#it's a lot of fucking around and finding out as well

[ellemj]

Does It Hurt? : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Sex Pollen Fic

Summary: Bucky never would've gone out of his way to help you if he knew that HYDRA was still watching his every move, if he knew that it would shift their focus to you. When you're targeted and taken, it's his fault and he'll do anything to save you. Anything.

Warnings: angst, sex pollen, unprotected sex, fingering, restraints, abduction, violence (b/c Bucky is protective as fuck), profanity, voyeurism/exhibitionism (if you look hard enough), no use of y/n, only pet name use is random mentions of princess (facetiously)/baby/sweetheart, mention of SA of unknown characters from an old HYDRA experiment, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 24.3k

A/N: This is very lengthy, I know, but I thought you all deserved one long post that you could read at once (or at your own pace) vs. me committing to and failing at maintaining a posting schedule for a multi-part series. I hope at least a few of you find it to be an interesting read.

            You lived in the tower for two months before you ever formally met Bucky Barnes. Once you’d met him, you knew you didn’t want to work with him. You were sure that he was good at his job, you could tell that just from the fact that Sam was his partner. But it wasn’t about that. It was the way he looked at you with such an unsettling gaze, the way the hair on the back of your neck would stand up as soon as he was in the same room as you, even if you hadn’t yet laid eyes on him. Everything about him kept you on edge. So, instead of being sent on missions with Sam and Bucky, you did a lot of solo missions. It’s as if Fury sensed your apprehension about working with them and decided to give you a reprieve.

            After three months of living in the tower, you ended up on the same training schedule as Bucky. You found yourself frequenting the gym at the same times as the steely, unreadable super soldier. When you were sparring in the ring, he’d be just a few meters away, lifting weights like he was worried the serum would one day dissipate from his system. When you were stretching on the mats after a long run, he would be doing an ungodly number of pull-ups. Of course, this meant that you’d be hitting the showers around the same time as well. At first, Bucky made a valiant effort to be a gentleman. You always beat him to the gym showers and he felt it would be disrespectful for him to use them at the same time, even though each shower is afforded plenty of privacy behind a locked stall-style door. So, he would sit around and wait in the gym until you left, leaving a vanilla-scented trail in your wake. It wasn’t until you’d been on the same schedule for a week straight that you finally spoke to him.

            “You know there are multiple showers in there, right?” You’d asked as you walked past him one day, smelling of something sweet and looking perfectly refreshed after a shower. Bucky cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at you, and you took that as a sign that he didn’t quite catch your lighthearted tone. He didn’t say anything in response, which is why you were so surprised to hear the locker room door swing open and then click shut as you showered the next day. From then on, you and Bucky showered at the same time, just a few stalls apart, after every early morning in the gym.

            It was three weeks after that when you ended up on the radar of an organization that never should’ve caught sight of you. Bucky likes to blame himself for that. They were watching him, after all, and if he hadn’t taken that one assignment that night, if he hadn’t answered that one call from Fury, HYDRA never would’ve profiled you. HYDRA never would’ve looked into you and found out that you were the perfect candidate for their operation.

            Both you and Bucky can recall that one mission perfectly, though you each have very different perspectives on it. It was a solo mission for you, one that should’ve been fairly low risk and easy to handle without any backup. There was virtually no danger, not a single red flag came up during your recon in the days prior to the mission. That’s why you were caught so off guard when you started to get an uneasy feeling around midnight. That was when you realized just how persistent your target was, just how set he was on getting everything he wanted from you. You had only needed to get close to him for a few minutes, but somehow you ended up in a private room with him. As the scent of your perfume soaked into his button-up shirt and your lip gloss left a trail of glitter down the side of his neck, you knew you weren’t going to get out of this one easily. When his hands started kneading the curve of your ass, slipping beneath the hem of your short black dress to get a good feel of your skin, you knew you needed help. So, as you kissed and sucked on the skin of your target’s neck, you used one hand to press the panic button on your necklace. You had no idea that Bucky Barnes would be the one sent to save you.

            Bucky was wide awake before he ever got the call from Fury that night. He’d always had trouble sleeping, but lately the trouble seemed worse than usual. He never once pieced together that his struggles with insomnia were worsened on the nights that he didn’t hear you across the hall. When he got the call from Fury, he was on his feet and headed downstairs to his bike in less than thirty seconds. By the time he was on his bike, his thoughts had already veered into dangerously homicidal territory. As he sped down the darkened highway, skillfully weaving in and out of Friday night traffic, he could hear Dr. Raynor’s rule echoing in the back of his mind. No one gets hurt. In that particular instance, Bucky chose to apply the rule to you, rather than to the piece of shit that had you feeling unsafe enough to press a panic button.

            After that night, Bucky’s gaze never felt unsettling to you again. Though a shiver might still run down your spine when he was in your vicinity, you found that you liked having his eyes on you. He was watchful in a way that made you feel safe and seen. Maybe it was the way he tried to be civil when he first showed up at the club that night. He acted as if he’d merely stumbled into the private room accidentally, profusely apologizing as the door swung shut behind him and he ran a hand through his slightly messy brown hair. For a man that hadn’t been drunk in at least eighty years, he sure as hell was good at pretending that he was.

            “I was looking for the men’s room, but I guess this probably isn’t it.” He said, slurring his words slightly and shifting his eyes back and forth between you and the man you were straddling on the couch. The man’s hands remained firmly on your ass, which had Bucky ready to put a bullet right between his eyes. He probably would’ve done it too if you weren’t right there on his fucking lap. He’s a good shot, but it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

            “It’s the second door on the right, down the hall.” Your voice was unexpectedly soft and gentle for a girl who’d just finished putting on a show for some of the city’s most questionable men.

            “Second door on the right.” Bucky repeated, mumbling the words as he took a couple of unsteady steps further into the dimly lit room. “You work a pretty dangerous job, don’t you?” He focused his blue eyes on you. One thing about making eye contact with Bucky Barnes is that it’s simultaneously intoxicating and sobering.

            “She told you where the men’s room was, now you have five seconds to get there.” The man between your legs said coldly, letting his hands slide away from your ass to rest on your thighs. Bucky chuckled lowly, in a way that had goosebumps rising on your skin and anticipation building in your gut. He took another step closer to the couch, but this time it was clearly steady and purposeful. You swallowed hard, suddenly a bit worried that you were the only thing between the two men.

            “I know you were being generous with the five seconds but…” Bucky began calmly, reaching into the back of his waistband and pulling out his firearm. You felt the man’s muscles stiffen beneath you instantly. “I’m going to give you exactly one to get your hands off of her.”

            From then on, things were different. Though you still didn’t work together on anything directly, Bucky always seemed to know what missions you were on. You learned that his timing is impeccable, that he’s always the first one the show up when you put out a call for help, and he shows up faster than should be possible. You learned that he has rules, rules that he doesn’t follow but that he seems to cling to anyway, as if they give him some kind of comfort. The most important rule is that no one gets hurt. He broke that one when he pistol-whipped your target in the club that night. You also learned that he has a dark past, the kind that keeps him in constant danger. If you’d known that his past would introduce you to that same kind of danger, you might’ve done things differently.

            Bucky likes to think that he would’ve done things differently, that he would’ve turned down Fury’s call to be your backup that night, that he would’ve let someone else save you if he’d known. If he’d known that HYDRA was still breathing down his fucking neck, watching his every move outside of the tower, waiting for the right time to get their bloodstained hands on the Winter Soldier once more. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have put you in harms way. He might’ve saved you from one handsy lowlife, but he sealed your fate when he pushed your hair away from your face and pulled his helmet over your head that same night. That was the exact moment that HYDRA got a glimpse of you.

As fucked up as it is, HYDRA could see the connection between the two of you long before you or Bucky ever could. That’s why they chose you.

That’s why, unbeknownst to you, you’re currently less than twenty-four hours away from falling right into their hands.

            The soft pattering sound that raindrops make when they fall onto the roof of a parked car has always been one of your favorite melodies. It’s what’s lulling you into such a sleepy state right now as you try to make it through hour five of your solo stakeout. Glancing over at the screen in the center of the dashboard, you see that your target is doing exactly what he’s been doing since you first arrived outside of his building a few hours ago. Through the view of a heat-signature camera, you see his tall, lanky form hunched over at his desk. You never thought you’d wish for someone to break the law, but god, here you are now, wishing he’d do something, anything, to warrant you bringing in a strike team to bust down his door and drag his ass out. You’re just so damn bored. Maybe that’s why your mind starts wondering into territory it doesn’t belong in.

            Bucky Barnes. The man who lives across the hall from you, the man who showers just two stalls away from you in the gym every morning, the man who saved your ass in such an attractive way that you haven’t been able to get him out of your head since. You hate that he always seems to have that indecipherable look on his face. You hate that half the time you can’t even tell if he even cares that you exist. You really hate that you find him so fucking fascinating. You like to tell yourself that if he was more open, more extroverted, you wouldn’t give him a second thought. It’s the fact that he’s so quiet and mysterious, that’s what draws you to him. You can’t help but want to figure him out, him and his dark, brooding ways.

            A few minutes pass before you take another look at your target on the screen, noting that he’s still right there at his desk. You let out a soft sigh as you type out a quick message to Fury.

You: No movement for the past 5 hours, ready to get out of here. Send in a surveillance team for the rest of the night.

            Fury’s quick to respond, letting you know that a surveillance van is being dispatched and that you can leave when it arrives.

            So many things could’ve been done differently to prevent what would happen next. Fury could’ve given you a clear description of the van, he could’ve given you an exact ETA, he could’ve told you that the van would signal you with their lights when they arrived. You could’ve been a little less stubborn and let him assign you a partner so you weren’t sitting in such a remote part of the city all by yourself.

            When a large black van starts approaching your car just ten minutes later, you get an uneasy feeling. You watch in your rearview mirror as it approaches from behind, driving slowly, with the headlights off. You should’ve known the surveillance team couldn’t have arrived on scene so quickly considering the area you were in.

            It all happened too fast. It happened too fast and you don’t remember any of it. You don’t remember how hard you fought against them. You don’t remember hitting the panic button on your necklace before it was ripped from your neck and left in the street. You don’t remember taking out three men before the fourth one put a bag over your head and gave you an injection that put you into the deepest sleep you’ve had in years. You don’t remember a damn thing.

            Bucky remembers it all as if he was there. He watched the footage of your attack and capture so many times that it’s burned in his brain. He should’ve been there. That’s why he’s doing what he’s doing now, losing sleep what little sleep he might’ve gotten over the last three nights and putting all of his energy into finding you. It’s why the second he found out it was HYDRA who put their hands on you, he became a version of himself that he swore was dead.

            One-hundred and twenty hours. One-hundred and twenty fucking hours since Bucky last heard the sound of your door closing softly across the hall, since he last heard the sound of your triumphant laugh as you get a good hit in on your sparring partner, since he last heard the sound of your voice. Your voice. A sound he didn’t know was giving him life ever since it first graced his ears. Bucky throws another solid punch at the bag that hangs in front of him in the gym, not in the least bit surprised when the chain suspending it from the ceiling snaps and the bag goes flying into a wall at least twenty feet away.

            “I’ve only ever seen one other person do that to a punching bag.” Fury’s voice rings out, interrupting the silence surrounding Bucky and breaking through the thick fog in his mind. “And he was going through some shit too.”

            “I’m fine.” Bucky lies straight through his teeth as he hangs another bag, barely giving Fury a sideways glance as he approaches from the shadows.

            “Oh, you’re fine? And here I thought you might be at least a little upset that your across-the-hall neighbor was taken by the same people who ruined your life. Or do super soldiers not have feelings?” Bucky shoots Fury an annoyed look before throwing a few light punches at the new bag.

            “Isn’t that what people want when they create super soldiers? Mindless soldiers who take orders and feel nothing?”

            “You feel nothing?” Fury leans against the wall next to the previously airborne punching bag, glancing down at it with a look of familiarity. “Do you feel nothing for her?” Bucky’s fist collides with the bag almost hard enough to snap the chain, and though Fury is standing in the danger zone, he doesn’t flinch.

            “What do you want?”

            “I want to know why this is affecting you so much. Is it who was taken or is it who did the taking?”

            “Does it matter?” Bucky’s tone conveys every bit of his exasperation as he steadies the punching bag with both hands and raises a furrowed brow at the director.

            “It does.” Bucky could lie. He could lie or he could just refuse to answer. He never signed any contracts saying he had to be forthcoming with Fury at all times, he never so much as promised that he’d be honest with him. But for some reason, he tells the truth.

            “Both.”

            “What lengths would you go to to save her?”

            Bucky’s hands remain on either side of the punching bag, squeezing it hard enough to leave imprints in the tough canvas fabric. Images of you being taken in such a violent way swirl around in his mind, playing on repeat with Fury’s last question as the soundtrack.

            “Lengths I haven’t been to since my arm had a fucking star on it.”

            Your life has been reduced to brief moments of consciousness and flashes of things that your drugged mind is trying so hard to piece together. You remember the flash of a butterfly needle piercing your left arm and the cool sensation of saline entering your circulation from an IV drip. You remember someone swiping at your forehead with a wet cloth, leaving a stinging pain right above your left eyebrow and around your bottom lip. You remember harsh Russian words being spoken over you as you lost your grip on reality and went tumbling into the oblivion of a heavily sedated sleep. You remember waking up a second time and seeing nothing but gray concrete walls all around you. The air was stagnant and chilly, making you wish you had more than what felt like a small paper gown covering your skin. The sound of a metal door creaking on its hinges and a gruff voice barking orders at someone in Russian was the last thing you heard before your eyes closed and your head fell back once again. The third time you awoke from your medically-induced slumber was this morning, when the drugs were finally clearing your system. You found yourself still in that small concrete room, strapped to some kind of exam table, covered from your toes to your shoulders by a thin white sheet. Not a single thing has happened since then. You’ve laid on that exam table for hours, alternating between staring up at the dim light hanging from the ceiling above and staring at any one of the four gray walls around you. There’s a rusted metal door immediately to your left, but you found your neck too sore to turn and stare at that for very long.

            You can’t seem to remember how you got here, or much less where the fuck here is. You’ve wracked your brain repeatedly, trying to piece it together, but the only thing you remember is your last interaction with Bucky Barnes.

            You don’t usually wash your hair in the gym shower. You remember that on the morning of the day you were taken, you spent an extra two minutes in the shower washing your hair. It’s how you ended up in front of the mirror, with your towel wrapped tightly around your body, working the tangles out of your hair with your bare hands. It’s why Bucky took one step out of his shower, with his own towel slung low on his hips, and froze. You caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, the reflection perfectly capturing every detail of him. Drops of water clung to his tan skin, rolling down the ridges and valleys of his toned abs. The curve of his right shoulder could’ve been crafted by a master potter, sloping down to a defined bicep and forearm, accentuated by apparent veins holding such a steady balance of blood and super soldier serum. But his left shoulder? Your eyes were drawn to what was left of it. The skin there looked so painfully marred and fused to his black and gold vibranium arm. You stared a moment too long before you realized you were the one who messed up, you were usually gone by now. Bucky never would’ve stepped out of his shower if he knew you were there, right there in nothing more than a small white towel that was threatening to reveal where your thighs curve upward into your ass.

            “My hair…” You had said softly, your voice coming out timid and gentle. Bucky remained frozen, watching as your eyes slowly moved away from his scars and settled on the dog tags that hung around his neck. When you finally looked him in the eye in the reflection of the mirror, you seemed to find your voice again. “My hair got tangled.” Bucky only nodded, giving you an unreadable look as he took a slow step forward to head to the locker room for his clothes. You don’t know why you didn’t leave it at that.

            Bucky doesn’t know why you didn’t leave it at that either, but everything that happened after that is exactly why he’s taking your disappearance so fucking hard.

            “Does it hurt?” You asked so quietly that Bucky thought he might’ve imagined it. He was a mere foot behind you when the question left your lips. You felt your cheeks blushing pink as his feet stilled and he met your gaze in the mirror once more.

            “Does what hurt?” You could’ve just said it. You could have just fucking said it, you didn’t have to do what you did. You turned around slowly, letting your fingers slip out of your hair before reaching a hand out and letting your fingertips ghost over where skin meets vibranium on Bucky’s left shoulder.

            Bucky couldn’t fucking breathe. As your soft fingers traced his scars, he drew in a deep breath and seemingly forgot how to exhale. You didn’t notice the way his eyes closed as you studied his skin beneath your touch, you didn’t even notice the way his chest stopped rising and falling. Your touch was so light and gentle, so innocent and yet it changed something in the atmosphere. The air in the room grew so thick that Bucky felt as though he might suffocate, you felt it too, but you didn’t withdraw your hand. It was the contrast between his rough scars and your soft fingers, combined with the warm, steamy air, and the water droplets rolling down Bucky’s back that had him growing overstimulated. When he opened his eyes and looked down at you, he watched as the towel clinging to your chest had begun to lose its grip, slipping down an inch to reveal a little too much skin while simultaneously not revealing damn near enough. He didn’t even realize what he had done until he had your wrist clamped in his flesh hand and your palm was flat against his scarred shoulder. You were looking up at him, and though he expected to find fear or apprehension in your eyes, he found nothing of the sort.

            “You’re not wearing your necklace.” He said matter-of-factly, narrowing his eyes at you, but keeping his grip on your wrist, preventing you from taking your hand away from his shoulder.

            “Should I be?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. Bucky shrugged, the action moving your hand slightly but still, he held it in place.

            “You’re standing here in nothing but a towel with a guy you barely know and you don’t think you should have your panic button around?”

            “Every time I press it, you show up.” You pointed out. Bucky dropped your wrist and you pulled your hand back to your side slowly, but didn’t take a step away from him.

            “I’m starting to think you only press it when you want to see me.” His tone was taunting, almost playful, and you picked up on the smirk that was threatening to take over his features.

            “What happens if I press it one night when I’m not on a mission?” Your boldness came out of nowhere. Bucky cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, wondering to himself if you were just playing along with his little game or if the entire exchange had a hint of something real in it.

            “Press it sometime and we’ll find out.”

            As you lie on the uncomfortable exam table with restraint straps digging into your arms, legs, and torso, you have to wonder if you pressed your panic button the night you were taken. You can’t seem to remember a single thing about that day after the tense moment in the shower room with Bucky, everything after that is simply gone. Surely you didn’t get the chance to press the button, because if you did, you have no doubt that Bucky would’ve shown up. He might not have been close enough to show up before you were taken but you’re sure he would’ve showed up to the scene, found evidence that you were taken, and he would’ve been able to track and follow whoever took you. Wouldn’t he? He always shows up.

