠀JAGUAR  ( 2016—PRESENT )

YEARS TRAINED⠀FIVE

POSITION⠀MAIN VOCALIST,  MAKNAE

DEBUT DATE⠀1 AUG,  2021

⠀ഒ˚ ⋆ % ⠀›⠀PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM⠀LEE SOHEE

HEIGHT⠀176 CM  ( 5’9” )

WEIGHT⠀52 KG  ( 114 LBS )

[philistiniphagottini]

omg hihi u write for like everything im obsessed with ?

could I please request for dante and “holding shopping bags that are too heavy for the other” from the prompt list (fem reader) ? i need to indulge the idea of him spoiling me on a shopping spree as if he doesn’t struggle to keep his lights on lmfaoo im totally soft for the man

tyty! 🫶

Oh my god hi! Thanks for dropping by :) I got so excited when I read this and I literally couldn't help myself and I just had to write. Thanks for the request.

Wordless Ways To Say I Love You

43. holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them

this is the dynamic i picture in this story

Dante wasn’t kidding when he said he would take you on a shopping spree. You recalled his exact words: "Shop until you drop, babe." Well, you certainly felt like dropping. You had been at the shopping mall for several hours, browsing through every shop that even caught a hint of your attention. Your boyfriend was more than happy to encourage you along, spoiling you so rotten that you felt your teeth were going to start falling out with how sugary sweet he has been to you, refusing to let you even pay for your own drink.

A wistful sigh blew past your lips as you exited yet another designer clothes shop for the umpteenth time that day. Your feet were starting to ache from the miles you had been walking around in your shoes and your wrists were begging for relief with the amount of shopping bags you held. Your ears were ringing from the countless noises of voices echoing around the shopping district, throngs of children and adults alike scattered in a sea of bodies surrounding you. For the weekend, the crowd wasn’t that bad. Thankfully, you came at a time when there were no important holidays coming up. You could only imagine the nightmarish hellscape it could turn into.

As you lost yourself in a myriad of your own thoughts, you failed to realise Dante sneaking up to you until his cheery voice broke you out of your stupor. Your shoulders tensed before they relaxed when you recognised his familiar voice cooing in your ear.

"Hey, those look heavy" Dante said. "Let me take them off your hands."

You opened your mouth to reply but all that came out was a mild noise of protest as Dante plucked the shopping bags from your grasp. He already had an armful of other bags yet he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed as he added to the pile bundled in his arms. He got a few, quizzical looks from a couple of bystanders passing by but no one seemed to outright question the ridiculous display of strength that he was currently exhibiting.

"I can carry those myself" you argued, placing an idle hand on your hip.

"That’s okay, I got it babe" Dante replied with a smile.

You shook your head, a fond smile tilting your lips as you did a mental count in your head of all the things you had bought today. You took a few steps away from the entrance of the store, Dante following close behind so he didn’t crowd the exit for other patrons. You tapped your chin in thought as a sigh fell from your parted lips. Maybe you went a little overboard today on the spending. You felt a little bad for spending all of Dante’s money when he barely had any to begin with.

"I’m all shopped out Dante" you said with a decisive nod. "I think its time we head home."

"Are you sure? Didn’t you want to get that cute little necklace you saw a few shops ago? You know, the one that complimented your eyes?"

You blanched at that. How the hell did he know that you had been eyeing it? The only reason you had put it back was because the price tag had just been a tad too expensive. It was one of the only things you had said no to during your shopping trip. You swallowed around the awkward lump in your throat as you shook your head.

"I don’t need it. I’ll live."

A small pout tugged at Dante’s lips. "Aww, come on, don’t be like that. Let me by it for you."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Dante, no. You’ve spent enough."

"It’s never enough if it’s for you" he chimed in a sickly-sweet voice.

"Do you even have enough to pay your bills this month?"

Dante shrugged his shoulders, jostling the countless amounts of bags he carried. "Eh, probably? That’s not the point. Come on, let me buy it for you~"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were going to have to start putting this man on a leash just to have some semblance of control over him. You could tell that he was not going to budge and you both could stand here for literal hours arguing back and forth on why he didn’t need to throw his money at you. You didn’t fall in love with him for that reason and he was well aware of that fact. Dante just liked getting you nice things and seeing the bright, beaming smile on your face. You were worth every cent.