            But if Bucky Barnes always shows up, then why are you here now? Why are you alone, in unknown territory, surrounded by thick concrete walls and the sinking feeling that no one is coming for you?

            Bucky has gotten himself into some deep shit. He’s fully aware of that as he tilts his head back and rests it on the hard metal behind him. It’s the only part of his body that he can move with the restraint system that HYDRA has him in right now. It’s the same type of reinforced glass-walled system that has once held Loki, the Hulk, and even Bucky when the threat of descending into the Winter Soldier still loomed. HYDRA’s afraid of him when he’s in control of his own mind, so he’s here, locked away and feeling fucking helpless.

            Bucky getting taken in by HYDRA was part of the plan to rescue you. You’re in a concrete bunker so deep underground that any attempts to infiltrate it and extract you would’ve only endangered both yours and countless other lives. There were too many unknowns. Truthfully, it was unknown if you were even in this bunker, when SHIELD found out that HYDRA has at least three within this state alone. The only reason they were able to narrow it down to this bunker was because of one double agent on the inside. They took a chance on his intel. They took a chance, allowed Bucky to fall into HYDRA’s hands, and now everything is stalled. Until he lays eyes on you and figures out where they’re holding you and what kind of shape you’re in, nothing else can happen. You’re both sitting ducks at HYDRA’s mercy.

            He thought you were taken because of him. Bucky thought you had been targeted by HYDRA because they found out you were connected somehow, because they thought that taking you would be an affront to him. It made sense, if what they wanted was their hands on the Winter Soldier, then all they needed to do was touch something, someone, that he cared about. They knew it would drag him out into the open and give them a shot at having their prized possession back under wraps. Bucky was only partially right. They did indeed use you to draw him out, but you most definitely were never meant to be a simple means to an end.

            They chose you because of what they saw that night when you climbed onto the back of Bucky’s bike. They chose you because every interaction they observed after that night was charged with indescribable tension, an obvious chemistry that was palpable even through surveillance cameras and monitors. They knew that you were the key to everything they were planning. So now here you are, sitting up on the side of the exam table, feeling weak and honestly, ready to accept death. As gloved hands move carefully against your upper back, removing a few stitches from a wound there, you wish that you’d died in the scuffle of your kidnapping. The sedation and drugs have fully cleared from your system and you’re trying hard to ignore the aches and pains raging beneath your skin and the dark thoughts clouding your mind. You clutch the white sheet over your bare chest and grit your teeth as the gloved hands tug on a particularly tight stitch in your back.

            “I can’t give you any pain medication today.” The man behind you says in a hushed tone, noticing the way your muscles tense every time he touches you. “It would interfere with tonight’s test.” He continues working on your wound as you sit in silence, refusing to engage with him. Tonight’s test. Questions start swirling through your mind at warp speed, begging to be asked, but you press your lips together tightly. “You don’t know it yet, but I’m the only friend you have in here.” His confession comes as a hurried whisper.

            The man finishes up removing your stitches and then takes a few steps around the side of the exam table, coming to stand in front of you. Finally meeting his gaze, you see a tall, thin man, probably a few years older than you, with warm brown eyes. He doesn’t offer a reassuring smile or anything of the sort, but something in his eyes makes you feel like there might be some truth to his claim.

            “Lie back, I need to see your ribs and your left hip.” You don’t really know why you do as he says, but you listen. You lie back on the exam table, thankful that he doesn’t move to use the restraints, and you shift the white sheet so it covers your breasts but allows him to view your ribcage. You cast your eyes downward, taking in the sight of the blue and purple bruises decorating your left side. That must be why it hurts so fucking much to take a deep breath. What the hell did they do to you? “I did x-rays when you first got here, you have a couple of hairline rib fractures, but nothing major.” He runs his cold gloved fingertips over the bruises, palpating lightly and listening for the sounds of any crepitus, which would indicate much more than just a little hairline fracture or two. He hears nothing, and skims his fingers down to your left hip. It’s the worst of what you’ve seen so far. The bruising there is much darker and more expansive than the bruising over your ribs. Even just his featherlight touches there elicit a pain that has your eyes screwing shut and your teeth clenching. “It’s not broken.” He tells you, as if that’ll suddenly resolve your pain. As soon as he retracts his hand, you’re covering yourself with the sheet once more and moving to sit back up on the side of the table. Your bodily movements are slow and careful, to avoid aggravating all of these injuries that you didn’t know you had.

            “How long have I been here?” You almost choke on the words as they slip past your lips, the dryness in your throat making it painful to speak. Your voice is so raspy that you barely recognize it as being your own. Maybe you should’ve started with asking for a sip of water.

            “Today is your seventh day here.” The man answers in his softest whisper yet, as if he isn’t supposed to tell you. Seven days? Seven fucking days you’ve been lying on this exam table, sedated to the point of losing nearly a week of consciousness? Your nails dig into the side of the exam table as rage begins to course through your veins. “Don’t do anything stupid.” You look up to find the man standing still before you, his eyes darting from your white knuckles and then to your face. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you will yourself to calm the fuck down and focus.

            “Where is here?”  You ask shakily, your rage spilling over into your raspy tone.

            “That doesn’t matter. There’s something else we need to talk about, but it’s not the right time yet.”  Suddenly, you hear what sounds like footsteps and a bit of commotion somewhere outside the rusted metal door of your concrete room. It’s not yet very close, but you can tell whatever it is, it’s getting closer to you. The man’s expression grows nervous and he quickly begins cleaning up the tray table beside him, wrapping his mess of old stitches and bloody gauze up in a small plastic sheet. “I’ll be back here tonight, but someone will be with me. They’re going to make me give you an injection. Don’t fight it, please. It will wear off by the time morning comes.”

            “What’s in it?” You ask, matching his hurried tone and low volume. He’s moving to the door in an instant, with sweat beading along his hairline and his cheeks flushing pink. “What’s in the injection?”

            “Something that won’t kill you, but you’ll wish it would.”

            He’s going to snap every piece of metal and shatter every fucking inch of glass that’s holding him in place right now. Bucky’s seething, his face flushed and his chest heaving as he calculates how many concrete walls stand between him and wherever the fuck you’re being tortured right now. Another pained scream reverberates through the bunker and it reaches Bucky’s straining ears, making his blood boil. It’s you. He’s sure it’s you. Though he’s never heard you scream before, he has no doubt that it’s you. Bucky’s curling his fingers into fists and scrunching his eyes shut when he hears the electronic lock to the room that he’s in beep a few times and then click. The door slides open quickly, revealing a handful of guards and a pair of electronic handcuffs.

            “Are you ready to see your little girlfriend?” One of the guards spits the words out as if they’re venom, his thick Russian accent clinging to each word. “I think she needs you.”

            What the fuck is this? Bucky’s mind is reeling as he tries to keep his cool, refusing to blow the entire op by losing his temper and bashing a few heads in. As long as they’re really taking him to you, he won’t kill anyone — not yet anyway. He stays silent as the guards get into formation around the entrance of the chamber he’s in. He doesn’t breathe a word as the head guard places the electronic cuffs around his wrists and presses a few buttons to release the full body restraints that he’s been in for hours. He thinks about how he could easily kill every single waste-of-breath in this tiny concrete room, even with the handcuffs on, but when another scream rings out, and much louder this time with both the chamber and room door being open, Bucky’s only thinking about one thing: getting to you.

            “You recognize her screams, don’t you? Is that how she sounds when you fuck her?” Bucky starts counting down in his head.

Three. He’ll give the man exactly three seconds to shut the fuck up.

“I bet her pussy is as pretty as her moans, yeah?”

            Two.   

            “Maybe I’ll find out for myself, she wouldn’t be able to fight me off when she’s restrained.”

            One. The sound of the man’s skull cracking as Bucky effortlessly knocks him to the concrete floor is sickening. Before any of the other guards have a chance to save him, his head is between Bucky’s tactical boot and the ground. A second cracking sound echoes in the room and the man is dead. Truthfully, he sealed his fate the moment he had a single untoward thought about you. None of the other guards make a move. They’re all frozen, staring at Bucky with mixes of fear, anger, and uncertainty. They don’t know what to do without their fearless fucking leader.

            “Take me to her or I will kill every single one of you without lifting a fucking finger.”

            He showed up. Bucky Barnes showed up. With the amount of pain flooding your nerve endings and making you see stars, your first thought is that he isn’t real. The tall, broad-shouldered man standing before you, with his black and gold arm reflecting the dim light that hangs from the ceiling, can’t be real.

            Bucky stares at you from across the small concrete room. You’re sitting in the farthest corner, with your back against the rough wall and your knees pulled up tight to your chest, wearing what looks to be a tattered hospital gown. It’s fucking heartbreaking. The way your eyes flit up to his, looking at him as if he’s a figment of your imagination, it shifts something within him. A shudder racks through your body and a torturous moan leaves your lips. Bucky’s feet are carrying him forward in an instant, closer to you. You’re dropping your head to your knees and biting down on your forearm, refusing to let yourself watch as he grows closer. He isn’t real. This isn’t real, you tell yourself. The pain is making you hallucinate.

            Cold, smooth metal ghosts along the side of your face, pushing your hair behind your ear and then following the curve of your jaw down toward your chin. Bucky’s clenching his teeth together as you let him lift your head, as you lift your eyes to meet his.

            “You showed up.” Your voice breaks him. It breaks him into a million little tiny flesh and vibranium pieces. It breaks him in a way he doesn’t think he’s ever been broken before. When you lean into his touch, he wants nothing more than to pick you up and draw you into his lap, to cradle you against his chest and tell you that he’s going to get you out of this hellhole. But he doesn’t.

            “I showed up.” He says softly, brushing his thumb over a bruise on your cheek. “What have they done to you?” His eyes part from yours as he takes in the full sight of you. His fingers move up to trace the healing cut above your eyebrow, then down to graze along the cut at the corner of your mouth.

            “I’ve been sedated until today. They gave me something not long ago, an injection.” Your muscles tighten involuntarily as another wave of pain surges through you, forcing you to drop your head to your knees again as the room spins around you. The scream that erupts from you, that rips through your chest, is enough to rattle the metal tray table across the room. By the time the surge begins to pass, you’re shivering. You let your head fall back against the concrete wall behind you and find Bucky staring at you, his brows pinched together in concern and a sheen of sweat forming across his forehead. You don’t have the strength to fight when he grabs your hands and tugs you to your feet, lifting you into his arms with ease and carrying you bridal-style to the exam table in the middle of the room. He lays you on it carefully, but your thin gown shifts to reveal your heavily bruised hip and he feels a fresh serving of rage filling him up.

            “What the fuck did they do to you?” He demands to know, pushing your gown a little further to reveal the entirety of the deep purple and blue bruise. “Torture?”

            “No, I think this is the first round of torture.” You groan, trying to roll onto your side so you can curl back up into a ball. Bucky places his flesh hand on your lower stomach and his vibranium one on your thigh, holding you still. “They said it isn’t broken.”

            “And you believe them?” He questions. His mistake comes when he finally touches your skin with his flesh hand. When he presses his warm palm flat against your bared hip, you suck in a sharp inhale and your eyes open wide. “Does this hurt?” He asks, but you don’t respond. You don’t say anything because it doesn’t hurt. It feels like stretching your muscles after a long nap, like laying in the summer sun to dry after swimming for hours. He notices the look of relief taking over your face, so he keeps his hand right where it is. “This doesn’t hurt.” He says incredulously, narrowing his eyes as he looks down at the swollen, angry skin. Leaning into his touch again, you take another deep breath. “What did they give you?”

            “I don’t know. It was a liquid in a syringe, looked like about ten milliliters of something cloudy and white.” Another twinge of pain shoots through your body but it feels muted this time, just a fraction of its previous intensity. Bucky knows what they gave you. His breaths come in quicker, the slight hyperventilation making him a little lightheaded as HYDRA’s plan begins to unfold before him. He doesn’t remove his hand from your bruised hip, but begins to curl his fingertips against your skin instead. His eyes study your face, watching how it contorts, but not in pain. It contorts with the faintest promise of pleasure. He unfurls his fingers and begins sliding his hand upward, dragging his palm and fingers flat as he nears your waist. A soft whimper escapes your lips and he halts his movements. Your eyes flutter open and you meet his gaze with a furrowed brow as pain lingers in your nerve endings. The further up he moves his hand, the less relief you feel. After giving each other a charged look, he continues his upward movement. He's trying to confirm that this is what he thinks it is, while simultaneously checking you for any other bruises. He’s tallying them up in his head. Each bruise he finds is one more of HYDRA’s men that will be dying a slow, painful death at his hands.  He uses his vibranium hand to push your gown further to the side, revealing the dark bruises along your ribcage just before his hand glides over them.  

            “Just hairline fractures.” You whisper, speaking the words through a shaky exhale. He’s going to kill someone. Probably more than one someone. It’s already settled, the certainty of that fact taking up residence in his bones. He will kill anyone who laid a finger on you. Actually, he’ll kill anyone who has so much as looked in your direction with ill intent over the last seven days. As soon as he gets you out of this damn concrete bunker and back to safety, he’s going on a fucking rampage. “Bucky…”  His name falls from your lips in a way that has his body physically reacting. He feels sick over it, over feeling even the tiniest bit of pleasure when you’re in such a state.

            “It felt better when I was touching your hip.” He already knows. You nod in response. Slowly, you reach down with your left hand, watching him cautiously as your hand comes to rest over the top of his that’s still lingering over your bruised ribs. He lets you guide his hand down your skin, inching closer and closer to your hip as your face relaxes and your eyes fall closed once more. “You don’t know what this is?”

            “Just tell me.” You plead, scrunching your nose up when another muted surge of pain pulses down the back of your spine, shooting down to your fingers and toes like lightning. Still, with Bucky’s touch, it’s so much more bearable.

            “It’s a chemical compound that HYDRA designed when they realized that recreating the serum from a super soldier’s DNA would take years. They wanted to shift into researching super soldier stem cells instead.” As soon as the words stem cells leave Bucky’s mouth, you know where this is going. A sheen of sweat is glistening across your forehead now, and you wipe at it with the back of your hand as Bucky continues to drag his palm in circles over your hip bone, trying to keep the worst of your pain at bay.

            “What does the chemical do, Bucky?” Exasperation is evident in your tone, but it doesn’t even register in Bucky’s mind. He zeroes in on the way his name sounds rolling off of your tongue, trying his best to ignore the tent forming in his tactical pants. This is not the fucking time nor the place. He grits his teeth for a second and his hand stills on your hip, which earns him a displeased whimper from you and another noticeable hardening twinge in his cock. He’s quick to start rubbing circles against the skin of your hip again.

            “It does a lot of things…causes pain that gets worse and worse over the course of about eight hours, makes you wish you were dead.”

            “Yeah, I got that part.” You groan, considering curling into a fetal position. “But what’s the purpose of using it on someone? Why are they doing this?” There’s a long pause after your question, and you study the side of Bucky’s face as he watches his hand moving over your bruised hip. “Bucky?” Would it be wrong of him to tell you to stop saying his fucking name? He’s considering it.

            “They used to inject super soldiers with it and then lock them in rooms with women. It enhances all of this reproductive shit, sends their sex drive into overdrive, all they can think about it getting off.” It’s crude, the way he describes it, but its effective in giving you a clear mental image of HYDRA’s depravity. Your heart is beating out of your chest as things start to make sense in your mind, as you realize the true gravity of the precarious situation that you’re in right now.

            “Why haven’t I heard about this before?” You have to ask, but you’re sure you won’t like the answer. Bucky hesitates for a moment, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth and biting down, avoiding your gaze.

            “It wasn’t effective.”

            “Why not?” His hand pauses again, and this time, he withdraws his touch completely, taking a step back from the exam table you lie on.

            “The women never survived.” A sinking feeling settles deep in the pit of your stomach, almost overwhelming the cramping pain you already feel there. He isn’t saying the women didn’t survive the dose of the drug. That’s not what he’s saying at all. He’s saying they didn’t survive being fucked by feral super soldiers. He’s saying these women were violated and then discarded like single-use plastic, all as part of HYDRA’s attempt to have at least one of them end up pregnant so they could harvest potentially super soldier serum-laden stem cells. Bucky can see the wheels in your head turning, he can see the panic rising up inside you before it’s even reached the surface. He doesn’t reach out to touch you, but god, he wants to. He wants to reassure you. “Something about this is different though. As far as I know, they never gave the women a dose of the drug. Only the men.” You take a few deep breaths, the mixture of sheer panic and an oncoming wave of pain quickly growing to be too much for you to handle.

            “Touch me.” You choke out, just as another bolt of what feels like supercharged electricity shoots down your spine and raises your body temperature. You cry out in agony as you tremble on the exam table, barely noticing when Bucky steps forward and rests his hand on your hip again. You need more than that, so much more than that, and you both know it. When the wave of pain subsides and your breaths begin to come in slower, you peel your eyes open and find Bucky already focused on your face, concern, worry, and a good bit of rage etched into his features. “Why would they give this to me and not you?”

            “I don’t…” His voice trails off as his eyes roam over the small bits of exposed skin, as he takes in the tattered hospital gown and the bruises and cuts littered across the expanse of your body. He knows why. He was going to lie to you, to tell you he doesn’t know. But what’s the point? “They know I wouldn’t lay a finger on you just to save myself.”

            There it is. They’re dosing you to force his hand. He wouldn’t act on the torture if it was aimed at his body alone. He would suffer through the pain or die before he would touch a woman against her will, before he’d ever even think to ask that of someone. But when it’s you? He’d do whatever you ask of him, and somehow HYDRA found that out. HYDRA found that out long before even you did, and they’re using it against you both now.

            “He said…the man who’s been treating my wounds, who gave me the injection earlier, he said tonight would be a test.” You whisper, your eyes roving over to the small camera mounted in the far upper corner of the ceiling. Bucky follows your gaze and thinks about ripping the camera right out of the fucking concrete.

            Bucky’s trying hard to keep his composure. You’re the one weakness he didn’t even know he had until it was being exploited. What did he do to lead HYDRA right to you? Where did he go wrong? How the hell did everything go to shit so quickly?