"Please?" Dante tried again. "I promise we’ll go home after that."

You huffed loudly. "You’re a lovesick fool."

Dante smiled as he leaned closer to you, his face hovering only mere inches from yours. His blue eyes sparkled playfully, wisps of his snow-white hair tickling your cheek as he grinned.

"Yeah, but I’m your lovesick fool."

Damn, he’s got you there.

"Come on, give me some sugar."

You playfully swatted his shoulder as you leaned up and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, earning you a mix of disdain and adoration from the people around you who just so happened to look in your direction. You could care less about the onlookers. It felt like they all just had faded in the background and all that mattered was the man standing in front of you. Dante pulled away from your cherry red lips with an infectious smile on his face, the twinkle in his eye only intensifying when a pretty dress caught his attention in the window of a shop.

"Hey, that’d look nice on you, pretty girl. Let me buy it for you."

Your shoulders sagged. You’d be lucky if you made it out of here before dark.

[maxislvt]

Teach Me How To Love

Summary: Agatha would love nothing more than to keep you cooped up in her mansion like a pet. Unfortunately, even omegas need to be let out of the house on occasion. Not even she could expect your

Warnings: smut, omegaverse, anal play, blindfolds, alpha!Agatha, public sex, exhibitionism

Author's note: This gotta be the most unethical omegaverse I've ever written in my entire four years of writing fanfiction. I actually heard the gates of heaven close in my dreams.

Growing up on an omega farm prepared you for many things. You learned how to cook, clean, and handle alphas at their lowest. For the longest time, you pride yourself on being the ideal omega. That's all you had. A big number was attached to your name because you knew your place in life. The real world was far different from the little enclosure you'd grown up in. Different in a lot of ways. The real world was big and scary. Alphas with no dignity would do just about anything to get their hands on you. That was a bad difference. 

Agatha was a good difference.

 The real world didn't come with any older omegas or betas to help you get dressed or make dinner for you. The real world gave you Agatha, who paid betas to make you dinner and clean your clothes. Dressing you was a privilege only Agatha got. Helping you get ready for bed was entirely her responsibility. Bathing you, brushing your teeth, and washing your face were her jobs. Then, she would pick out the finest clothes that would keep you comfortable and warm through the night. All you had to do was sit still and look cute. 

Being pampered was amazing, but it made you question your worth. What good was an omega that didn't cook or clean? That was a question you had no answer to and it made you antsy. Agatha had all but banned you from the kitchen and the staff was more than happy to comply. You felt like you were rotting away in the biggest house you'd ever seen. An idle omega was a stressed one, and a stressed omega was unruly. 

Agatha knew that much. She'd rather die than let you have any sort of independence, but a compromise wasn't ever off the table with you. 

"What's the matter, superstar? You're upset." Agatha's thumb ran over the small of your back as she continued studying the documents on her laptop. She watched as you mindlessly nipped and scratched at the pillow beneath you while watching TV. "Come on, tell your alpha what's wrong." A smile spread across her face as you purred and nuzzled her thigh. 

You took a deep breath and inhaled her scent. Affection was a lot better than terrorizing your least favorite pillow. "Mm, I feel useless," You confessed with your face still buried in Agatha's thigh. Even back on the farm, you were never so complacent. Maybe the younger omegas needed help getting ready or older ones needed help with dishes. There was always something to be done. Now you were just stuck laying around all day. "I can't just sit around every day for the rest of my life…I gotta do something." Another long purr came from your throat as Agatha lovingly scratched the top of your head. 

Agatha hummed before she got an idea. "You know, we moved buildings recently and the movers just can't seem to find any of my stuff. I was going to hire someone to redecorate, but I'd love to have your help instead." She squished your cheeks as you perked up. "I don't exactly have a budget or idea in mind, so you can have all the fun you want." 

You were practically vibrating from excitement. "I can do anything I want? Even make my own nest in the corner?" Agatha's nod had you practically screaming with excitement. "It'll be so pretty! I promise you!" You were so enthralled by your new task. You spent the entire weekend putting together Pinterest boards and Amazon lists, totally unaware of Agatha ordering her office to be cleared out for your amusement. 

The following Monday, Agatha woke you up a little earlier than normal to help you get dressed for the day ahead. You certainly didn't approve of her routine, not including breakfast, but Agatha promised to have a big lunch to make up for it later. 