            He spends the next three hours doing everything he can to ease your pain and suffering without taking it too far. The camera captures everything. It captures the shift in the room when the drug really started to ruin you, when you turned into a moaning, trembling mess on the exam table. It captures Bucky trying to soothe you by running his single flesh hand along your thigh, your lower stomach, and at times even sitting you up to rub deep circles into your lower back. You still needed more. It’s not the first time that Bucky’s resented his vibranium arm, but it’s the first time he’s resented it for a reason totally unrelated to his own trauma. The only thing that’s offering you any relief right now is the feel of his skin against yours, and he can only give you 50% of what anyone else could, because he only has one fucking hand. After half an hour, your pain worsened to an unbearable degree and Bucky took matters into his own hands. That’s when the camera captured Bucky stripping the clothing from his upper body. It was a single cry that you tried to stifle that did it. His top was crumpled on the floor within seconds, his arms wrapping around your quaking body and lifting you from the table. Instead of carrying you bridal style this time, he guided your legs around his waist and let you collapse on his shoulder.

            He took you right back to that corner of the room, the corner he first found you in. This time, he sat on the floor with his bare back pressing against the concrete wall. He turned you around in his lap as if you weighed nothing, twisting you until your back was to his chest and you were seated on the floor between his legs, and untied your gown to fully bare your back to him. The moment he placed his hands on your forearms and pulled you flush against him was the moment you knew you were fucked. It felt like coming up for air after tumbling around beneath crashing waves. When he slipped both arms under the fabric of the gown, wrapping them around your stomach and keeping you pressed against him, you felt relief and yet you only wanted – no, needed – more.

            “Bucky, it’s not enough.” You whimpered, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.

            “I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” The sweet name hung in the air like smoke, swirling around in the corner of that concrete room. You felt a fire begin to build low in your stomach, replacing the agonizing ache you’d previously been feeling there. Bucky noticed the way your shoulders relaxed a little and the way a serene look briefly took over your features when he slipped up and called you that name. He doesn’t even know where the fuck it came from, but he’ll sure as hell keep using it if it’s doing you any good.

            An hour later, the camera captured your thighs squeezing together as you continued to lean back into the super soldier behind you. It captured the internal struggle written all over his face as you fought the desire to straddle him right there on the floor and grind yourself against the sizable bulge in the front of his pants. He knew you needed it, but until you asked, until you vocalized it, he’d hold out. Though you didn’t know it, he was completely at your mercy.

            When you started slipping in and out of consciousness, your heart beat rising to a dangerous rate, sustained well over two-hundred beats per minute, HYDRA watched on through their monitors as Bucky started to drag his lips over the skin of your neck. He pressed his lips to your pulse point, seeming to count the beats with the tip of his tongue as your eyes fluttered closed and a broken moan fell from your open mouth.

            “What can I do? Tell me what I can do, please.” His plea registered in your mind but the ramifications of your response didn’t. There wasn’t a thought in your head when you reached beneath the gown and gripped his flesh hand, not a single damn thought when you guided his hand down between your legs.

            The camera didn’t faze either of you. Though it was a consideration in the back of Bucky’s mind, his fingertips had already felt the wet fabric of the black panties you were sporting beneath the gown and his hand took it upon itself to do anything and everything you needed. With his vibranium hand holding your thighs apart and skilled flesh fingers pulling your panties to the side, Bucky was dipping two digits into your dripping cunt almost as soon as you’d spread your legs for him.

            Bucky Barnes used nothing more than one hand and a few words of praise to draw two orgasms out of you, singlehandedly ending your suffering and lulling you into a state of semi-consciousness. He himself was in a daze when a team of guards swept into the room suddenly, four of them aiming their guns at his head as two of them pulled your limp body from his embrace and laid you back on the exam table in the center of the room. Bucky was left sitting in the corner, with sweat glistening along his exposed chest and abs, his dog tags sticking to his skin, and his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes were fixated on his fingers, the two that were seated deep inside you just moments ago. The two fingers that worked your pussy until Bucky’s name was falling freely from your lips, until you wrapped your soft hand around his wrist and dug your nails in, leaving little half-moon shaped bruises in his skin. Until the power of your second orgasm took away almost all of the pain you’d been suffering through for the last three hours, and you went slack against Bucky’s chest. He left those two fingers buried in your cunt until the guards tugged you away from him, taking a piece of his already shattered soul with your weak body.

             As the guards place Bucky back in electronic cuffs, not even bothering to have him put his shirt back on, he feels something rising up inside of him. It’s a part of him that he worked so hard to bury, to crush down into nothing more than dust and ash, never to see the light of day again. He feels a type of uncontrollable rage that he hasn’t quite felt since a time when he didn’t even know his own name.

Bucky feels the Winter Soldier clawing its way to the surface, scratching at the layers of his skin, begging to be set free. The only differences this time being who he’d be killing for and whether or not he’d be doing it willingly.

You. He’d be killing for you. And he would kill so fucking willingly.

             Bucky is no stranger to nightmares. He’s no stranger to waking up in a cold sweat, his heart nearly beating out of his chest as he struggles to ground himself and remember that it isn’t real. He’s no stranger to being haunted during his waking hours, plagued by memories of what he’s done, or of what’s been done to him. What he is a stranger to is being haunted by you.

            The little pants and gasps that fell from your lips so freely at the skilled work of his hand are engrained in his mind. They taunt him with every draft of filtered air that wafts around the chamber. He can still feel your back pressed against his chest, your thighs spread and leaning into his own, the soft tresses of your hair brushing against the side of his neck as you let your head fall back on his shoulder. He’s so fucking thankful that you let your head fall back that way. His control would’ve been in danger of slipping if you’d chosen to look down between your legs and watch as he slid his fingers in and out of you. Hell, his control was teetering on the fucking edge regardless. He hates that he knows how it feels to have your cunt gripping his fingers, your body begging him not to pull away, how it feels to have you relying solely on him for your release. He hates even more that he only has HYDRA to thank for it.

            Bucky lets his head rest back and his eyes close tightly as a memory makes its way to the forefront of his thoughts.

            “I’m not wearing your jacket.” You said defiantly, shaking your pretty little head and crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky was such a gentleman, keeping his gaze averted instead of taking in the way your stance was accentuating the shape of your breasts. Your breasts that were already threatening to spill over the black dress clinging to your curves. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself to stop picturing your soft skin marred with road rash. He didn’t know you very well, but he knew that if you said you wouldn’t wear his jacket, then you damn sure wouldn’t be wearing it.

            “Then you’re wearing my helmet.” He said coldly, turning to face you with his black helmet gripped in his flesh hand. “Or you can go back inside and leave a little more glitter on one of New York’s most upstanding men.” The hesitation that flashed across your face only frustrated him more, as if you were really thinking about going back into that damn shithole. “It’ll keep the wind from messing up your hair, princess.”

            You stepped forward suddenly, coming close enough that your arms almost brushed against Bucky’s chest as your eyes narrowed in disdain. You looked up at him through your lashes in a way that had him feeling like he was on the edge of a rocky cliff, seconds from falling.

            "Put it on for me then, soldier.” You said softly, your voice barely above the whistling of the wind. A low chuckle rumbled past his lips as he shifted the helmet to his vibranium hand and did something so unexpected. He reached up with his flesh hand and gently, so fucking gently, pushed a perfectly placed stray lock of hair behind your ear. The helmet was on two seconds later, and he only had to fasten the strap beneath your chin before you’d be ready to ride.

            “Look up for me.” His tone was even, unwavering, even when his words were suggestive. The energy between you was electric. It felt like the sharp, crackling atmosphere you’d feel right before lightning strikes right at your feet. A chill spread throughout your body, and because of how close Bucky was standing and how focused you were on everything he was doing, you didn’t stop to think that the chill was really your sixth sense kicking in. You were being watched. You were being chosen by HYDRA as Bucky fastened the strap under your chin and met your gaze for a moment too long. Your fate was being sealed.

            The electronic lock outside of Bucky’s concrete room beeps, dragging him out of his head and back to the present. His head snaps forward as the door slides open and a slew of guards pour into the room, followed by a tall, thin man with gray hair and dark, empty eyes. His skin looks as if it would slough off and turn to dust if a strong breeze hit him just right.

            “The girl made it through the night, thanks to you.” The man says, keeping his eyes cast downward at an illuminated tablet in his hands. Bucky narrows his eyes, refusing to let relief cloud his focus. “She’s had almost twenty-four hours to recover so she’s about to get her second injection now.” Bucky’s muscles tense within the restraint system, but he maintains his composure, biting down on the inside of his cheek nearly hard enough to draw blood. “We need to go over some ground rules before tonight’s session begins. Are you going to cooperate with me?” The old man looks up now, his hollow eyes meeting Bucky’s without fear.

            “I’m listening.” He spits the words out like venom.

            “Based on the conversation the two of you had last night, you already know why we’re doing this. You were pretty spot on, really, I was impressed.” The man pauses, waiting for Bucky to respond. Bucky bites down a little harder on the inside of his cheek before inhaling deeply.

            “What are the ground rules?” He asks tensely, growing more and more impatient with every passing millisecond.

            “She stays in restraints. If you so much as look like you’re going to remove them, we’ll find another super soldier to pair her with.” Just the thought of any other man being near you after the injection they’re giving you right now has Bucky clenching his teeth. “You finish inside of her. If you don’t, you’ll have a front row seat to watch someone else do it next time.”

            Finish inside of her.

            Bucky knew what they were plotting, but it’s only hitting him now that he’s hearing it said aloud. Some part of him was assuming the team would’ve swooped in and staged a rescue before things got this far, before anything really happened. That part of him is sweating now.

            “Consider this your one chance to get what you want from her.” The man taunts, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He stops right before reaching the exit, looking back over his shoulder at Bucky. “She might feel something for you but she never would’ve given you a chance in the real world. You’re a cold-blooded killer, a ruthless assassin with a dark past. She would’ve only ever feared you.”

            Something’s different about the man with the warm brown eyes, the man who gave you the first injection. He seems almost as uneasy as you are about being here. He doesn’t quite belong.

            “This will burn at first, just like last time.” He says quietly, flicking the tip of his gloved finger against the side of a syringe in an attempt to pop the air bubbles inside of it. You stare at the ten milliliters of white cloudy liquid with disdain. You remember what it did to you last night. Memories of searing pain mingle with memories of a familiar face. Bucky Barnes showed up. He came to your rescue and gave you exactly what you needed to survive the torture HYDRA chose to inflict on you. “Tonight is going to be different.”

            “How so?” You ask, forcing your mind to abandon all thoughts of the man whose fingers were curled inside of you less than a day ago. You can’t think about that right now.

            “There will be expectations, and if they aren’t met, things will get very bad for you very fast.” The man’s warning makes your blood run cold. You tense up as he runs an alcohol swab over the skin of your upper arm.

            “Things aren’t already bad?” You ask sarcastically, glancing around the concrete holding cell you’ve lived in for days now.

            “They want you pregnant. Whether that’s by your friend or not is up to the two of you.”

            “Oh, we get choices now? Does HYDRA have a catalog of captive super soldiers that I get to choose from?” The man shoots you a callous look as he sinks the needle into your arm and pushes the plunger down, administering the drug quickly. You feel the burning sensation all around the injection site as he retracts the needle and drops it on the metal tray table beside him.

            “Do you trust me?” He asks, turning away from you and peeling his gloves off. You watch him closely as he begins to clean up the various items on the tray table.

            “Fuck no.”

            “That’s fair, you don’t know me. But I know you. I know that you have all of SHIELD and a few other big-name agencies scrambling to rescue you. I know that you won’t be here for very long, and that Bucky Barnes being here was part of the plan to bring you home. I know that when I tell you I’m on your side, you won’t believe me for one second.”

            His claims catch you off-guard. You’re frozen, sitting on the side of the exam table with your knuckles turning white as your grip on the edge of it tightens. The man doesn’t spare you a glance as he finishes wrapping up his trash from the tray table and places it in a small plastic bag at his feet.

            “He killed a guard yesterday.” You process his words quickly, your eyes following his every move as he lifts the bag and heads for the door.

            “Why?” You ask quickly, keeping your tone low. You’re tempted to look over your shoulder and see if the camera is on, but if it is, you don’t want to draw attention to the fact that this man is giving you information you shouldn’t be getting.

            “Because apparently, you’re worth killing for.”

            “He wouldn’t have done it just for me, there would’ve been a reason.”

            “The guard was talking about fucking you.”

            An unfamiliar feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as the implication of the man’s words sink in. Bucky killed someone for you?

            Bucky killed someone for you.

            Bucky could reduce the metal restraints around him to fragmented pieces on the floor. He could shatter the walls of this damn chamber with a single punch, without even using his vibranium arm. He’s envisioning himself kicking down the door to the room violently, ripping the electronic keypad lock from the wall, and shoving it up any one of the guards’ asses. Sweat is beading across his forehead and dripping down his hairline as he struggles to hold onto reality. He can see you when he closes his eyes. He can feel your head against his shoulder and the soft skin of your thigh against his palm. You’re so unreachable, locked in your own cell with multiple concrete walls and a few hundred meters between you and Bucky, and yet, it’s as if you’re right in front of him. The image of you is taunting him, daring him to lose control.

            He doesn’t know how his touch soothed you in any way last night, not when the drug is wreaking this level of havoc on his own body. He can’t imagine finding relief in anything. He’s a trembling mess when a large team of guards descend upon the chamber. He doesn’t put up a fight as they remove him from the chamber restraints and place electronic cuffs around his wrists. The only thing that stops him from killing every single one of the men in the room right now is the fact that he’s sure they’re taking him to you.

            His brain is fuzzy, his thoughts jumbled and hard to sort through by the time he’s positioned in front of another metal door with an electronic lock. He has a brief moment of clarity when he sees one of the guards key in the code: 0371. Even with the swarm of bees buzzing around in his head, he commits the number to memory, just in case he needs it later.

            Bucky’s shoved forward into the room as soon as the door slides open, but with the lights low and his eyes not yet adjusted, he can’t see shit. He feels one of the guards moving to stand in front of him, removing his electronic cuffs, and then moving away. There’s a rush of cool air against his bare back as the door whooshes shut behind him. They never gave him his fucking shirt back.

            You see Bucky before he ever sees you. As you lie on your back, with your hands restrained out to the sides, you let your eyes roam over his disheveled body. His hair is messy and his scruff is a little more grown out than you’re used to seeing. Sweat glistens across his bare torso and forehead. His eyes are narrowed as he searches the dark room for any sign of you. You’re about to call out to him when the room is suddenly cast in a pale, dim glow, and his eyes land on you, lighting your skin on fire. You feel vulnerable as his blue eyes rake over your body, taking in the sight of you restrained and only partially covered by a thin white sheet. They let you wear a black sports bra and pair of black underwear beneath the sheet, but that does little to make you feel any more covered.

            A sharp pain starts to build in your lower stomach, spreading quickly down to your thighs and causing you to tense up beneath the sheet, bending your knees upward and letting out a soft groan. Bucky’s moving forward within a second, reaching the side of the bed and resting one knee on the mattress as he reaches for your restraints.

            “Don’t.” You choke the word out, shooting him a warning glance. Your eyes fall to the right, looking just past him, and he turns his head to follow your gaze. The wall behind him is made entirely of mirror, a two-way mirror, presumably. Fuck HYDRA for that. He can hear those fucking ground rules replaying in his head like a broken record as he turns to look at you once more, as his eyes take in the ropes tied tightly around your already bruising wrists. He knows what’ll happen if he touches those restraints.

            Bucky pulls his hand away from the restraints but leaves his knee propped on the side of the bed, looking down at you with concern as your face contorts with pain. He reaches down with his flesh hand, letting his fingertips ghost along your jawline, watching as your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. He can’t stand seeing you this way for the second night in a row. Fury and the rest of the team should’ve had you out of here by now. What the hell are they waiting on now that they have Bucky on the inside?

            “Bucky…”  His name is a near whimper when it leaves your lips. Hearing you say it in such a way has him pulling his hand back and retreating from the bed quickly, like you have something he doesn’t want to catch. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to get out of this.”

            You watch as Bucky’s eyes scrunch shut and his flesh hand moves to wipe a bit of sweat away from his forehead. You take a moment to let your eyes rake over the entirety of him. They definitely gave him the injection. You can tell by the way his pulse is visible in his neck even from a few feet away, by the way his chest rises and falls so much quicker than usual, and by the slight tent forming in the front of his tactical pants. You don’t let your gaze linger for long, not when you feel your pain and restlessness increasing just at the sight of him. You want him. You want him bad, and you’re afraid if you weren’t in restraints right now, you’d already be all over him. It’s fucking shameful.

            When Bucky lets his eyes focus back on you after taking a minute to gather himself, he finds you staring up at the ceiling, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to leave an indentation of your teeth. The bulge that’s already straining against the fabric of his pants only grows, and he wants to bang his head against the concrete wall for that. He can only hope you haven’t noticed it yet, but he’s sure you have.

            “What are our options here?” You ask, a slight rasp breaking through your normally smooth tone. Bucky can only assume it’s from all of the screaming you did the night before. He casts another glare in the direction of the two-way mirror wall, trying his best to look anywhere but at you.

            “I don’t think we really have options here.” He answers honestly, rubbing the palm of his flesh hand against the back of his neck. His eyes are coasting over the concrete wall behind the bed now, still avoiding you. He feels a dull ache throbbing at the base of his skull and slowly spreading down his spine the longer he remains standing.

            “I think we have a few.” Bucky raises an eyebrow at your statement, finally looking back at you. “We could refuse to do anything and see how long it takes for them to come in here and kill me.” Bucky narrows his eyes at your stupid suggestion, shaking his head slightly. You might think they’d just come in and kill you for refusing to cooperate but Bucky knows what they’d do. They’d take him out of the equation and bring in some other super soldier who wouldn’t think twice about taking everything from you. “We could do what they want, suffer through it, and pretend it never happened when we get out of here.”

            Suffer through it. Bucky feels physically ill just from hearing you describe it that way. You think you’d suffer through sex with him. And almost worse than that, you seem to think he’d suffer through sex with you. He’s ready to bring the concrete bunker to the ground with just a few punches in order to get you out of here so you don’t have to suffer through a damn thing.

            “Or we…” The words die on your lips as you watch Bucky’s muscles tensing and rippling with whatever pain or emotion he’s currently feeling. He looks pissed, honestly, and you’re not sure if that’s because of the situation you’re both in or because of something you said.  You swallow hard, audibly enough that Bucky can hear it from across the room. “Or we could fuck.”

            You’re not thinking straight, you can’t possibly be thinking straight. If you were, you wouldn’t have said that to Bucky just now, he’s sure of it. He’s holding his breath and keeping his brow furrowed as he stares at you, at the mouth that just said something to unhinged it sent heat flooding through his body. He’s staring at the mouth that he wants so badly to feel against his own, and for some reason, he can’t think of a damn thing to say to you. You shift under his gaze, repositioning your wrists so the ropes don’t pull as hard on your already bruised skin.