Though Agatha's paperwork had piled high, she found herself adoring the little distractions that came from your presence. Your thoughtful hums and constant shifting of what little furniture she had in her office. She let you have fun until lunchtime rolled around. "Come on, superstar, you gotta get something in that little tummy of yours. I'll order lunch, you take a break."  She patted her lap, signaling for you to sit down between them. 

"Can you order from the fancy sushi place? I like the little green stuff on the side." You wiggled in the space between Agatha's chair and the desk. It was a lot bigger than you imagined it'd be. The smooth glass top gave you a wonderful view of Agatha's face and the panel in front made you feel oddly safe. You were in your own little world. A glass cage for you and no one else. It didn't matter how many alphas or betas walked into Agatha's office, you remained comfortable in your glass prism. It wasn't until a familiar face entered Agatha's office that you perked up. 

Wanda, the woman who initially gifted you to Agatha, had decided to stop by. Crisp black slacks, a partially buttoned red silk shirt, and black high heels to match. She looked professional. Far from the tipsy alpha that had purchased you and had you put in a box as a Christmas present. She smiled and waved at you before looking up to talk to your alpha. Wanda was usually more talkative to you, but someone else made up for her lack of attention. 

Behind Wanda, stood someone a little less professional. The first thing you noticed was the deep red collar wrapped around her neck. Then, you noticed her lack of appropriate clothes.  Her short red hair was a frizzy and uncombed mess, her pajama shorts were a size too small and constantly riding up her thighs, and she had a t-shirt that didn't match and was worn the night before. Sleep had smothered her face, but seemingly disappeared when she made eye contact with you. The smaller woman got down on her knees and crawled right in front of the glass panel. "I didn't know there were other omegas here! Hi, my name's Natasha but you can call me Nat! Can we be friends?" 

Her forwardness had shocked you. You'd never met an omega outside of the farm before, but you were happy. "Hey, I'm Y/N! I would like to be friends!"  You looked up at Agatha and gave her the prettiest pout you could muster, unaware of Natasha doing the same. "Please, I promise to come back for lunch and I won't make a mess!" You purred as Agatha affectionately scratched the back of your head. "Pretty please?"

Agatha sighed and kissed the top of your head. "Fine, but you have 30 minutes and I expect a clean plate after all that running around. Got it?" She slid back her chair and let you run off around the building to explore the building. A content sigh escaped her lips once you left. "Ah, don't give me that look! You gave them to me, what was I supposed to do? Just let them rot in the house all day?"

Wanda chuckled. "No, but it's hard to think that less than a month ago you were shouting at me to take them back and yelling about how unethical it was."  A triumphant hum escaped her lips as she sat down on top of the desk. "You know, my beloved little Natasha could use a role model."

Agatha sighed. Another one of her co-worker's insane ideas that she couldn't say no to. "It better be good or I'm pushing you off my desk." 

Wanda faked offense. "Relax, I'm not saying they have to watch Nat. I'm just saying Nat could use a role model…someone to look up to." She winked at the older woman, hoping she'd catch the hint. 

For a moment, Agatha just stared at Wanda. Then, her brows furrowed in frustration and confusion. She gave herself a few more minutes to think before scuffing and giving up completely. "You and your senseless innuendos, just tell me your stupid little plan!" A frustrated huff escaped her lips. 

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

Even after you finished your little decorating spree, Agatha continued bringing you to work with her. It was the fun you needed. Natasha was always there to come up with silly games and drag you to some undiscovered part of the building or Agatha would give you some small task to do as time ticked by. 

Sometimes those tasks were risky, but that was the excitement of it all. If Agatha pulled down her fly and told you to suck, you would simply have to suck. That's what omegas were supposed to do. She'd go on and on about how you weren't supposed to stop even if one of her employees walked in. You shrugged it off as dirty talk, but it got you excited beyond reason. Fortunately for you, Agatha had always finished before anyone walked in. It wasn't until the day you decided to go slower than you realized she wasn't. 

Agatha had a bunch of your hair in a tight grip.  It was the only way she could control your eagerness. She'd push the back of your skull until you had taken the entire length of her cock down your throat. "There we go, superstar. Take your alpha's cock like a good omega." A string of deep moans came from her throat. "Oh, you're so good for me." She was always liberal with her praise. How could she not be when you behaved so well for her? The sounds of you gagging and struggling to swallow her precum made her throb inside you. "You remember the rules, don't stop until I cum, even if someone walks in." 

You nodded as best you could with your mouth full cock. It was impossible to ignore the slick that practically seeped through your underwear. Agatha had offered you her heel to hump again but you were simply too embarrassed to accept it. Instead, you focused on her pleasure, hoping she'd reward you for your diligence. Unfortunately, Agatha had other plans for you. Someone knocked on the door. Before you could pull yourself off of Agatha's cock, her hand pushed you back down her length. 

"Even if someone walks in," Your alpha said through gritted teeth. Agatha kept her hand on your head until she was sure you wouldn't disobey her. "Come in."

"Harkness, Nat wants to see- oh, well isn't this a nice surprise." Wanda chuckled fondly and tugged Natasha forward by her leash. "Well, go on. Say hi to your little buddy." There was a sick pleasure to be found in Natasha's embarrassment. It reminded her of old times. When she and Agatha were younger and could buy a beta prostitute to let out their aggression on. It was more fun with two omegas no one else could touch. "Come on, we don't have all day. Agatha is a busy woman and your friend's busy." 

Natasha nodded obediently and stepped forward. Her nostrils were assaulted by the smell of slick and her own alpha's scent. Her eyes weren't even sure where to look. "I…um." She flinched when Wanda gave her leash another tug. "Hi, buddy," She squeaked with her eyes glued to the floor. "When you're finished…can we play? It's fine if not." The omega nervously played with the hem of her shirt. 

You took a deep breath when Agatha finally pulled your head back to let you speak. Precum and spit dribbled down your chin as you struggled to control your breathing. The fog of submitting had almost completely overtaken your head and you could hardly think. For a moment, you and Natasha locked eyes. Your eyes were cloudy and thoughtless while hers were dark and anxious. "We can…we can play after lunch if that's okay with Maximoff," You said. The second you finished, Agatha pushed your head back down on her cock. 

Wanda clapped, signaling for Natasha to come back to her side. "Well, that's all we came here for. Hope you two have a nice lunch." She extended her hand out for Natasha to hold. "See puppy, I told you! Alphas play with their omegas in the office all the time," She whispered into her omega's ear as they left. 

Agatha was kind enough to let you play after lunch, but she worked you to the bone. If you weren't sucking her off, you were busy humping that damned toy she snuck in without you noticing. You spent hours putting on a show for Agatha and anyone who needed to stop by her office. The attention and praise you once loved had now embarrassed you. You were thankful none of them lingered more than a few minutes. None except for the very last person to visit. 

Monica was always nice to you. If she ever needed to check in, she always had some little toy or a piece of candy for you. She was always quick and efficient, which is why Agatha had always taken a liking to her. That day though, Monica was distracted. Though she never stuttered, her eyes kept drifting down to you in awe. "I hope this isn't too inappropriate, but how did you stretch them out? Darcy and I have been trying for a baby, but she's too tight for me to knot." 

Agatha looked up from the stack of papers on her desk. She affectionately scratched the top of your head. "Well, I honestly had no trouble with them. I wouldn't have a problem teaching you how to stretch out an omega though." A sudden decision, but one she was happy to make. "You know, you weren't the only one to ask me something like that today. Maybe I'll make a company event out of it!" Agatha just continued to dig a deeper grave for your pride. "I mean if you think it's a good idea."

Monica nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You can't understand how much this means to me!" She leaned over the desk and excitedly shook Agatha's hand. She looked down through the glass desk and knocked on it to get your attention.  "And thank you too for the show!" Without another word, she pulled out a jolly rancher for you and left. 

Agatha pulled back her chair and leaned down to your height and kissed your forehead. "I hope you're ready to put on another show, my little superstar," She cooed before handing you your treat. Agatha watched as the stress and apprehension on your face practically melted as you put the shiny green piece of candy in your mouth. "Awe, is that all it takes for you to give away your body? You're so easy, I didn't know my omega was such a slut."

Though your cunt throbbed at the degradation, you refused to give Agatha another win for the day. You huffed out through your nostrils. "That was your idea! I couldn't even say no if I wanted!" Despite your anger, you leaned into her hand as she cupped your cheek.