            “Say something.” You press, hating the silence that’s weighing heavy on your shoulders.

            “I don’t know what to say to that.”

            “I gave you three options.” A distant pain rumbles through your body, making your bones tremble.

            “And you want me to just pick one?” Bucky asks, sounding more and more on edge with every word. You inhale deeply and let out a sigh, choosing to stare up at the ceiling instead of staring at him any longer.

            “What the hell even are those options? The first one, refusing to do what they want, that won’t end like you think it will. The second option just makes me feel…” Bucky starts pacing at the foot of the bed, letting the dim lights highlight his toned body perfectly with every jarring step he takes. “The second option makes me feel like shit. Suffer through it?” He casts you a sideways glance that makes you feel bad for the way you worded things just a moment ago. “You’ve been suffering since the night you got here and I’m not going to have a hand in adding to that. But the third option? What the fuck are you thinking?”

            “I’m thinking it might be the only thing under our control.” You say softly, the meekness of your voice freezing Bucky mid-step. He’s at the center of the foot of the bed, slowly turning to face you head-on. He looks like a god from this angle and it makes you want to draw your knees up to your chest and close your eyes like a cowering child. He should look like shit. He should look as bad as you probably look right now after being held captive for so many days.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Not only are they behind that mirror watching us right now, but you know they’re recording every second of this.” Bucky’s blue eyes flit over to the mirror wall on his left and he scowls at it, as if he can see the horde of despicable men gathered behind it, just waiting for a glimpse of some action. “I don’t want there to be some video floating around one day where I’m just lying here beneath you in this bed, looking helpless while you just...I’ll be damned if I die down here and a video like that is the last anyone sees of me.”

            Bucky wants to reassure you, to tell you that there’s no way in hell he’d let that be the last people see of you. But he knows reassurance isn’t what you need right now. You need to feel like you have some semblance of control over your situation. He can see how that third option you listed is the only way you can fathom feeling like you have that control. Fuck. Is this really what it’s come to?

            “So, you want me to just…” His voice trails off, as if he’s scared to finish his sentence. The only thing you can think about is the way the fear doesn’t reach his eyes at all. There’s something else behind his blue irises, rimming his dark pupils as he stares back at you. It’s something so real that it causes a chill to spread along the surface of your skin, threatening to erupt into a tremble if you don’t tamp it down.

            “Fuck me.” You say, your voice a little shaky but still sure. “Fuck me like it’s something you actually want to do, like it’s something you wanted to do long before we ended up here.”

            Oh, you have no idea. You have no idea that it really is something he wanted to do long before you ended up here. You don’t have a fucking clue that Bucky has laid in bed more than one night in a row, listening across the hall as you get ready for bed. He’s waited until you’ve fallen asleep more times than he can count, before replaying a few key interactions with you in his head, letting his hand drift lower and lower down the front of his sweats until he wakes up the next morning full of shame. He looks you over carefully, from head to toe this time. His eyes rake over the shape of your body outlined beneath the white sheet, taking in every dip and curve in your form.

            With the way he’s looking at you, studying you, it feels like the concrete bunker has suddenly warmed up by fifteen degrees. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip nervously as you await some kind of response from the man that you just practically begged to fuck you. Bucky’s eyes track the small movement, and he finds himself wanting to feel your tongue against his own. God, he’s going to feel so ashamed after this, isn’t he?

            “You want me to fuck you.” He says slowly, bending forward at the waist until his hands come to rest on either side of your covered feet at the end of the bed. Your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds that position and looks into your eyes. He didn’t phrase it as a question, but it’s obvious he’s waiting for you to confirm it again. He isn’t going to a damn thing without confirmation. You nod quickly, swallowing hard and trying to look more sure of yourself than you’ve ever been. Bucky moves forward again, this time lifting one knee and placing it on the bed. Then the other, then the first leg moves again. He’s crawling over you in a way that has the entire atmosphere changing around you. It feels like the room is spinning, like the air is thinning out and the oxygen percentage is dropping dangerously low with every inch between you that’s lost.

            “I need to hear you say it.” He speaks lowly as he hovers above you, dropping his head down so his nose brushes against your jawline while one of his knees moves between yours gently, nudging them apart just enough for him to fit comfortably against you.

            “I want you to fuck me.” You answer breathlessly, letting your eyes flutter closed as his lips begin to ghost over your neck, moving closer and closer to your ear.

            “Again.” He rasps, taking your earlobe between his teeth like he’s done it a million times before and knows it’ll get a reaction out of you. Your back arches in the slightest as he bites down on your earlobe softly, causing your covered chest to brush against his bare torso.

            “I want you to fuck me, please.”

            “That’s it.” The words rumble in his chest and you feel the vibration against your skin. Suddenly you resent the sheet that’s acting as a barrier between the two of you. “Just keep reminding me.” Bucky’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck, right over the spot where he used his lips to check your heartbeat just one day ago. In one swift move, he’s tugging the sheet down and to the side, slipping himself beneath it letting the skin of his upper body collide with everywhere that yours is exposed. Instant relief floods through his body at the simple feeling of your warm skin against his. Whatever pain he was feeling is suddenly gone, diminished almost entirely. You’re all he needed. He positions one knee between your legs again, but a little higher this time, nearly letting it press against the fabric of your black panties.

            “I want this.” You whisper, your tone laced with need. He drags his lips from your neck, over the curve of your jaw, and along your cheek until he’s hovering right over your mouth. He wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you more than he’s ever wanted anything, but he won’t. He decides that now, as he’s staring down at your lips, wishing he knew what it felt like to bite down on one of them, what it felt like to slip his tongue between them. If he kisses you, he won’t ever be able to listen to you speak again, to watch the way you tug that bottom lip between your teeth when you’re thinking hard. He won’t be able to look at you without wanting your lips all fucking over his own every second of every damn day. So, he won’t kiss you.

            You’re sure he’s going to kiss you. As he hovers above you, his mouth just an inch away from yours, you’re expecting it. You’re a little disappointed when he dips his head to the side instead, dropping his forehead down toward your shoulder and nipping on the exposed skin there. But every trace of disappointment flees when he positions himself fully between your legs and grinds down, pressing the hardened front of his tactical pants against your clothed cunt with just the right amount of pressure.

            “You want this?” He asks, scraping his teeth along your shoulder as he grinds against you in small circles. A tortured moan escapes you and you tug against the restraints, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and pull him even closer. Your knees bend on either side of him but you resist the urge to entrap him with your legs around his waist. You won’t let yourself seem that desperate, that starved for his touch.

            “Bucky.” His name leaves your lips as a sultry moan, and he stills instantly. Though he doesn’t pull away from you, he stops grinding entirely. He bites down on your shoulder, a little too hard, leaving a little red mark in the shape of his perfect teeth.

            “You can’t do that.” He groans. He’s speaking so quietly that you doubt the cameras in the room will be able to pick up a word. You kind of like thinking that his words are only for you to hear. “You can’t say my name like that, not when they put this shit in my veins. I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “You won’t.” You don’t really know why you’re so sure, but you are. He won’t hurt you.

            “But I could.” He reminds you, slowly starting to grind his hips again. You can tell that your thin black panties are already soaked through with arousal. Can he feel it through his tactical pants? Can he smell how wet you are for him?

            “But you won’t.” You say again. Bucky reaches beneath the sheet with his right hand and slides it under your bent knee, moving your leg out to the side to spread you even more and give himself a better angle. Another moan falls from your mouth and he feels his body temperature rising to a dangerous degree. You’re right, he won’t hurt you. He’d never, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t fear that not-so-distant part of him that was always so capable of inflicting bodily harm. Especially this week, with everything that’s happened. That part of him is so much closer to the surface than usual. He fears that any little thing could make him snap and the Winter Soldier will take over before he has a chance to force it back down to the depths he keeps it locked away in. “Look at me.” Your command is soft but stern, easily earning you Bucky’s attention. He stills his hips against yours and lifts his head from your shoulder, doing exactly what you want when he looks into your eyes. “I trust you.”

            “You shouldn’t, not with this.” He argues, fighting the urge to drag the hardened length of his cock against your damp panties again. He’s starting to itch to get his tactical pants off, to remove some of the layers keeping him from fully feeling you.

            “I do, and you can’t really change that. I trust you to do this.” He almost growls at your words, hating the power you’re giving him. It’s only making things harder for him, in more ways than one. “What’s so wrong about me saying that I trust you to fuck me?”

            “Everything.”  He’s grinding into you again, but more fervently this time. Your head presses back into the firm pillow behind you and the soft sigh you let out has Bucky’s cock twitching in its confines. “Everything’s wrong. You’re tied to a fucking bed, covered in bruises and cuts, with a chemical influencing every thought in your mind right now, and you’re telling me that you trust me to fuck you. Shit…” His voice trails off for a moment as he hitches one of your legs around his hips and drives down against you a little harder, needing so much more of you than he’s taking right now. “That same chemical is influencing me and you think I can control myself? Enough to keep from hurting you?”

            Bucky lets his flesh hand slide up your waist beneath the covers, skipping over the curve of your breasts in an attempt to be respectful before traveling up the side of your neck. He grips your chin in that hand, holding your face still and forcing you to look at him.

            “What makes you so sure I won’t hurt you?” He has to know. When you search his blue eyes, you find so many things. Need, lust, desperation. But you also find fear, apprehension, and doubt. He needs to be sure that you’re really and truly okay with this or he’ll never be able to live with himself after it’s done. That much, you’re sure of.

            “Is this the first time you’ve ever thought about touching me?” Your question comes out as a whisper against his lips. His hips falter, but you aren’t going to let him stop this time. Keeping your leg hitched over his hip, you start grinding your hips upward, maintaining the pace he’d been setting. He narrows his eyes at you, his grip on your chin tightening for the quickest second before releasing. That same hand slides across your cheek, moves between your head and the pillow, and tangles tenderly in your hair.

            “No.”

            “Every other time you thought about it, did you ever imagine hurting me?”

            “Not once.”

            “If I told you that you were hurting me, would you stop?”

            “Yes.” He breathes the word out with ease. He doesn't even need to think about it.

            “Do you trust me to tell you if you’re hurting me?” The pause that ensues is loaded and the tension is almost crackling in the air around the bed. Bucky nods slowly, his eyes still narrowed and his hips still unmoving as you grind up against him yourself. “Then why do I feel like I have to beg for this right now?” A playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth and you know you’ve gotten through to him.

            “You would beg?” He asks, the smirk taking full form now. He leans down and takes your earlobe in between his teeth just like he did moments ago, but instead of biting down, he sucks on it gently. He releases it from his mouth after a second and starts dragging the tip of his tongue up the shell of your ear.

            “Is that what you want?” A tremble shakes your body as he lowers his full weight onto you.

            “I’d love to hear it.” He admits, whispering his answer so only you catch the words. “But if you do that in front of the men behind that glass, I’ll cut their ears off and shove them down their fucking throats before I kill them. I try not to do shit like that anymore, so don’t force my hand.”

            You’re reminded of the possibility that he might’ve killed someone for you last night, for talking inappropriately about you. You were unsure of it at first, but hearing Bucky talk this way makes it so much more believable. You’re stuck in your head when he rolls off of you, breaking the physical contact and leaving you both yearning for more. He’s lying beside you, tugging his tactical pants down and off in one swift move beneath the sheet, trying to figure how the hell he’s going to make it through this.

            Nerves are bubbling up in your stomach as you start to question everything. This is all just the influence of the chemical coursing through your veins, like Bucky said. But if that’s true, why does it feel so real? He’s back on top of you in an instant, now with only his boxers and your panties creating space between the two of you.

            “You get to have some control here too.” Bucky promises, sinking between your legs and placing his forearms on the bed on either side of your head. “If you want something, need something, tell me.” You nod just as he’s lowering his head down and attaching his lips to the column of your throat. The sweet combination of him kissing, licking, and sucking on your skin like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted has your back arching off the bed and your wrists fighting the restraints. What makes it even worse is the way his scruff combats the soothing actions of his mouth, leaving a light burn everywhere his face travels. You wish you could kiss him back the same way and show him how damn near insufferable it is to be the helpless one. “Are you sore from last night?” He asks as his flesh hand begins ghosting down your side. He traces the waistband of your panties with the tips of his fingers, back and forth slowly, teasing you as he waits for an answer.

            “A little.” You rasp, your throat feeling dry and tight with the building anticipation. You swear he almost smirks at your answer. His hand slides beneath your waistband and you’re having flashbacks to the night before. The pain was worse than anything you’d ever felt but Bucky’s hands between your thighs was the perfect antidote. Just as a new wave of pain is beginning to shoot down your spine, Bucky drags his fingertips along your wet folds, teasing just outside of your entrance, before dragging them up to your clit and applying a firm pressure there. You gasp, pushing down into his hand as much as the restraints will allow as the pain in your back instantly subsides.

            “That’s it.” He coos, taking in the way your pupils dilate at his touch. Your cheeks are flushed pink beneath him, and though he knows it’s mostly from the drug in your system, he can’t help the tiny bit of pride that swells in his chest. Bucky starts rubbing slow, steady circles against your clit, staying focused on your face the entire time. “There you go, just like last night.” He dips his middle and ring fingers downward until they’re threatening to slide inside of you, and you want nothing more than to buck against them, but you fight against the urge. Bucky notices your resistance and chuckles lowly, sliding his two fingers in to the first knuckle. “You wanted control, so take it. Don’t hold back on me.” He encourages, with his lips lowered down to your ear again.

            With his words echoing in your head, you let your eyes fall closed and your head press back into the firm pillow as he starts slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you. In and out, in and out. He peppers your neck with kisses before sliding his fingers in as deep as he can, and then curling them against your walls on the way out, coaxing a sultry moan from you with ease. With every pretty sound Bucky earns from you, he’s one step closer to losing his shit. He hates that his resolve crumbles more and more every time you so much as take a breath beneath him. He hates even more that there’s probably a room full of men that get to hear and see you this way, that it’s not just for him.

            Bucky can feel the effects of the drug growing stronger, sending repetitive pangs down his back and throughout his bones. He knows you must be feeling it too. It hasn’t reached its peak yet and he can only hope that what he’s about to do will be enough to keep that peak at bay for a while. His flesh hand continues on between your legs, with his middle and ring fingers thrusting in and out of you at a steady rhythm and his palm applying pressure to your clit. He rolls slightly to his side and uses his vibranium hand to start tugging his boxers down. He’s pushing all thoughts out of his mind when you’re on the brink of your first orgasm. When it’s tearing through you, bringing stars into your vision and a rush of heat where his hand is connected to your clit, he’s watching as you bite down on your bottom lip and lose touch with reality. You look painstakingly beautiful this way, so fucked out and vulnerable in a way that should be reserved for his eyes only.

            “Say my name.” He whispers, as your orgasm ravages your body. Before you even have a moment to think, his name is rolling off of your tongue and filling the concrete room. He feels like some kind of two-pump chump now, having to bite the inside of his cheek and damn near draw blood just to hold off his own orgasm. Precum coats the tip of his hard cock, threatening to drip onto your bare thigh if he doesn’t hurry up and do something about it. As your orgasm tapers off and aftershocks begin to work through your muscles, Bucky draws his flesh hand out from between your legs and hooks his index finger in the wet fabric covering your pussy. You’re barely recovered from the first orgasm when you feel him tugging your panties to the side and pressing the shaft of his cock against your wet cunt.

            “Shit, Bucky, let me catch my breath.” You pant, but the feel of his hard length gliding back and forth between your legs already has you wanting more. It has you wanting everything.

            “Catch it.” He encourages you, pressing his lips against your cheek in a chaste kiss. “But there isn’t really much sense in that when you’re just going to lose it again as soon as I start fucking you.” He has a point. You focus in on the way he’s grinding against you, dragging himself against your arousal-slickened clit from balls to tip repeatedly, but slowly. You don’t have to see him to know he’s well-endowed, and that scares you a little.

            “It’s…it might not fit.” You whisper. Concern is etched in your features as you blink your eyes at meet his gaze head-on.

            “It’ll fit.” He assures you. With another drag of his hips, the tip of his cock is brushing against your entrance before sliding right back up to your clit. He’s teasing you, teasing himself.

“It’s been a long time for me.” You admit. A soft blush colors your cheeks as he slows his hips to a stop and drops his head to your shoulder. You feel him sigh against the bare skin there and for a second, you fear you’ve said something wrong. Should you not have told him that? Does it make you seem weak? Afraid?

Bucky’s really struggling to hold himself back. He wants to grab the backs of your thighs, push your knees up toward your chest, and sheath himself within you so fucking hard and fast that you don’t remember what it’s like not to have all of him inside you. And now knowing that you haven’t been with another man in so long? It almost makes him giddy. He almost wishes you’d said you’d never been with another man, but that’s unrealistic, considering you’ve probably had a greater number of men begging at your heels than the number of men he’s killed over the years.

“What’s your favorite color?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. Bucky reaches down between your bodies with his flesh hand and wraps it around his shaft, stroking up and down slowly and carefully as he kisses your shoulder. God, even your skin tastes good.

“It changes all the time.” You answer, just as he’s using his hand to line himself up at your entrance. Your eyes scrunch closed in anticipation, knowing his size is going to be more than enough to cause a bit of pain.

“When I get you out of here, what’s the first thing you want to eat?” He drops more of his weight onto you, letting the head of his cock press much more firmly against your entrance. You feel it slide in just barely, so slowly that you’re unsure if it’s even moving forward.

“Whatever I can get my hands on.” You can’t think straight enough to come up with any specific answers, but he doesn’t care. He’s just trying to distract you enough so that you don’t focus completely on the stretch of him sliding inside you for the first time. He pushes his hips in a little more, feeling your cunt start to draw him in. So fucking tight. He groans lowly, needily, and nips at your shoulder.

“Do you remember that solo op you had in the club?” Bucky shouldn’t be getting so real, but as he sinks his cock into you inch-by-inch, his mind is drifting into dangerous territory. He’s starting to feel a little too animalistic with the way your cunt is practically weeping for him, begging him to go further. Bucky feels you nod and he pulls back from your shoulder, bracing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head again. He peers down at you just as his cock is reaching the halfway point within you. A loud moan escapes you as the stretch grows to be a little too much to bear. “I couldn’t stand to see that guy with his hands all over your ass.” He confesses. Suddenly, the burning pain his cock is causing you dampens significantly. You’re staring up at him, your lips parted as panting breaths fall from them, as his hands slide over the pillow to smooth out your hair.