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

Agatha had given you a break before your little show. That much you were grateful for. What couldn't stand was being dragged around every time she decided there weren't enough toys to showcase. Almost every other day you were dragged to another sex toy and forced to watch as Agatha bought several more toys. She promised some of them were for the house, but that didn't make the process any easier. Especially considering she refused to touch you the entire two weeks leading up to the event.

It almost made you happy to be spread open, blindfolded and tied up for at least a hundred other alphas to see.  

You couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a curse to be blindfolded. There was no way you could commit to it if you could see all the other alphas that were only a few feet away from you, but it made every part of your body so sensitive. You were already soaking wet before the lesson had even started. "Just, don't be mean about this. Please?" You whispered. 

"I will if you behave," She whispered back before giving you one last kiss on the cheek. Agatha turned to look out towards the crowd. A group of alphas, all of the varying experiences and all watching you with bated breath. "Hello, my most prized employees! It has recently been brought to my attention that some of you aren't equipped with the knowledge to properly stretch out your beloved omegas!" She waited for the wave of disappointed whimpers and hums of agreement. "So I thought, what kind of boss would I be if I just let my lovely employees go about like that?"

You tried to distract yourself as Agatha continued to talk to the crowd. It was hard to keep your emotions under control. Even with Agatha gently massaging your thighs. If anything, it just made things worse. All it took was a few minutes for your slick to start leaking out. All you could do was whimper and hope Agatha planned on being gentle. 

"However, as some of you may have seen some weeks ago, my omega has been thoroughly stretched out already. So, we'll have to substitute tonight." Agatha's voice rang out with excitement. She turned to the table behind you and grabbed the roll of purple pleasure tape. Before you had any time to ask questions, Agatha put a wide strip of the tape over your cunt and gave it a firm slap. She chuckled at your surprised yelp and turned away again. "I'll have to be a lot slower but trust the vagina is built to handle a lot more." 

Goosebumps raised over your skin as Agatha walked behind you. You couldn't see her, but you could sense the movements and hear the direction of her voice change. A sharp yelp came from your mouth as Agatha suddenly began groping you. Agatha had already banned you from speaking out loud, so all you could do was whine. She twisted and tugged at your nipples until they pebbled up. 

"Lot of alphas underestimate how important foreplay is. It produces more slick and will make penetration a lot easier," Agatha said as she leaned over to grope your chest.  "Explore your omega’s body, tell them how beautiful they are." She kissed the top of your head and let her hands roam lower on your body. "Oh baby, you look so pretty with your legs spread for me. You're being so good to me." Her kisses trailed down the side of your neck. "I know it's new, but just relax and it'll feel so good." 

You nodded and turned to Agatha for a kiss. The quick peck on the lips you received wasn't what you were hoping for, but it did calm your nerves a bit. One deep breath after the other as Agatha answered questions and prepped the toys behind you. For a while, it worked. You weren't concerned about being penetrated for the first time and let yourself fall into the sea of bliss. It wasn't until you felt some cold, sticky substance spread across your puckered hole that you grew tense again. "Ah!"

Agatha continued to smear lube across your hole until she was satisfied. "Another thing, lube is crucial. Some omegas produce less slick than others and it won't be enough for you to go in comfortably." Your alpha eased one of her fingers inside of you and stopped just as her knuckle hit your rim. "Remember, always go slow. Tearing is a very real possibility and you don't want to risk discomfort." Agatha turned her attention back to you and smiled. "Oh, you're doing wonderful. My little superstar, making me so proud," She whispered before scenting you. "That's it, take a deep breath for me."

You whimpered at the slightest movement. Even though Agatha had stayed perfectly still, you couldn't. Being stretched open hurt, but it felt so good. Your body didn't know what it wanted. "Aggie, help please." A frantic string of whimpers fell from your lips. "I- ah! I can't help it!" 

"I know, baby. I know  Just breathe for me." Agatha used her free hand and pushed down on your abdomen to keep you still. "This is why you must take your time. Move too fast and —" Agatha's explanation was caught off by a loud whine and more frantic whimpering from you. Despite that, she continued to thrust her finger deeper inside. "Omegas can be really sensitive, you have to be careful not to overstimulate them. Even if the results are fun to watch." 