“You barely even knew me.”

“I still barely know you.” He points out, giving you another inch, breeching that halfway point. Though your cunt is greedily pulling him in, he still feels the resistance within your tight walls. You weren’t lying when you said it had been a while for you. “But that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t like him touching you.”

“Bend one of my knees up, around your hip like you did before.” You whimper the request as he nearly bottoms out inside you. You know that angle will make it a little easier to take such an impressively sized cock. Bucky’s quick to comply, gripping your left thigh and crooking your leg over his hip. He holds it there with his flesh palm pressed flat against your skin and his fingertips digging into the back of your knee. There it is. With one gentle thrust, he’s balls deep inside of you and frozen in place.

Bucky imagines that this is what it would feel like if he had the privilege of going to heaven. Hell, just being buried inside of you like this, feeling your chest heaving beneath him and your back slightly arching off the bed is enough to kill him and send him there right now. He holds himself still, wanting to give you a chance to adjust while also giving himself time to calm down so he doesn’t start filling you up before he’s even really fucked you. It’s a feat, trying not to blow his load so soon with the way your pussy is gripping the entirety of his length. He feels your breathing slow and after one deep inhale, you relax beneath him.

“Good girl.” The pet name rolls off of his tongue the moment he feels you relax. Suddenly, you’re tense again, and one moan from you has him dragging his hips backward and pulling his cock halfway out. You scream his name as your wrists tug hard on the restraints, threatening to break the ropes. He hated hearing you scream last night, but this is different. Hearing you scream his name this way makes him fucking feral. He snaps his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that all you can do is cry his name out over and over. “And you didn’t think you could take me.” He says lowly. He starts to set a steady rhythm with his thrusts, in and out, in and out. He alternates between pulling his length halfway out and occasionally pulling it almost completely out before slamming it back into you a little harder each time. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours beneath the sheets fills the room, echoing off of the concrete walls and surely reaching whatever audio recording devices are around.

“This shouldn’t feel so good.” You groan, bending your right knee and hooking it around Bucky’s hip to match your other one. The new angle gives him access to go even deeper and with every thrust, you feel yourself dripping all over him and the sheets beneath.

“Yeah? It feels good, huh?” He punctuates his question with a particularly deep thrust and you cry out again, struggling against the restraints. “If you weren’t tied up like this I’d have you on all fours right now.” That’s it, the drug has to be peaking for him to be talking like that. You have no doubt. “I’d be watching you take every fucking inch of me over and over.”

“Stop saying shit like that.” You need him to stop talking, because if he doesn’t, HYDRA is going to have one fucking loud sex tape on their hands. Dirty talk is a weakness of yours, and every time Bucky speaks your moans are growing louder and even more filthy sounding.

“Just keep taking my cock.” Bucky groans out, as if you have much of a choice in the matter. You know you do, but with the way you’re feeling, your body wouldn’t give you one. You think your body might actually implode if you stopped taking his cock right now. “You’re doing so good for me.”  He reaches that specific spot inside you, one that men have rarely reached before, and it has your toes curling and your lungs gasping for air.

“Right there, oh my god, right there.” You whimper, straining just to get the words out whole. If he didn’t already know how pretty you sound when you’re close to an orgasm, he’d be scared he was hurting you. The tension in your voice, the gasping breaths you keep taking when he bottoms out inside you, and the way you keep trying to twist out of those damn restraints could easily be mistaken as the actions of a girl in pain. But Bucky knows you. You’re going to cum on his cock.

“If you’re ready to…fuck, baby.” Bucky grunts, fisting a hand in the hair at the back of your head and driving his cock into you impossibly harder. “If you’re ready to cum, just let go.”

“You first.” You say through gritted teeth. He chuckles, though you can tell his resolve is steadily slipping.

“Oh no, sweetheart, that’s not how this works.” His tone is almost condescending and if he wasn’t giving you greater pleasure than you’ve ever known right now, you might tell him to fuck off. “You’re going to cum on my cock, and I’m going to fuck you through your orgasm.”

“What happened to you get to have some control here too?” You ask, repeating his earlier words back to him as he continues rutting into you at a devilish pace and depth.

“I found out how good it feels to have you wrapped around my cock and I got greedy.” He responds, looking and sounding wholly serious. The most pathetic sounding whimper erupts from your chest as he pulls all the way out and slams back into you, almost too roughly for you to handle, but it feels so damn good. It’s like he somehow knows exactly how much you can take, and he pushes that limit just enough to blow your mind. “I’m going to do that one more time, and you’re going to cum on my cock.” It’s not a question. It’s a command. Knowing this is a fight you won’t be winning, you nod desperately and tighten your legs around his waist. He pulls fully out of you one more time, leans down and presses a kiss right at the corner of your mouth, and then snaps his hips forward. He buries himself to the hilt and starts grinding his hips into yours in circles, gifting you a type of pleasure that you’ve never felt in your life. As your orgasm washes over you and your pussy clamps down on his cock, threatening to hold it hostage inside of you indefinitely, you can’t help but feel a little sad. Your back arches off the bed and his fingers curl against the back of your scalp as a needy growl climbs up his throat, as he tries hard to fuck your unrelentingly tight pussy. Your heart aches with the thought that you won’t ever get to feel this again, that he’s just ruined you for every other man out there. Fuck him.

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

Bucky’s a mess in more ways than one as he presses his forehead against yours and his thrusts grow sloppy and lose rhythm. With one final deep thrust, his balls are flush against your ass and he’s cumming so deep inside you that he fears he’ll be giving HYDRA exactly what they want. He only feels a fleeting moment of relief before a sickening feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. He only got to have you this way, to experience you like this, at the hand of the organization that ruined his life. As much as he enjoyed it, and he thoroughly enjoyed it, it feels like it’s tainted. Shaking the negativity from his mind, he slowly starts to pull out of you, watching your face with concern as you wince.

“Did I hurt you?” He questions softly, peering beneath the sheet. He doesn’t see any blood on his cock, thankfully. He never would’ve forgiven himself if he drew blood from your sweet little cunt. You murmur a nearly silent no as his eyes fall on the white stream of his cum dripping out of you. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. She’s had enough.

Bucky slips two fingers between your folds, gently circling your clit twice before dragging them down and scooping up his cum. He fucks it back into you as tenderly as he can, with his brows pinched together in concentration. You lay there and take the moment in. It feels possessive. Though you’re sure everything that just went down only happened because HYDRA mandated it, something about the way he’s looking at you and making sure even a single drop of his cum isn’t wasted on the bedsheets has you biting down on your bottom lip. This right here feels like it’s real, like it’s just you and Bucky. You decide to cling to that feeling to keep from descending into a pit of shame and sadness.

            “Should we take him back to his cell now?” One of the guards asks. He stands tall beside the two-way mirror with his hands on his hips as he stares at the scene before him. He studies the super soldier, who looks so normal and humane lying next to you in bed. It’s difficult to look at him and imagine the Winter Soldier that the guard has heard so much about over the years. This man seems so different than the gory tales. As Bucky brushes your hair away from your face and rolls over to the side, the guard wonders just how far removed this man is from the legendary assassin.

            “No, leave them together. The drug will peak again in a couple of hours, I want to see how they handle it a second time.”

            “But we were told that—”             “I said leave them together.”

            You wake suddenly, disoriented and in a cold sweat. Your shoulders ache something fierce and when you try to roll over onto your side to figure out where the hell you are and why it’s so dark, you find your wrists tied to the corners of the bed. Shit. You know exactly where you are now. When did the lights get turned off? When did you even fall asleep? God, it’s just like last night, when Bucky fingered you to two orgasms and then you woke up hours later with no recollection of the events that occurred after the last bit of pleasure you felt. The soreness between your thighs and wetness seeping into the fabric of your panties is the only reminder you need of what happened earlier.

            You had sex with Bucky Barnes. Panic begins to set in and you start tugging against the restraints hard enough to break your skin, hard enough to draw blood. You don’t even realize that Bucky’s in bed next to you until you feel the mattress shift beneath you and hear his raspy voice break through the thoughts swirling around your head.

            “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He speaks to you softly, but sits up quickly and places both of his hands against the skin of your shoulders. You focus in on the contrast between his cool vibranium hand and warm flesh palm. “Just breathe.”

            Even in the dark of night, Bucky can see the thin trail of blood dripping down your arms, threatening to stain the white sheets beneath you. He thinks quickly, refusing to sacrifice the only piece of material fully covering you from HYDRA’s view. Bucky slides his flesh hand behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair and lifting up slightly so he can tug the pillow out from under you. Within two seconds, he has the pillow back under your head and is using the pillowcase to soak up the blood on each of your forearms. She stays in restraints. Bucky can hear the rule repeating in his mind, even as his fingers trail over rope cutting into the skin of your left wrist. If he squints, he can make out the bruises that have already formed from how tight they are and how hard you’ve been fighting against them tonight. He follows the length of the rope with his index finger, noting where it’s attached near the upper corner of the bed, to a metal loop bolted into the concrete wall. Fuck HYDRA. With one solid tug, the metal loop is flying out of the now cracked concrete wall. Relief takes over your features and your breathing begins to slow as Bucky grabs your wrist and moves your arm to your chest. He does the same thing to the metal loop on the other side, and then brings that sore arm in closer to your body as well.

            He stays close to your side, hovering over you protectively, waiting to see if anyone is going to burst through the door and whisk him away for breaking a rule. A few silent seconds pass and he starts to relax. When he focuses on your face again, you’re looking up at him, studying him closely.

            “What?” He asks, watching as you alternate between rubbing each of your wrists. Bucky lets himself fall back into bed beside you, switching to staring up at the ceiling instead of at your face. The drug hasn’t worn off yet and when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of what he did to you just a short time ago. It makes his dick throb in the worst way. He reaches down beneath the sheet and adjusts himself in his boxers, letting out a frustrated sigh.

            “I don’t think you were supposed to do that.” You whisper back. You maneuver the lengths of rope around so that they’re in a pile beside you on the edge of the bed. You wish you had a way to cut them off entirely, but still, this is so much better than how it was before.

            “I’ve done a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to do tonight.” The guilt is evident in his tone and it feels like a literal punch to the gut when you hear it. You want to reach over and grab his hand, to tell him that he did what had to be done and you don’t resent him for it, but you stay still. You can feel his body heat radiating and seeping into your exposed skin with how close the two of you are.

            “I’m sorry.” Why the hell are you sorry? None of this is your fault, yet you’re apologizing. Anger flares in Bucky’s chest and he sits up abruptly, turning away from you and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He assumes a sitting position, with his hands gripping the edge of the mattress and his head hanging low.

            “Don’t do that.” He says through gritted teeth. When he glances up, he sees his reflection in the mirrored wall. He can see his own heaving chest, his rippling abs, and his tensed flesh bicep, all of those things coming together to give off a vibe that says fuck off.

            “Do what?” You ask apprehensively, moving to sit up in bed as well. You keep the sheet draped over your lap but turn your body to peer over Bucky’s shoulder, catching his gaze in the mirror. His stare burns you up, and you quickly avert your line of sight, choosing to stare at the tense muscles of his bare back instead.

            “Apologize.” Bucky responds stiffly, screwing his eyes shut and inhaling deeply. He doesn’t want to risk seeing you in the reflection, not when the drug seems to be gearing up for a round two within his bloodstream. The room is starting to feel too small and too hot around him. “You know you didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t apologize.”

            “I feel like I did something wrong.” He doesn’t like hearing you so unsure, it doesn’t suit you. “I shouldn’t have asked you to fuck me like that earlier, I should’ve just—”             “Should’ve what? Said no and waited around for them to bring in someone who wouldn’t care if you wanted it or not?” He can hear the sound of his vibranium arm whirring as he squeezes down on the mattress a little harder just at the thought of you with someone else, specifically with someone who doesn’t give a shit about you. “You needed to feel like you had control over the situation, so you asked me to do it and…” His voice trails off, the rest of his sentence lost in the dark room.

            “Right, I asked you to do it.” You repeat his phrasing slowly. “So, why does it seem like you feel guilty?”

            “Because I do.” He grumbles, dropping his chin down to his chest again and breaking the staring contest he was having with himself in the mirror.

            “Why?” You press on, needing some kind of explanation. What could he possibly have to feel guilty for? He did what you asked, and only what you asked of him. He didn’t take it too far, he didn’t take advantage of you in any way. Bucky doesn’t answer. How does he even begin to explain why he feels guilty? Should he say that he feels guilty because it’s his fault that HYDRA targeted you in the first place? Should he say that it’s because he should’ve found a way to get you out of here long before they ever tied you to a bed and made him touch you?

            You watch the toned muscles of his back tense more and more in the dark. You notice the way his flesh bicep flexes and his vibranium one whirs louder with each passing second. You were the one panicking a moment ago, floundering in the dark before Bucky reached out and comforted you. Now it’s your turn to comfort him. You reach out a cautious hand, watching as the rope drags along the bed. When your palm collides with the skin of Bucky’s back, you feel him tense even more and freeze, as if he’s holding in a breath. You peek over his shoulder into the mirror as you push your hand firmly against him and start to drag it down toward his lower back. He doesn’t so much as lift his eyes to meet your gaze, and you take that as good sign. You shuffle forward on your knees, moving to sit right behind him with your thighs on either side of his hips and your chest close to his back.

            “What are you doing?” He asks lowly, keeping his head and eyes cast downward but sensing your movements. You continue to drag your right hand down until it’s nearing the waistband of his boxers. You’re trying not to think as you then turn your hand and slide your palm around his side and start feeling over the ridges of his abs. Your front is pressed flush against his back now and instead of pulling away, you swear you feel him lean into you the tiniest bit.

            “Stop talking.” You whisper back, moving your left hand beneath his vibranium arm and around his torso to meet your right hand over his abs. When Bucky feels your hands still and your chin pressing down on his right shoulder, he finally tilts his head up and steals a glance at your collective reflection. Shit. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his cock just from the way you’re wrapped around him and looking into his eyes.

            Bucky starts peeling your hands away from his skin slowly, moving them away from his torso before pushing off the bed and rising to his feet. Rejection stings. You stay right where you are, resting on your knees with your legs slightly spread, facing the mirror. You watch the man before you as he runs a hand through his already tussled hair and turns around to look at you.

            He can’t stand it. When he sees you sitting like that, looking up at him with such a gentle expression on your face, his cock twitches within the confines of his boxers.

            “Shit.” He groans, quickly turning away from you and scrunching his eyes shut. “You have to stop looking at me like that.” Realization dawns on you as your eyes land on the bulge behind the black fabric of the only item of clothing he has on.

            “Bucky—”

            “Don’t.” He’s speaking through gritted teeth again, and with your current view of his side profile you can see the muscle of his jaw ticking. “Don’t say my name.”

            “You liked hearing me say it earlier.” His eyes are back on you in an instant as a playful smirk threatens to spread across your lips. There’s a flashing image of those same lips gracing the shaft of his cock, but he shakes it out of his head as suddenly as it appeared. “What’s different now?”

            “They only needed us to fuck once.” Bucky points out, continuing to stare at the concrete wall. “We don’t have to do this a second time. You let your eyes roam over his body, taking in every detail you can make out in the dark room. It’s not over for him. The drug hasn’t cleared his system, and if anything, it looks as if it’s having an even stronger effect on him than before. Yet, for you, it’s dampened. You’re a little warm and you feel a bit of an adrenaline rush, but no waves of pain or agony are ripping through you right now. Your suspicion is confirmed when Bucky reaches up and grips his flesh shoulder with his vibranium hand, squeezing it as though his trapezius muscle is cramping up.

            “You’re in pain.” You say quietly, analyzing the way he reacts to your observation. He drops his hand from his shoulder and takes in a shaky breath before turning his head to make eye contact with you.

            “I’m fine.”

            “You’re not a very good liar.” He scoffs at your insult, reaching up to rub his shoulder again. You’re right. His shoulders are starting to feel like he’s been holding two-ton weights for hours and his back has been aching ever since he stood up from the bed and refused your touch. “Let me help you.”

            “You really want another round on camera for HYDRA? The first one wasn’t enough?” He spits the words out like venom, like you chose to give the enemy a sex tape. Anger surges within you and you cross your arms over your chest. Bucky’s eyes flit down, settling on your suddenly accentuated breasts as they threaten to spill over the top of your sports bra.

            “You’d rather them have footage of you cowering in the corner with a hard-on? Looking like a beaten down puppy?” He scowls, lifting his eyes from your chest to focus on your face.

            “I’d rather not take advantage of you twice.” His expression is serious as he speaks.

            “You didn’t take advantage the first time.” You argue. He stares at you with narrowed eyes and a fiery look behind his eyes. You can’t tell who he hates more right now, you or himself. “Stop looking at me like you want to kill me.” Your demand causes him to falter momentarily, his stern look and narrowed eyes shifting to a confused expression. Kill you? He wants nothing more than to either fuck you six ways to Sunday or get as far away from you as possible, he’d take either option right now. But killing you? It’s almost laughable that you’d think that’s what’s going through his head right now.   

            “If I wanted to kill you—”

            “I’d already be dead, right? Save the tough guy shit for someone else, that line is really overused.” You’re dismissive now, moving to sit with your legs crisscrossed in front of you, still facing a very on-edge Bucky Barnes. His eyes glaze over as he takes in the sight of your legs against the white sheets. He knows exactly what those legs feel like in his hands, hooked around his hips, wrapped around his lower half. Fuck.

            You watch as a million thoughts seem to be running rampant through Bucky’s mind. Seeing the way his eyes dart around and his tongue sticks out to wet his bottom lip makes it seem like he might actually be hearing voices or something. He clenches his fists and then unclenches them. He turns away from you and the bed, choosing to stare at the concrete wall for a few seconds before turning to the mirror and contemplating shattering it with the flick of his wrist. He turns away from the mirror and faces the only door in the room. There isn’t even a handle or keypad on the inside, there’s no way out of it unless he punches through the fucking concrete wall. He could do that, probably with even less effort that he imagines, but what would that get him? He might end up back in his own concrete cell, which is what he really needs right now, but what would happen to you? They’d find someone else to do what Bucky’s currently refusing to do. He clenches his teeth so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if he heard every single one of his molars crack under the pressure.

            “Does it hurt?” It’s as if a time machine has suddenly appeared and is sucking Bucky into a swirling vortex, dragging him back in time. The trigger being the question that’s just left your lips in such a soft whisper. You asked it just like you did the first time, the first time in the gym showers when you caught Bucky so off-guard that he thought about you for days.

            “Does what hurt?” He asks, remembering every single moment of that little conversation as if it was a script. Him remembering and repeating his line in such a slow, hushed way is what has warmth spreading beneath the surface of your skin. He listens to the rustling of the bedsheets as you push yourself off the mattress. He listens to the sounds of your ropes dragging across the floor as you make your way across the room, drawing nearer and nearer to him and effectively sucking all of the air out of his lungs as you do so. Your fingertips, so gentle and soft, dance across the scars where his vibranium arm meets his flesh. His eyes close tightly as you drag those fingertips down over his shoulder blade, and then further over to the right to trace his spine. Down, down, down you drag those fingertips, until he’s shuddering beneath your touch and all he wants to do it turn around and face you. Your fingers still right above the waistband of his boxers, and that’s when he decides to make a move.

            Bucky turns around as your hand falls away from him, and he finds himself only a couple of inches away from you. His mind is screaming at him to close the gap, to wrap his arms around you and eliminate the space between your bodies. But the memory of that night in the gym showers tugs at him even more than that resonating mental scream. A shiver runs down your spine as Bucky lifts his flesh hand to your face. He traces the curve of your jaw, from your right earlobe down to your chin with his index finger. His touch is so light and careful, so calculated and thoughtful as he meets your burning gaze. Your breath hitches in your throat when he starts trailing that same finger down, over the front of your neck and straight to the notch between your collarbones. His eyes follow the movement of his finger, setting your skin on fire with the combination of his touch and his watchful scrutiny.

            “You’re not wearing your necklace”. That’s what he said next that night, when he didn’t want to answer your question about his scars. It’s true again now. As his eyes settle on your chest, that little necklace with the built-in panic button is notably absent. Though you know that you could keep carrying on the little charade, that you could keep reading off of the script that you both seem to have memorized, your gaze falls to his chest. You study the silver chain hanging from his neck, following it down until you zero in on the two metal plates resting over his sternum. He lets his hand fall away from your neck as you reach up and hook a finger around the chain of his dog tags.

            “Give me yours.”

            There’s no more hesitation or apprehension when Bucky rushes forward, letting both of his hands capture the sides of your face and guide you in to meet him. He wasn’t planning on kissing you. In fact, he was specifically avoiding doing exactly that. He feels every nerve, every sensory receptor in his body firing at once when his lips press against yours. It’s like the fourth of fucking July beneath his skin as you part your lips to let his tongue delve into your mouth. You’re stumbling backward in an instant as Bucky begins taking steps forward, moving you in the general direction of the bed. He kisses you harder and harder with every step he takes, surely leaving your lips pink and your nose a rosy shade of red. You don’t even get a chance to break for breath until you feel the edge of the mattress hitting the backs of your knees. Your hands move to his abs and you push against the firm muscles there, fighting for balance so you won’t go crashing onto the bed.

            As Bucky pulls back, keeping his hands on the sides of your face and his gaze trained on your widened eyes, he realizes that he’s been fighting a losing battle not only with the drug coursing through his veins, but with you as well. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re having the same realization. He’s tugging the dog tags from his neck without giving the action a second thought. When he stands before you, with the silver chain clutched in his flesh fist and the two metal tags suspended in the air, it feels as though all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

            “If I let you wear these…” Bucky takes a deep breath in and shifts his gaze to the decades-old dog tags in his hand. “You don’t take them off until you have your necklace back.” He looks to your face, waiting for any sort of confirmation. You nod slowly, not even thinking about his request. You’ll do it. You’d do anything he asked of you right now with the way he’s looking at you, with the way he just kissed you. He slips the cool chain over your head gently, ensuring it doesn’t get tangled in your hair as he settles it around your neck.

            Seeing his name around your neck awakens something feral, something so fucking primal inside of him. Bucky bites down on his bottom lip as you reach up with your right hand and grasp the tags, running a thumb over the indentation of his name.

            “Bucky.” Your voice is always a little different when it’s his name being spoken. He can’t quite describe in what way it’s different, but it always does something to him. He bites down on his bottom lip a little harder and lets his hands move to your waist, smoothing over your skin and tugging you forward against him. “Let me take advantage of you.” Every single muscle in his body stops working, all except for his heart. He can’t even fucking swallow as his heart beats against his ribcage like it’s gone into overdrive. He’s sure even you can feel the rapid thrumming of it, vibrating against your own chest with how close he’s holding you to himself. If you can’t feel that, you can sure as hell feel the outline of his hard cock pressing against your lower stomach right now. He sees nothing but sincerity and lust written across your face and swirling around in the color of your eyes. So, he responds with the only sentence his brain can come up with.

            “Take advantage of me.”

            Though things happen so quickly, HYDRA’s cameras capture everything. When the two of you fall backwards into bed, the man observing you both from behind the two-way mirror is on the edge of his seat. Out of all of the ways the second round could’ve started, he didn’t expect it to start quite like this. He watches with his mouth hung open as the Winter Soldier presses you impossibly further into the mattress, kissing you with a fervency not many people have had the privilege of experiencing before. The man pushes out of his chair and moves to stand closer to the mirror when Bucky starts rutting against you, grinding himself between your legs in a desperate attempt to find relief. But when you hook a leg over Bucky’s hips and skillfully flip positions so that he’s on his back and you’re straddling his lap, with the flimsy bed creaking beneath you both, the man behind the mirror is truly shocked. This isn’t what he expected at all. He nearly put a stop to things the moment Bucky ripped your restraints out of the wall, but seeing this now, he’s glad he didn’t. Hell, if HYDRA doesn’t get the stem cell experimentation capabilities that they want out of tonight, they could get a big payday with the video footage of this alone.

            Covering up with the sheet doesn’t cross either of your minds as you hook a finger in Bucky’s waistband and start pulling his boxers down his thighs. You only pull them down enough to free his dick, and watching it spring up toward his stomach is enough to have you wanting the boxers on the damn floor. But still, you won’t go that far, not here. You don’t give yourself much time to admire his impressive length as you wrap your hand around it and start stroking from base to tip, spreading his precum along the shaft. Bucky’s lost in the feeling, so lost that he doesn’t even realize how many times your name has fallen from his lips, and you’re not even fucking his cock yet. When he groans your name in an especially needy way, you’re already tugging your panties to the side and pressing your wet cunt against his shaft, dragging your hips back and forth in quick succession.

            “Shit.” Bucky groans lowly, gripping your hips with both hands and pulling you down harder against him. “Just like that.” He learned yesterday just how far encouragement goes in getting you off. You grind against him like that, alternating between quick movements with your hips and slow, lazy circles, until you can’t stand it anymore. You feel empty and your pussy is aching for him. His face is contorted with pleasure and his eyes are screwed shut, but you can read him well enough to know that he needs more too. Your gaze travels down to where you’re seated against the shaft of his cock, noting the way the head of it glistens with a mix of his precum and your arousal. God, it’s such a sight. Your head is swirling with dangerously horny thoughts as you lift your hips and wrap your hand around his length once more. Giving it a few strokes, you line it up with your entrance.

            “Don’t hurt yourself.” Bucky warns, watching you with narrowed eyes and a slightly concerned look on his face. You know you should listen to him and take it slow. He’s so big and as if his length wasn’t enough, his girth alone could take a girl out entirely. You laugh softly, thinking about how he was telling you take his cock just a couple of hours ago. You sink down, taking the tip in painfully slowly, focusing on the burning pain as your walls stretch to accommodate him. Then, just to spite him, you sit down on the entirety of his cock all at once, crying out at the mix of pain and pleasure. “Fuck, what did I just say?” Bucky groans out, digging his fingers into the skin of your waist as he tries to lift you back up. You fight against him, staying seated on his cock as tears form in your eyes. “Get off, it’s too much for you.”

            “No.” You say defiantly, willing the muscles tightening around his length to relax as much as they can. With each passing second, it burns less and begins to feel more tolerable, more enjoyable. “I can take it like this.”

            He’s going to lose his shit. Bucky’s seconds from either cumming so hard that it’ll be spilling out of you for days or picking you up, pressing your back against one of the concrete walls, and fucking you until you can’t even take a breath without feeling the ghost of him inside you. He watches through hooded eyes as you start circling your hips, as you let your head fall back and your hands brace against his bare chest. He catches sight of his name draped around your neck, hanging between your breasts, marking you as his and he can’t help himself. He thrusts upward just once, feeling you clench around him and memorizing the pretty sound that erupts from your chest. Again. He needs to feel and hear that again. So, he thrusts a second time. Then a third. Then, he’s meeting every bounce of your hips with one of his own.

            “That’s it, take advantage of my cock.” He coos, matching your pace as your fingers curl against his chest and leave red marks in their wake. He wants more of you, he wants you closer. His eyes land on the ropes still tied around your wrists, and without thinking, he’s moving his hands from your waist and gripping one rope in each palm. He tugs on them hard, pulling you down abruptly so you fall against his chest. You’re skin to skin now, with his cock buried so deep inside of you that you think your pussy might be molding to the shape of it with each passing second. “Do you have any idea how good this feels for me?” He whispers the question against the skin of your neck, pressing his lips to your pulse point right after he’s spoken. “Do you have any idea how perfectly your tight little cunt wraps around my cock? How badly it makes me want to cum?” The volume of your moan would be almost embarrassing if everything he was doing and saying didn’t make you feel an unmatchable level of pure bliss.

            “Please,” you plead through panting breaths, working hard to keep bouncing your hips in your current position. “Please cum inside me again, Bucky.” You sound desperate but don’t give a single fuck. “It felt so good the first time.”

            “Fuck, you need it, don’t you?” He asks, thrusting up into you a little harder and sliding his hands down your sides. He grips your ass with both hands and puts even more force behind each upward snap of his hips. The sounds in the room are obscene and borderline pornographic as he fucks you senseless. “Whose name is around your neck right now?”

            “Yours.” You cry out, dropping your head to his half flesh-half vibranium shoulder. His right hand disappears from your ass, but only before a second before it’s slapping back down with a resounding smack, earning him a gasp and arched back from you.

            “Say it.” He orders, massaging his palm against your reddening ass cheek. You scream his name out only a moment later, as your orgasm is turning your brain to mush and your pussy to a fucking ravine. You’re barely aware when he rolls you over and starts fucking you into the mattress like his life depends on it. You feel the warm gush of his cum filling you up, the few sloppy final thrusts as he empties himself entirely, and then the weight of his body collapsing on top of yours. The only thing your brain seems to be thinking about is how deeply fucked you are. You’ve never been more sure of anything than you are of this, right now: Bucky’s gotten so far under your skin that you won’t be able to shake him when all of this is over.

            You’re fast asleep beside him when the world tilts on its axis. When the explosion happens, Bucky doesn’t even have a moment to reach over and grab you, to pull you to his chest and try to protect you from the rain of concrete and debris. He can only watch as you’re thrown violently against the far wall, crashing against the concrete with a silent thud as a sharp ringing sound takes over Bucky’s hearing. He’s tossed in the opposite direction, feeling every little cut and rip of his skin as his body is cast through the two-way mirror on the other wall. It’s the last thing he remembers before blacking out, that he didn’t protect you when everything came crashing down.

            “I’ve got something over here!” A deep male voice calls out. It’s grating to your ears, almost like nails on a chalkboard. Everything sounds too far away yet too close at the same time, and your head is throbbing in the worst way. You want to yell out and tell everyone to be quiet, to let you sleep a little longer. Something tugs against your neck, and you want to reach out and swat away whoever is nearby, but you find yourself too weak to even move your arms. Your eyes remain closed and your body remains still. You just want a little more sleep. “Dog tags!”

            “Is it Bucky?” A second voice sounds, this one a little higher pitched and quieter. You try to blink your eyes open at the familiar name, but it feels like they’re covered in sand and it burns the second your eyelashes flutter, so you stop. Swallowing thickly, a cough creeps up your throat and barely manages to scrape past your lips.

            “No, no it’s…” That’s when you feel a warm hand wrap around your own, intertwining its fingers with yours and squeezing once. “It’s her. I think she’s alive. We’ve got her.”

            “Someone get a medic crew down here now!” The higher pitched voice grows louder and your head throbs more intensely. If everyone would just take it down a notch you could get a little more rest. “Let Fury know she’s coming home.”

            Home. The word sends a fuzzy feeling, something like relief maybe, buzzing through your mostly numb body. You’re going home.

BONUS PART (will be linked here June 7th, 2024)

TAG LIST:

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[forsworned]

It’s said canonically that simon riley has trauma around intimacy from torture 😔 If you feel comfortable writing it, can I please ask for a short fic of an Afab reader body worshipping/lovingly pleasuring Simon after they both work through his trauma and he’s getting all soft and emotional and babbling about how good reader is making him feel and how much he loves them and can’t believe someone cares about him this much? I always liked the idea of Simon being portrayed as vulnerable and soft and not this dom sex god a lot of people portray him to be. I really love your work and would love to see your take on this request :)

Soft ft. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Author's Note: So I do recall someone making a post about this and I have to say I do not agree with everything. Men definitely process trauma, specifically sexual trauma a lot differently than women do. While women experience guilt, men experience anger. And maybe it's not all men who experience it that way, but after reading the comic and making my own assessment, I can say that Simon does have lingering anger. Of course, he is hell-bent on avenging his dead family, but all that pent-up energy could be going toward trying to even the score. He is pretty level-headed and able to compartmentalize. He has support from his comrades as well as undergoes mandatory rigorous mental health assessments because that's military protocol. He needs to be able to perform his duties on the field without putting himself or others at risk. He also most certainly gets mandatory counseling. Although he may be reluctant, his superiors are very much aware of the possible impact that it has on his mental health. So all that to say that Simon is not without help. He is not as "damaged" as people may perceive him to be. He's not a broken individual. As seen in the remastered MW's, albeit reluctant he can clearly put his trust in others. He develops relationships with the people who he works closely with meaning he is capable of change. SIGH. I just wish people would break this down a little more, but I do get what you're saying. His masculinity, trust issues, and the type of secret operations he goes on can lessen the effectiveness of the therapy. He's definitely a very complex character with layers to him, but I just don't think he's as weak as you may think he is. It's also important to note that it hasn't been confirmed that this current Simon went through the same thing. He could have a completely different background. Honestly, Activision is so fucking inconsistent but ANYWAYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope you enjoy this. Also if you read this all the way through, I applaud you. But thank you for enjoying my work, I didn't mean to critique you and your request, but I just couldn't let it slide LOL

Warnings: PnV sex, AFAB!Reader, Some Canon Simon Lore, Sexual Content, Mentions of Sexual Trauma

"Si—Simon..."

You sigh out in pleasure with every roll of your hips as you grind down on him. Your clit grazes against his lower abdomen, and his cock stretches you out pliant. Fingers dig into his shoulders, marking half crescents into his pale, scarred skin. But something feels off.

His hands loosen their grip on your hips, and upon opening your eyes you find him his half-lidded gaze distant in a familiar haze. He isn't present.

"Simon." You halt the rutting of your hips, cupping his stubbly cheeks. "Are you alright?"

His onyx hues fixate on you. He is clearly readjusting his withdrawn eyes to refocus on you. You didn't want to say it yet, but you had felt him go a little soft a few seconds prior. "We can stop."

"No, no." His fingers squeeze your middle as he sits up a bit. You shake your head, but he's not letting up. "Why stop?"

You firmly grasp his face and his blonde lashes flutter up at you with a seemingly unreadable expression, but you're no stranger to Simon's detachment. Although he loathes to admit it, it happens. The relearning of being intimate is tumultuous for him.

"Because you're not mentally here, my love."

He frowns. "But I want y'to finish."

You exhale sharply. He doesn't even deny it. "No, Simon. I'd feel disgusted with myself if I finished while you weren't here with me."

He struggles to reply. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to say. It's not exactly a common occurrence, but he's not too keen on having a conversation about it. You never pry though. His therapy sessions are his own, unless, of course, you join him if he so desires.

Couples counseling is mandatory. A rule you established when you first decided to tie the knot. If you had problems that were beyond just a sit-down talk, a professional would have to intervene. And Simon agreed. No fuss, no muss. To preserve the sacredness of your relationship, he'd do anything.

He sighs. "'m sorry, dovie." He caresses your sides, feeling the gooseberries on your skin rise. A small smile adorns his lips and you giggle at his smugness.

"Stop it." You begin to get off of him, but Simon holds you firmly. You feel his dick harden inside of you, now kissing your cervix. A little gasp escapes your chest as you readjust yourself.

"Y'like tha'?" Simon's grinning now. It's his confidence gleaming through the abysmal darkness of his mind. The life in his eyes feels revitalized, and you now feel his vigor—literally.

"Yes, but..."

"'m here, love." He reaffirms, squeezing your waist again. "'m here. Please, 'm achin' for you."

He groans a bit and bucks his hips when he feels you pulsate around him. You return your own moan, leaning forward but his fingers thread through your hair and he brings you into a sloppy, heated kiss. His hips thrust into you slowly and deeply, earning a guttural moan from him.

For a moment as you withdrew from the kiss, your gazes meet and Simon's eyes soften and become glossy with tears that brim over his oculars and spill over the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, baby." You coo, holding him close as you kiss his face. His sadness is silent, yet palpable. You're now babbling sweet, sweet words to him as you pepper him with kisses, and Simon holds you as if you're going to slip away. You gently guide him through the double inhale technique you learned from your therapist, and with the sweetness of your voice, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch, he feels at ease.

"I dunno how y'put up with me."

You grin, kissing the corner of his lip. "It ain't easy."

"Oh?" He flips you over on your back, pressing you firmly against the mattress and you giggle into the nape of his neck. "Wanna say that again, love?"

You thread your fingers through his sandy blonde hair and kiss the tip of his nose. "You're not hard to love, Simon."

His eyes soften once more and he kisses you deeply. Simon has never cherished anyone more in his life. You were always so patient and kind from the jump. You were truly the "greater woman" behind the "great man".

He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes as you gently card your fingers in his hair.

"Thank you, lovie."

[acotarxreader]

Stress Relief

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't

A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!

Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )

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“YN you need to fucking relax”

“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand. 

“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”

“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”

“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled. 

“I’ll relax once we get there”

“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”

“Why are you so fucking anno-”

“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.

“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”

“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background. 

-

You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own. 

“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”

“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel. 

“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks. 

“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case. 

“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree. 

You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder. 

“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?” 

“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness. 

“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you. 

“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.

“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest. 

“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” 

“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest. 

“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag. 

-

“Hey! YNN! Wake up!” 

“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state. 