Tears began streaming down your face as Agatha added another finger. She spread them apart in a scissoring motion and continued to drag them in and out. You tried to close your legs, but the pleasure tape wrapped around you kept them spread. "A-alpha please!" No matter how much you begged, Agatha kept thrusting. Your cunt ached and begged to be filled, but received nothing. It clenched around nothing but you still felt an orgasm coming. "Wait, Agatha, I -"

Agatha curled her fingers and gave you one partially hard thrust, but pulled out the second you came. She turned back to you and leaned in. "Just give me a couple more minutes and we can wrap everything up," She whispered whilst massaging your thighs. Her hands worked quickly to clean you up. Careful not to overstimulate you. "Aftercare is always important! It doesn't matter how fast your session may be. Tell them they did a good job and make sure to bathe them, it shows you care." 

Though Agatha continued to answer questions, her attention remained on you. Your brain was too fogged up to hear what they were discussing. The only thing you could focus on was the sound of chairs scooting back and the door constantly being opened. Your muscles didn't truly relax until Agatha took off your blindfold to reveal everyone had left the room. "That was…new," You said through heavy pants. 

The smell of lavender and smoky vanilla filled the air. Agatha began removing the tape. "Oh, my little superstar was such a good little assistant for me." Her lips left soft kisses all over the patches of skin that had been indented by the tape. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. "Was…was the anal okay? We don't have to try again if you weren't into it." 

You could only laugh at your lover's sudden shyness. "Aggie, I came so hard the tape nearly fell off. Of course, I liked it." You kissed the top of her head and pulled Agatha into a hug. "We can do it again tomorrow night if you carry me to the car."

Without another word, Agatha dressed you and carried you out of the building. 

[buckets-and-trees]

First Night

I promised two anniversary fics this weekend, and it's still "this weekend" in a couple of time zones...

Fandom: MCU Series: The Brooklyn Boys Title: First Night Characters/Pairings: Stucky x female!Reader Word Count: 2.3k Summary: Takes place immediately after the events of the final part 10 Steve and the Best Friend. Dinner and a movie and...

Content Warnings: fluff, feelings, soft semi-retired superheroes

Additional Notes: Filling my ninth square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - U1 "Galaxy" and is the much spoken of (by me) PROMISED ANNIVERSARY EPISODE TO CELEBRATE POSTING PART ONE FOR THIS SERIES A YEAR AGO! These boys meant a lot to me back then and writing for them again to celebrate this with all of you has been a dream.

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Bucky kisses the back of your hand, then stands from the couch, checking his watch. “Dinner’s about ready. I’ll go finish it off.”

As he leaves the living room, Steve scoots a little closer. He pulls you into a short kiss, then rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, and you breathe in the moment.

“I know it’s so predictable to ask you about your day,” he says, “but I’ve been waiting for weeks to just have these everyday conversations with you.”

You smile, though you know he can’t see it. You’re sure he can feel it because you can feel it coming from him, too.

“When we went to dinner that night, I thought that was going to be the beginning of so many days like that, seeing you, texting with you, just sharing everything with you.

Your heart stutters and leaps, “I wanted that, too. I’m sorry it wasn’t–”

He stops you with another gentle press of his lips to yours and cups your cheek. “No, I didn’t mean to bring it up to make you feel guilty. Tony would say if you want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs. I think we’re coming through for the better.”

In the time that you’ve spent with Steve, you’ve become aware of how influential and powerful his mood is in any situation, and right now he’s feeling a contentment that really does envelop you.

So you sit back a little in the armchair, but take his hand, and start talking. He holds your hand in both of his, idle stroking of the back of your hand with his thumb as he listens. You talk about the bookshop. Bucky has become a regular, but Steve hasn’t been in yet. You’re eager to share that with him soon, too. You tell him about an upcoming book launch event you solidified today with a local author – it’s their debut novel, but they’ve been a frequent friend of your shop for a few years. “Oh,” you suddenly remember to ask, “you mentioned before that you were getting a lot of chatter about some things happening in Turkey. Is that where you and Bucky went?”

“Yeah.” He grins, probably pleased that you remembered. “Turkey was… interesting.”

“I’ve wanted to go to Turkey! Mission stuff aside because I know that’s probably classified, did you get to experience anything?”

“Not too much, but we did get to see a little of Istanbul. It was beautiful.” He tilts his head a little. “I… would like to go back and see more.”

You plant your elbow on the armrest of your chair and prop your chin on the hand Steve’s not holding. “Steve, have you even been on a vacation?”

He shakes his head. “Only day trips or weekends once or twice upstate when I was a kid. We kept on the move and covered a lot of territory when we didn’t agree to the Sokovia Accords, but that was survival and trying to be of use while keeping a low profile, not traveling. And during The Blip, it never even crossed my mind.”

You squeeze his hand.

“We should go.”

“I’ve never done as much traveling as I wanted either. Couldn’t afford it when I was starting out, then… yeah, The Blip, and since the Second Snap, it’s been busy, but now…”

“Now maybe we have even more reason to make it something to prioritize.”

Butterflies flare in your stomach when he smiles at you like that. Your chest gets that happy tightness. This was why you said yes to them.

“So, Turkey,” you say, a little breathlessly.

“I’ll put it on the list.”

You’re melting.

“Dinner is almost ready!” Bucky’s voice calls from the kitchen. “Steve, come set the table!”

“France should probably go near the top of the list.”

Steve nods in agreement and pulls you up as he stands. He keeps your hand in his as he walks both of you into the kitchen.

“Bucky won’t let us eat in the kitchen, not even at the stools at the counter,”

“Damn right I won’t!” he says, already catching your conversation. “The French wouldn’t hear of it, and I worked hard enough for us to eat at the altar of a proper table.”

“Everything smells incredible,” you gush when you enter their beautiful kitchen. Every part of the brownstone you’ve seen so far is beautiful.

Bucky turns and flashes a devastating grin before turning back to his prep. “Glad you think so.”

Steve brings you to a stop right next to Bucky, who is fully occupied whisking egg yolks one at a time into a custard on the stove, a separate pan with melted chocolate set off to the side. You lean your hip against the counter so you can watch.

Standing behind him, Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder on the other side and leans over the stove to stick his finger in the chocolate, getting his taste before Bucky can stop him.

“Rogers!” Bucky growls.

You laugh, and Steve grins wickedly.

“It’s good.”

“Get to setting the table. Food’s already set, just going to finish this off and put it in the oven.”

“And pour the wine?”

“We’ve got a Syrah, right? Or any Bordeaux blend.”

“I’ll look and see.”

“Can I help?” you ask.

They both immediately frown at you. “You’re not lifting a finger the first dinner you’re eating here with us,” Bucky says adamantly.

You hold your hands up quickly in surrender. “Understood,” you laugh.

“Good girl,” Steve says, his smile immediately returning. “I’ll go sort out the wine.”

He squeezes Bucky’s shoulder before he leaves the kitchen.

It hits you out of nowhere. There’s a short constriction in your chest at seeing how easy that casual intimate gesture was between them. They’ve known each other for years and years longer than they’ve known you. You’re nowhere near close to that ease and familiarity with them yet. Will this work?

“Come here,” Bucky invites you in closer, and as you step forward, he tucks an arm around you and pulls you securely into his side while he continues whisking with his other hand. Did your insecurity show on your face? Did he merely suspect it? Or maybe he just wanted to hold you for no other reason than wanting to. Whatever the reason, it does soothe away that doubt that had tried to creep in. He presses a kiss to your temple. “I missed you. I don’t know if I would’ve been patient enough to wait much longer. Steve was adamant we had to wait for you to set the timing though.”

Your chest blooms with warmth. You’re glad they did wait – you had needed the time to think and sort out your heart so you could feel secure jumping all in – but it also made you feel good to know he’d been eager. You circle your arms around his waist and look up at him. “Thank you.” You could say more, but you think he knows. His eyes and a squeeze of his arm around you say that he does.  “Kiss me?”

“Always,” and he does. It’s a swift kiss because he is in the middle of the complexities of whatever he’s cooking, but he makes sure even the short kiss takes your breath away.

You only just manage not to whimper when he draws his lips away. Instead, you content yourself with resting your head against his chest. “Now what is it you’re making?”

“The boeuf bourguignon was easy to finish off, and I had decided something decadent for dessert was in order. Chocolate soufflé.”

“Damn, Barnes, you know how to impress a girl.”

He laughs. “Honey, get ready for a lot more of this.”

Your stomach flips, but he doesn't leave you flustered for long, diving into normal conversation while he continued working, Steve coming in and out of the kitchen to set the table. Bucky allows you to assist him as sous chef for only a moment, letting you to open the oven door when he was ready to carefully put the chocolate delicacy in to bake.