“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud. 

“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up. 

“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you. 

“Az” you bit out. 

“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”

“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent. 

“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.

“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying. 

“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.

“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek. 

“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy. 

“We’d miss you” he admitted

“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased. 

“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin. 

“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life. 

“I swear I’m going t-”

“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag. 

Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go. 

“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion. 

You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you. 

“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”

“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again. 

Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning. 

“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-

“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won. 

Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage. 

You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning. 

“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything. 

“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away. 

“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?

-

You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory. 

“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment. 

You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian. 

-

The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian. 

“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?” 

“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall. 

“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed. 

“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair. 

“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face. 

“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud. 

“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.

“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake. 

“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile. 

-

After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up. 

“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire. 

“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”

“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.

“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock. 

“I know everyone I said-”

“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words. 

“I know Az but-”

“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding. 

“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”

“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him. 

“I better go-”

“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing. 

-

Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels. 

“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender. 

“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out. 

“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone. 

“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.

“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought. 

“What have I done to you?”

“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders. 

“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so. 

“What?”

“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.

“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.

“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.

“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”

“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.

“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me YN”

“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.

“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”

"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.

“YN- you’re my-”

“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.

“Now you really can’t leave me”

“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.

“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“I want all of you”

Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.

“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it. 

“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.

“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. 

“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state. 

“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure. 

“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly. 

Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. 

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest. 

“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.

“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”

“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”

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Whatcha think friends!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey can I use my 13,700+ followers for good for once?

a lot of people expressed surprise the other week when I mentioned a local pride event that's gated and costs money to attend, and I agree wholeheartedly with everyone who finds that fucked up and distasteful.

well, there's a petition going around right now to start changing that. they're only asking for 100 signatures, but I think you guys could blow that out of the water 👀 take three seconds to sign and reblog?

[coff33andb00ks]

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

[alastor-simp]

Hugging Them Out Of Nowhere - I.M.P Gang + Stolas x Reader

❥WARNING: Will contain some swear words/profanity

❥Notes: Here we goooooo! Starting to write for the Helluva Boss series now. It might take a while for me to get in depth with some of the characters especially Blitz since hes a very chaotic character, but I'll try my best. There will be hints/spoilers from the other episodes in the series.

Based on last weeks episode, Blitz and Stolas deserve these hugs!!!

I will do more for the other characters like Fizz and Verosika soon. Enjoy you guys:)

Blitzø🐴

🐴Hugging Blitz was not very common at I.M.P. He was a very touchy feely with everyone at work especially with Moxxie and Millie. There were many work group hugs that he initiated with the rest of you, which was met with not a lot of enthusiasm back, well except from Millie.

🐴Finding a job was an IMP wasn't very easy since many of the work establishments used imps as either slaves or whatever paid the lowest amount since imps were on the bottom of the food chain. Seeing the silly jingle for the Immediate Murder Professionals on TV, you quickly came to look for a job and were introduce to everyone by Blitz. Blitz was.....well he was an okay boss. There were moments where he was a downright dickwad and others where he showed a compassionate side, but it wasn't commonly seen.

🐴Your relationship with him started off just being employee and boss, but it soon changed to friends as time went on. There was more to Blitz that met the eye and you had seen the sides of him that not many others saw and it made your heart ache. You doubt if even Loona knew about it and she was Blitz adopted daughter, but their relationship was kinda rocky.

🐴Sitting on the lounge couch in the I.M.P office, you jumped a bit when the door slammed opened. Blitz had walked in, but he wasn't in an upbeat mood like he usually was. His face was in a deep scowl and there were big dark circles under his eyes. He barely even reacted when Millie shouted a "Good Morning Boss" at him, as he sluggishly walked towards his office and slammed the door, leaving you and the others alone.

🐴"Umm...is he okay?" you were the only one who spoke, while the others just continued about their day. "Don't know, don't care." was the short response you got from Loona, as she sat with her legs on the desk, typing away on her phone. Moxxie just shrugged his shoulders and said that "Sir usually has moments like this and its best to leave him alone." Your eyes looked back at the door to Blitz office, contemplating if you should go and seem him. Heaving a deep sigh, you got up from your position on the couch and made your way over to the door.

🐴Looking into the room, you see that the room was dark, with small beams of red light coming from the blinds in the window. Blitz was sitting on his chair, head resting on his arms that were folded on top of the desk. Making your way slowly towards him, you called out his name softly.

🐴"UGHHHH! FUCKING CHRIST ON A STICK! CAN'T A GUY JUST HAVE SOME ALONE TI-" He stopped mid-sentence in his rant, as you had wrapped your arms around, giving him a hug. Blitz had no idea how to respond this your actions, as he stayed still, tail moving back and forth. "If you think offering sexual favors is going to increase your pay, then think again." Blitz grumbled out, but he raised an eyebrow when he heard you give a soft chuckle.

🐴"I'm not doing this for sex Blitz. I'm trying to make you feel better. I don't know whats going on with you, but I'm here if you need to talk about it." Not a word was said after that, as you continued to hold Blitz. His body was tense throughout the whole hug, but you felt him slowly relax against you. You felt something long wrap around your abdomen, pulling you closer towards him. You quickly realized it was his tail, and moved closer into the hug.

🐴After a few minutes, the hug slowly came to an end, as Blitz unwrapped his tail from you, allowing you to step back. Blitz's red irises held a bit of softness in them, as he continued to stare at you. He turned his head away, but one of his hands made his way up to your head and gave it a slight pat. "Thanks for that." he said to you, as his hand fell from your head. You smiled back and gave a small nod. Blitz then lifted his head and was wearing a large smile. "Alright time to get ready to kill some fuckers for our clients. MOXXIE! GET YOUR FAT ASS IN HERE!"

Moxxie🔫

🔫Starting as a new employee at I.M.P had you nervous, causing you to fiddle with your hands. You didn't know how the others would be, fearing they would hate you upon first seeing you. Surprisingly, they were kind people, as you were offered a huge hug from the imp named Millie and a little wave from her husband Moxxie. The hellhound seemed a bit antisocial when you saw her, but she was nice enough to give you a small head nod before going back to her cellular device.

🔫Your skills in fighting were subpar, but Moxxie and Millie were kind enough to train you. You had gotten closer to them over time especially Moxxie, but not in the romantic sense, you saw Moxxie as a big brother. You loved how passionate he was about singing and creating songs, and you adored how he soft he was for his wife.

🔫There were moments you felt really bad for Moxxie as he had to endure the nasty insults that either Blitz or Loona would throw at him. You still couldn't figure out why they kept calling him fat, like what? You were always there to cheer him up though whenever he was having a bad day, especially after having to deal with Blitz all day.

🔫Today was a bit of an odd day as a helicopter had arrived to pick up Moxxie, along with Millie and Blitz. You couldn't figure out what was going on, but you decided to stay behind in the office in case something happened and to watch over Loona for Blitz. They were gone for a while and had returned back in the afternoon, but this time Blitz was wearing a leather jacket and Moxxie was in a wedding dress? Curious you asked what the hell happened and Millie was kind enough to tell you everything.

🔫Your heart ached for Moxxie when you found out about his horrible father. You honestly wished you had gotten on the trip so you could stab his father in the face. Your eyes glanced over to look for Moxxie but he had slip away from you. Wondering where he went you followed after him. Leaving the room, you wondered out in the hallway and peered to see where he went. The last place you checked was the public restroom, so you went inside there.

🔫The bathroom wasn't the best but it wasn't the worse, since the toilets actually worked, but the floor definitely needed a cleaning and the mirrors needed replacing. You heard the sound of sniffles coming from one of the stalls and walked closer to it. Opening the stall door slowly, you looked inside to see Moxxie sitting on the toilet. He was still wearing the dress, and his legs were up on the seat, covering his face with them, as he had his arms and tail wrapped around his legs.

🔫"Moxxie?" calling out his name, you slowly entered the stall, closing the door behind you. He jolted upon hearing you call his name, removing his face from his legs, showing his tear streaked face. "Oh crumbs. Sorry I'm..I'm alright, don't worry about me." He tried to play it off that he was alright, but you can tell that his smile was forced. moving closer, you dropped down to your knees, inching closer to wrap your arms around him in a hug. No words came from Moxxie when you did this, but you heard the sounds of whimpering coming from him, as he moved his arms to wrap you in a tight hug, moving his head to cry on your shoulder.

🔫Placing your hand on his back, you rubbed it to provide him comfort as he continued to cry. It sounded like he was okay now as the sounds of his crying had stopped and his breathing had returned to normal. "What has you so upset, Mox?" Pulling away, you continued to stay on your knees to look at him. "Just....I feel so useless. I never wanted to go back to my old life, and the time I do, I finally get to stand up to my father, only to be knocked out like a weakling. I should have killed him, I could have but I didn't, and I almost got Millie and Blitz hurt because of me." "Moxxie stop!" Moxxie clamped his mouth shut, upon hearing you yell. "From what I heard from Millie, you opposed your father and even threatened him, and to me that is anything, but weak. You defended the love of your life, and told your psychopathic father to F off, so whatever negative thoughts you having going on in that head of yours, tell them to F off too."

🔫Moxxie eyes widen as he heard you talk, before returning to normal. The sad look on his face was replaced with a soft smile, as he wiped his tears away with his hand. "Haha thanks Y/N." Smiling back, you stood up from the ground and reached your hand out to grab Moxxie's, lifting him from the toilet. "Come on, lets get you out of that dress, even though you look very cute in it." A pinkish tint appeared on Moxxies face, before he yelled a "Hey!" and punched your arm, causing you to laugh.

Millie🪓

🪓Your first impression of Millie was not what you expected. You were very surprised that someone as kind and sweet as her was from the Wrath ring. The memories from your encounter in the Wrath ring gave you PTSD and you never wanted to experience that again, but Millie was making you slowly change your opinion.

🪓She was the definition of a hellish southern belle. Her country accent was adorable and the warmth she expressed with everyone was very motherly. You did see more of her violent side during your missions, but she was far from scary, badass was the word to describe it.

🪓The both of you had become two peas in a pod when you started working at I.M.P. The both of you participate in girly hobbies like going to spa trips and clothes shopping, but it did become target practice training on some days, as you really needed to improve your combat skills and Millie was kind enough to help you with that.

🪓It was very rare to see her in a depressive state, but you had seen it first hand during the mission at Camp Ivannakummore. You had just spotted Millie and Moxxie arguing about the mission and Millie running off crying, upset that Moxxie wasn't giving her a chance to shine. You weren't upset with Moxxie as it was clear he felt horrible for upsetting Millie. You told him to go do what he had to do and that you would go check up on Millie.

🪓It took a while, but you were able to find Millie, sitting behind the curtain on the stage at the camp. She was still upset as she still had tiny pinpricks of tears on her eyes. She spotted you and try to play it off, but you had run up to her and gave her a massive hug. Millie raised her hands up in shock, before looping her arms around your back, hugging you back super tight. "Are you okay?" you whispered.

🪓"I'm alright, suga. Don't worry about me." Millie said, as she tightned her arms around you more, making it hard to breathe. "Ack, can't breathe!" Millie gasped and removed her arms around, waving her arms up in the air. "Oh gosh! I'm so sorry. I forget my own strength sometimes. Ya alright?" Millie kept checking to make sure you were okay to which you responded with a thumbs up. "Moxxie felt bad about what had happened, and I'm pretty sure he's gonna come around and apologize to you. Come on, go out there and perform Millie. You gonna knock their socks off."

🪓A bright smile returned to Millie face, as she gave you another hug, yelling out Thanks, before she let go and made her way up to the stage.

Loona🐺

🐺Awkward, was the word to describe your relationship with Loona at the beginning of when you two first met. You honestly had no idea how to approach her since she seemed very unamiable with everyone, including her adopted father, Blitz. Her personality tended to shift to being very sarcastic to angry rebel, and you had no idea which one you were going to get when you talked to her.

🐺Blitz noticed your attempts to bond with Loona and it actually warmed his heart, as he did noticed that Loona didn't really have many friends except Vortex. He hatched a plan to get you two to become friends by inviting you over for a sleepover. You were happy that Blitz wanted to help, but you still felt this was overdoing it.

🐺Entering inside Blitz home, you scanned the walls, observing the pinned up photos and decor. You spotted Loona, who was sitting on the couch, who leaned her head back to look at you before putting it back up. Blitz had appeared from the bathroom, and noticed you at the door. "AH, you made it! C'mon, sit right here next to Loony!" Blitz had dragged you by the hand to the couch and made you sit down. "There we go, now the both of you are gonna have a fun bonding sleepover party. I'm gonna go out and hang out with Fizz, so both of you have fun!" Blitz said with excitement as he literally ran to the door yelling out a "BYE LOONY TOONY! LOVE YOU!" before slamming it.

🐺Now it was only two, alone in the living room. You had no idea what to do, so you just moved your eyes around the room, taking in everything. You smiled at some of the photos of Loona and Blitz, especially the adoption photo. Your eyes then move to look at Loona. She was wearing dark purple shirt that said "Fuck You Dad" and black lounge shorts with skulls on them. Loona lifted her head a bit from her phone, and noticed your eyes staring at her. "What?!" She growled out a response. Shaking your head, you stopped staring and quickly apologized. "Oh nothing, just...I like your pajamas. They're cool." Loona blinked at your response, having seemed to calm down. She gazed at her shirt, then back at you, "Um..thanks".

🐺You smiled back at her, and looked away. No one said a word after that, leaving the room in silence. "Have you heard of them before?" was spoken next to you, causing you to jump. Looking back at Loona, you tilted your head, "Um..who?" Loona pointed to her shirt, "Fuck You Dad. They are a band." "Oh no I haven't. Are they good?" Loona smiled a bit and moved to the side to grab a pair of headphones, while handing one to you.

🐺The both of you listened to the music, bopping your heads to the beat. The atmosphere slowly began to improve between the both of you, as after that you both chatted about other music genres and cool books to check out. The both of you decided to watch a movie, as you went into the kitchen to make some popcorn, while Loona put on a thriller movie to watch. After the movie, you had realize it had gotten late, and decided it was time to head for bed. You decided to sleep on the couch, as you didn't want to make the new relationship with Loona weird again if you slept in the same room. Loona bid you a goodnight and close the door to the room, as you got comfortable on the couch.

🐺You were awakened by the loud growling sounds coming from somewhere. You got up groggily and headed to where the sounds were coming from. They were coming from Loonas room, so you decided to open the door to see if she was okay. Upon entering her room, you saw her laying on her bed, hugging herself as she continued to whimper and growl. "Loona?" you walked closer to where she was, and sat on the bed, reaching out a hand to touch her. She had woken up at that, and shot up from her position on the bed, growling while baring her teeth at you. Her eyes were full of fear, and she had small tears in the corners of them. You jumped a bit at her reaction, but stayed where you were. "Loona, its me." you spoke in a calm tone, to reassure Loona you meant know harm Extending your arms out, you slowly moved towards her, wrapping your arms around her to give her a comforting hug. Loona's slit eyes had widen, signifying that she was calming down. She soon realized you were hugging her, and raised an eyebrow at you, "What are you doing?"

🐺You slowly released her from the hug and moved back a bit, to glance up at her. "I was trying to comfort you. You seemed to have had a bad nightmare." Loona said nothing, and just leaned back, crossing her arms. "It was nothing. Don't worry about it." Heaving a sigh, you uttered an okay and got up from the bed. You were stopped when you felt a hand grab yours, stopping you in your tracks. Turning your head back, you looked a Loona, who was wearing a bit of a shy expression. "Can...uh...can you lay with me for the night?" Widening your eyes at that, you gave her a soft smile back, and slowly moved towards the bed. You laid on the opposite side of where she was staying, and turned your back towards her. You felt her settle behind you, heaving out a long sigh. The room became quiet again, making you believe she had fallen back asleep, but you felt a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Her large tail had moved under the sheets to lay on top of you, it was amazingly soft. "Thanks." was what you heard from behind you. You smiled and moved one of your hands to pet her tail before closing your eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

Stolas🦉

🦉You were the one of the maids/butlers that resided in the Goetia Family mansion. You were newly employed by the family, so there were many things that you had to learn from the other imps, but the job was fairly easy.

🦉The inhabitants of the mansion was the Prince of the Goetia Family, Prince Stolas, and his wife and daughter, Stella and Octavia. Fear had filled you when you first saw Stolas in front of you, when you asked for a job. He was extremely handsome, and quite tall as well. His appearance was very stoic and graceful, yet it still made you feel sheepish when he gazed at you with a cold expression. He may have appeared very distant, but there was more to him that met the eye, as he hired you immediately and offered you adequate pay for your services and your own room in the mansion.

🦉He was a prince, but there were other things about him that you soon discovered during your time at the mansion. He was such a nerd, his love for exotic plants and astrology always made you smile, as you saw how at peace and happy he was when he was indulging in his hobbies. His love for his daughter was extremely sweet, always looking out for her and making sure she was safe and happy.

🦉It soon became clear that he was having an affair with someone else, given how often you caught him giggling about said person on the phone. He often referred to him as "Blitzy" and you happened to see said person or imp, when they were climbing up the balcony to Stolas chambers. You happened to hear the both of them going at it one night when Stella and her daughter were away. Let's just say that whatever was going on in there was best left unseen, but you noticed how much carefree and joyful Stolas was after, so you thought to best leave it alone.

🦉Stolas was called away very late at night for some unknown activity. Whatever he was, he was very excited and dressed to nines. He was gone for quite a while, so you decided it be best to head to bed. Your dreams were disrupted by the sounds of Stella yelling, my satan, she was such an annoying dreadful women. Getting up from your bed, you made your way over to where the sounds were coming from, and headed to one of the balcony's. Hiding away, your eyes spotted Stolas and Stella standing in front of each other. Your ears were able to pick up Stolas saying "𝒲𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒!" Oh my satan! He was finally asking for a divorce!

🦉The rage in Stella's voice was apparent as you heard her insult Stolas one last time, before turning away from him. You hid yourself even more, so she wouldn't be able to spot you. Once the coast was clear, you walked out and made your way over to the balcony to where Stolas still remained. His back was turned towards you, and he was leaning against the railing of the balcony, hands clutching at the feathers at the top of his head. The aching in your heart grew at his sad display. He was suffering so much.

🦉"Your highness?" Stolas jolted from his position, standing up from his regular height, and turning his head all the way back to look at you. "𝒪-𝑜𝒽 𝒴𝒩! 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅?" His eyes were dripping with tears, smearing his lower eyelids with black mascara. "I happened to hear you and Stella arguing." Stolas heaved a sigh, and pointed his head down in shame. "𝑀𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒷 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇" He was in front of you right now, crying, and he was apologizing to you? No no, he had no reason to apologize.