Then the three of you sit down to dinner, and it wasn’t an oversell to say it is one of the best meals of your life. The food is incredible, and simply being there with the two of them with the conversation, the laughter, the way they look at you, the way they look at each other, all of it is bliss. That bliss bleeds into Bucky taking the chocolate soufflé out of the oven and the three of you devouring the rich masterpiece. Then you settle in to watch a movie together, you tucked between them.

When you wake up, you are no longer tucked between your super soldiers, but instead tucked beneath a set of soft sheets and blanket that are unfamiliar to you, your head rests on a comfortable but foreign pillow, and your body feels the awkwardness of having slept in your jeans and button-down blouse. The latter wasn’t awful, but never ideal. Why were you asleep in your day clothes? You shift and yawn and sink a little more into the pillows and mattress, appreciating how cozy they are but wondering where exactly you were. You rewind your memory and start to recall a few of the last details in your mind – leaning up against Bucky’s side, Steve pulling your legs up across his lap and giving you a foot massage while the opening scenes of a movie played out.

They had let you choose the movie, and you’d gone with The Count of Monte Cristo, one of your favorites, but now you weren’t certain you’d even made it to the Chateau D’If with poor Edmond Dantes before falling asleep. Actually, you were pretty sure it was that soothing foot massage that had you lost to the land of the waking. You do have a vague half recollection of being scooped up from the couch into someone’s arms, but that was it.

It's clearly what landed you here.

You roll onto your back and smile. The ceiling is littered with carefully mapped out constellations, a glow in the dark replication of the galaxy. Adorable nerd, you think, and with a look around the room, the shelf full of books that covers an entire wall of the room and a neatly stacked pile of three books on the bedside table let you know you must be in Bucky’s bed. There is a low level of moonlight casting a glow across the room from the windows, and you remember the distinct thought you’d had about wanting to see how this man kept his books and what else was in his collection, but that would need to wait for daylight. You never would have dreamed this was how things would have played out all those weeks ago.

A little more alert, your throat feels a little dry, and knowing once the thought has crossed your mind you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep without a drink of water, and it was clearly too late to go home (or late enough to absolutely justify staying in this very cozy place for the rest of the night and seeing your boys in the morning), you pull back the covers and shift out of bed. Sitting at the foot of the mattress you see a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt that are clearly meant for you, and a huge sleepy smile splits across your face. You discard your clothes, feeling immediately comfortable in the alternative – which smell like Steve.

Bucky’s bed but Steve’s clothes.

Your head spins happily as you pad quietly into the hallway and make your way to the kitchen.

Once properly watered, you make your way back to the bedrooms, carefully bringing the partially-refilled glass with you just in case you get thirsty again. It is so quiet in their home, but comfortably so. You will get to see more in the daylight, but you love how it feels already. You pause at the doorway to Bucky’s room, bite your lip, and turn to look across the hallway at another bedroom door.

You don't want to sleep alone in Bucky’s room when they are together in Steve’s.

Heart pounding just a little, you step across the hallway and slowly turn the doorknob, trying to open the door as quietly as you can. You step inside, but then stop and look around. This was an unoccupied bedroom – it had a bed, but that bed was empty, and this room didn’t seem to have much to it. It was a guest bedroom. A little bloom shoots through your heart at the thought that while they had wanted to give you every bit of privacy – leaving you clothed, giving you a bed to yourself – it felt intimate in its own way to know that they’d tucked you in in Bucky’s room, not the guest bedroom.

Not at all nervous now, you step back into the hallway, close that door, and make your way further down the hall, eager to find where these two impossibly wonderful men were slumbering and join them. The next door on the left was a bathroom, but the door on the right is Steve’s. Bucky is asleep, but Steve is sitting up against the headboard and had been engrossed in scrolling in something on his phone, earbuds in, but looks up when your movement pulls his attention. He grins and pulls the buds out, “Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you breath, padding toward his side of the bed.

He nudges Bucky as you make your way over. Bucky groans.

“Told you our girl would make her way to us before sunrise,” Steve says to him, and that seems to bring Bucky around slightly.

Steve sets his phone on his bedside table, takes the glass from your hand to set it there as well, and pulls back the covers so you can hop up and crawl in and join them. Bucky immediately pulls you in to his chest, kissing the top of your head. You sigh as Steve closes in behind you, and between your two super soldiers, you quickly drift back to sleep, held safely in their arms.

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