🦉"May you do something for me your highness?" you asked while walking closer to him. Stolas lifted his head and said "𝒴𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓉?" "Can you sit on the ground for me?" Stolas tilted his head at you, confused, but he proceeded to do as you ask. Now that he was level with you, you moved closer to wear he sat, throwing your arms around him in a comforting hug. "𝒪𝒽 𝑀𝓎!" Stolas let out a surprised hoot, raising his arms in shock at your actions. Squeezing a bit tighter, you continued to hug him. "I apologize for doing this, but you looked in need of a hug." Stolas grew less tense and placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back a bit. "𝐼'𝓂 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹-" Stolas stopped when he saw the look on your face, basically telling him you were NOT buying what he was saying.

🦉"Its obvious to me you are not alright. You had just broken off the marriage with your horrid wife and you are staying up here, crying your heart out. What you need right now is a hug and some comfort. I understand if you are not comfortable with it and you can push me away." It all happened so quick, Stolas had wrapped his hands around you, pulling you back into a tight hug. He had lowered his head enough to where it was pushed against your chest. Sounds of sobbing could be heard and you felt your shirt becoming slightly dampen from his tears. You cradled his head against you, rubbing the back of his head feathers gently. The both of you remained in the position, with you holding Stolas as he continued to let all of his emotions out.

🦉His sobs soon came to an end, and he removed his head from your chest, but he kept his arms wrapped around your back. His crimson eyes glanced down at you and he was wearing a soft smile. "𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒴𝒩." Smiling, you moved your hand to wipe the last of the tears on his face. "You are welcome, your highness." "𝒪𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒹𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒, 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈." Your eyes widen a bit a that, before they returned to normal. "Okay." Stolas smiled even more and leaned his forehead against yours, thank you again.

🦉"It might be a bit late to ask this, but would you like some ice cream?" Stolas face stilled for a bit, before he broke into a hooting laugh. "𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽."

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[gffa]

The thing is, I think Jason's issues with Bruce center around how he feels like he doesn't matter to Bruce, how he's not being acknowledged and recognized in the eyes of the man that became his father. And I'm not married to any one interpretation that comes from that, but I can see some a lot of really fun ways to run with it, like. When Jason is resurrected, he's so angry that Bruce refused to cross the line to kill the Joker, because Jason didn't matter enough to him to break that part of Bruce. It doesn't matter that Bruce has reasons for it, that he knows himself well enough that he can't cross that line or he'll keep crossing it, if he justifies one kill, he'll justify them all, there's part of Jason that cries out, "Am I not worth that to you?" In Task Force Z, Jason agrees to work with Bruce to find the Lazarus resin, and the breaking point of their conflict is over Jason feeling like he only matters as a good little soldier, that he's not seen as someone worth respecting and trusted, that he doesn't matter as himself. That Bruce tries to tell him how and where he can fight, that Gotham is his city. When Gotham War happens, Bruce does cross a line, he's so torn apart by Jason's actions versus his own love for Jason that he does something monstrous. It's awful, it's horrible, but maybe there's some fucked up part of Jason that, underneath all the hurt and the anger, thinks, He did this because of me. He crossed his own morals for me. Yeah, it's fucked up and I'm pissed, but look what I made him do. ME. Every single Bat is kind of fucked up in a myriad of ways, their emotional boundaries are just absolutely bonkers, their emotional connections work differently because they've all been through the trauma wringer, so when something fucked up happens, they don't always react to it in normal ways, and especially so when it comes to Bruce. They know it's fucked up, but their whole lives are fucked up, and when you can make Bruce do something so against his morals? Because he's so torn up about you? That's the kind of acknowledgement that really scratches an itch that only really fucked up trauma for everyone in this bar can give you. He can come around on what Bruce did because it means he matters to Bruce, when Bruce trusts him to be the one to take on the fake death plan, when Bruce listens to Jason arguing back, it's the acknowledgement and importance that he's been seeking. It's fucked up, but what isn't fucked up in the Bats' lives? They're all walking trauma bombs ready to go off at any minute, eventually you find ways to get over that and cope however you can. Especially when it means your dad loves you so much that he broke his own rules for you, the rules that seemed to matter so much more than you ever did to him, maybe they're not such an insurmountable distance anymore. Bruce will never kill for any of them, but he can break other rules that drive a dagger into Bruce's very soul. Because of Jason.

[seulrinnie-rinrin]

The Man Next Door

SUMMARY | San is your brother’s friend and your next door neighbor. Despite the constant bickering, you can’t deny the attraction between you both. PAIRING | San/Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex RATING | Mature LENGTH | 4602 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi and hello. Enjoy~

"Can you stop that infernal noise?!" You pounded on your neighbor's door as you heard the sound of power tools once again. The banging went on and on. "Damn it, I've asked you a dozen times to turn down your shi..."

The door burst open, your angry glare landing on a grinning face. "You know, Y/N, I don't say shit about the noises you make when you're working on your remo..."

You cut him off before he could finish. "I want it quiet! And I mean really quiet!"

"Well, damn." He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned against the doorframe, obviously amused. "And here I thought you were going to storm into my place and grab my tools."

You let out a groan and ran a hand through your hair. "You're so annoying San. If I wasn't so pissed off at that loud ass thing over there I would kick your fucking ass."

He burst out laughing. "See? You like me after all. What if I said no?"

"Can we not?" You let out a sigh. "Please, can I have some quiet?"

"Why? You have a guy over or something?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing you didn't get a date often enough for anything like that to be true.

"What's it to you, huh? Jealous?" Your mouth twitched up slightly as you tried to hold back a smile.

"Hell no, I'm just curious, is all." He held up his hands defensively. "So who is he? Your boyfriend?"

"Fuck off, San." You rolled your eyes. "But if you wanted to know, my parents are visiting me and I would appreciate it if you kept the noise to a minimum. Once my parents leave, then we can start our bickering like usual."

"Is that a promise?" His eyes glinted mischievously.

"Fine."

He gave you one last leer before turning around and closing the door behind him. You made your way back to your condo next door, your parents curiously giving you looks from the living room where they sat watching TV.

"Is everything alright with your neighbors?" Your mom inquired as she took a sip of her tea.

"Sorry about that. San is remodeling his place right now." You replied, your cheeks growing hot as your dad snorted softly.

"How romantic." Your mother commented wryly.

"Mom, please." You rolled your eyes and waved your hands at them. "He's like the most irritating person ever and-"

"You're still arguing with him, Y/N?" Your brother walked out of the bathroom. Seonghwa gave you a strange look before taking a seat next to your mom.

"Seonghwa, I swear I am going to kill that man." You mumbled angrily as you rubbed the bridge of your nose. "Of all people, how did your friend end up being my neighbor?"

"It's destiny." Your brother replied cheerfully, causing both of your parents to laugh. "It was meant to be. You two should go out together. There's nothing wrong with trying."

"Mom! Tell Seonghwa to stop it." You glared at your mother.

She giggled as she continued talking to Seonghwa. "Yes, love. Your sister and San should get together. How many times has he looked at her?"

"A lot." Seonghwa smiled as he watched your face grow redder.

You groaned as you got out of your chair and headed towards the kitchen. "I hate my life sometimes."

"Oh come on. If you hate the thought of going out with San, then why don't you just find an actual boyfriend?" Seonghwa pulled you back by the waistband of your pants. Your mouth fell open as your gaze landed on your brother. He gave you a smirk as he started pulling you back towards the couch. "I think Yeosang is single..."

You turned to your parents. "Mom, Dad. Please tell your precious son to stop hooking me up with his friends. It's getting old and I swear I will hit him if he tries this again."

Your parents chuckled as they shook their heads at you. They knew that your brother was just doing it because he loved you. He didn't care if you ended up liking them or not. All he cared about was that you found someone special to spend time with and make memories with.

They weren't stupid though. After all, you hadn't dated anyone seriously since breaking up with your first serious boyfriend. If he wanted you to settle down soon, then it only made sense that he'd try to set you up with a good looking guy with good family values. One that wouldn't cheat on you or be too needy. That's what your brother had always told you.

San.

Despite him irritating you to no end, he was a good guy. A kind-hearted person that would never intentionally hurt another person. You knew that because even when he was teasing you mercilessly, you couldn't help but see the soft side of him. It was impossible not to, especially when he was being sweet. And sure, you couldn't deny being insanely attracted to him either. His voice, those ridiculously perfect lips, his gorgeous eyes... Everything about him screamed sexy, and the way he treated you when you were alone with him made you weak in the knees.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Seonghwa placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah. Just give me a second." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Opening your eyes again, you looked up at your brother. "Do you think it's a bad idea to ask him out?"

"Oh? Do you perhaps like San?" He raised an eyebrow, and then started to laugh as he saw the look of horror cross your face. "Kidding, Y/N! Of course you do. I don't think he'll mind the fact that you've been crushing on him since high school."

"I have not been crushing on him since high school!" You exclaimed defensively.

"Uh huh. Tell yourself that. Because I'm pretty sure he noticed." Seonghwa chuckled. "Do you have dreams about him too?"

"Stop it." You groaned.

"No really. I won't stop until you admit it." Seonghwa smirked.

"I'm going to punch you in the face when Mom and Dad aren't around." You grumbled, glaring at your brother.

"So...?" He grinned mischievously. "What are you going to do?"

You groaned as you got out of the couch. "Mom, Dad. Don't stop me when I throttle my own brother. Seriously."

They laughed as you stalked towards the door. Grabbing your phone off the counter, you slammed the door behind you and headed towards San's place next door. San was outside washing his car when you walked out. His head shot up when he saw you standing there, and you immediately felt your face heat up. God, it was hard not to blush every time he caught your eye. As much as you hated admitting it, San was incredibly attractive. But even more than his appearance, it was his personality that got you. His humor, his kindness, and the way he teased you constantly...

God, you wished you were less awkward around him. You spent so much time daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him and spend the night in bed with him, that it had become difficult to function normally around him, hence the bickering with him over the years.

"You okay there, Y/N?" He spoke softly as he came closer to you.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. "It's nothing. Just Seonghwa being annoying as always."

"Ah, Seonghwa." San let out a laugh. "Trying to matchmake yet again?"

"Shut up." You muttered under your breath.

His smile grew wider as he moved in front of you. "Who was it this time? Jongho? Mingi?"

You shook your head. "Yeosang."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Really, really." You sighed. "I told Seonghwa that I'll beat him up the next time he tries to butt into my love life. So that means I owe him a beating."

San cocked his head to the side as he studied you. "Hmm... A chance to hit Seonghwa for you. That does sound fun."

"Feel free to beat him up. He is your friend after all." You shrugged and shook your head. "Anyway, I came here for something else. Seonghwa won't leave me alone unless I ask you this...Do you...Uhm...Think it's a bad idea to ask you out?"

His smile grew bigger as he pulled you close to him. "Oh my god, I can't believe I have to hear you asking me this question already. We've been friends for years, what makes you think it's a bad idea?"

You frowned and bit your lip. "I just feel like it might cause problems between us... Ugh." You huffed and looked away from him. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."

"It's fine. Really." He placed a gentle finger under your chin and gently tilted your head upwards. "It's perfectly normal to want to ask a friend out. And I know you like to look at me when you think no one's around. Even if you pretend you don't, I know you do."

"I swear one of these days I'm going to beat you up instead of Seonghwa." You mumbled as you stared into his eyes.

He let out a laugh. "Are you going to start fighting everyone you meet now? It's cute. Kinda."

You blushed slightly and quickly looked away. "Stop flirting with me. You're making me lose focus."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He winked at you before releasing your chin and stepping away.

You crossed your arms and glared at him. "So... Will you go out with me?"

"Maybe." He smiled cheekily.

Your jaw dropped and you widen your eyes. Was that a yes? "W-what?!"

"Shh. Be patient." He winked at you. "Just wait for my answer."

"But-"

"One. More. Minute." He smiled. "And then you can say whatever you want."

"Seriously, you guys need to just make out already." An annoyed voice called from inside the house. "You two drive me crazy sometimes."

"Oh, dear God." You mumbled under your breath. "Seonghwa is coming out now."

"Hello, loverboy." Seonghwa laughed as he walked out of your condo. He patted San on the back. "I take it that my crazy, violent sister asked you out?"

"Yeah. She kinda did." San chuckled, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"Well, I suppose it's better late than never." Seonghwa smirked. "Still though, it's about time you guys went out."

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. Seonghwa wasn't exactly wrong. In fact, he was right. You had gone out with your friends and tried dating other people without success. But honestly, there was something missing in those relationships. Something that you felt only with San. Sure, he was a huge flirt, and he was usually joking around whenever he saw you. But it was more than that. You could always tell how genuinely happy he was to see you. How excited he was when he saw you smile. And his caring nature... He put you first in everything. Always putting you before himself. He always wanted to make sure you were safe and taken care of, before thinking of his own needs.

The fact that he was super hot didn't hurt either.

You squeezed San's fingers tightly, wanting to convey to him how much you cared about him. You also wanted to show him how happy you were that he agreed to go out with you. For some reason, you felt nervous that he might say no, despite the fact that you both knew you wanted each other. You knew he liked you. Hell, you liked him too. He was the only person who seemed to understand you, who knew how to push your buttons and get under your skin.

"Y/N, why are you squeezing my hand so tight?" San laughed.

"I'm not." You mumbled, slowly letting go of his hand.

Seonghwa burst out laughing. "Sure you are."

"Ha ha." You smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with this very handsome man." You turned to San and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm going to show you how to properly kiss later." San laughed, his arms snaking around your waist.

You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Can't wait."

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were relaxing on the couch while watching a movie with San. You had to admit that you felt a bit nervous being wrapped in his arms, but you couldn't deny the butterflies flying around in your stomach every time he touched you.

"Are you feeling alright?" San asked you softly. You hummed in response and looked away. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Do you really want to know?" You rolled your eyes playfully. "It's like I've lost my mind or something."

"Losing your mind doesn't mean that you've lost your ability to speak." He lightly poked you in the nose.

"And yet you still manage to insult me, Choi San." You snorted. "Fine. I'm just freaking out."

"Why?" He asked, concerned.

"Because..." You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "There are so many things I'd like to do with you...Things I've fantasized about doing since high school."

"Oh? What kind of things?" He smirked.

You bit your lip nervously. "Like...kissing you senseless. And sleeping in your arms all night. And waking up next to you... You get the picture."

He leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. "Okay, okay. I'll make all of those things come true."

Your heart started racing as he pulled back and held your gaze. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he quickly moved away, giving you a smile instead. You couldn't help but frown a bit. Ever since you agreed to go with San, he had yet to really kiss you and you weren't sure why. Sure you, kissed. A peck here and there but it wasn't nearly enough. You longed for the moment when he finally did kiss you, fully and passionately. But so far, he had refrained from even trying. Maybe you were expecting too much. Perhaps you should just go with the flow. Let things happen naturally.

Right?

Later that night, you found yourself in bed, staring at the ceiling.

This is stupid. I should stop thinking about him and just sleep.

You scolded yourself. You've been doing it for years and nothing bad happened, so what's stopping you now?

Sleep. You need to sleep.

Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the fact that San's face kept flashing before your eyes. You attempted to block out the memory of his soft lips touching yours, your hands running through his silky hair and the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

Focus. Sleep.

Nope.

You sat up in bed and grabbed your phone from your nightstand.

If I can't fall asleep, I may as well text him and try to talk to him. At least it will occupy my mind for a while. Right?

It only took you a couple of minutes to compose a message to San. You closed your phone and tossed it onto the bed next to you. Not two minutes later, your phone vibrated and you jumped at the unexpected sound. Picking up your phone, you read San's reply.

San: What did you want to talk about? Can't sleep? I'll hold your hand until you doze off.

A goofy grin spread across your face as you read his reply. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name and it was difficult to suppress the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Before you realized it, you were typing another message to him:

You: Hard to sleep when all I could think about is kissing you senseless. Tried to count sheep. Didn't work.

Minutes passed and you got a notification telling you that San replied. You hurriedly unlocked your phone and opened his message.

San: What else were you thinking about? Want to share them with me?

You reread his message and a wide smile appeared on your face. It only took you seconds to type it out.

You: Weird thoughts of you.

San's reply came almost instantly. Your cheeks flushed red as you stared at the screen.

San: What kind of thoughts? Sexy ones?

Before you knew it, you typed out another message.

You: Want to know what they were about?

San immediately replied. His response made you blush again. Your breathing picked up as you stared at your phone, waiting for his response.

San: Give me details. Now.

Slowly moving your thumbs, you typed out your reply.

You: Thoughts of your fingers running down my body. Fingers that would eventually find their way inside me.

A few minutes passed before you received a reply. You peeked at your phone anxiously, wondering if he was done responding. When the message alert popped up, you couldn't hide your surprise.

San: And in these thoughts of yours, did you like my fingers? Because I would love to use them...All over you.

Wow. Just wow. That sent chills down your spine and it took everything you had to remain focused on the topic at hand. Thinking about how good his fingers felt made you imagine how it would feel to be underneath him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as he pinned you down. Oh god, you couldn't stop thinking about it. In fact, the thought alone sent shivers down your spine. You barely noticed when San responded again.

San: Yes. You liked them. More than you ever imagined possible. I'd like to make those thoughts become reality. One day. Soon. Please?

You bit your lip, before responding.

You: Kiss me first and then I'll let you do whatever you want.

San replied a minute later.

San: Whatever I want?

And you proceeded to write the next part.

You: Whatever you want. From the way you touch me to the way you taste me.

Several moments passed and San's reply came through. Your eyes widened as you read his words.

San: Why don't we make our fantasies come true? Tonight. Come over here. Now.

Letting out a small laugh, you pushed yourself up and headed towards his place. It took you but seconds to reach his condo, but you didn't waste any time once you arrived. You knocked on the door loudly, anxious to see him. A moment later, he opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. Without saying a word, you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your body firmly against his. He returned the hug fiercely and placed his hands gently on your hips, deepening the kiss.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You pulled away and looked into his eyes. The intense look in his eyes was making you feel slightly dizzy and nervous.

"Is this okay?" You whispered softly.

He brushed your lips with a thumb. "Never knew that you wanted me this bad."

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I do. I've wanted you forever."

His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you again. You moaned in pleasure as he deepened the kiss. After several minutes, he pulled away from you and smiled. "Come in."

With one last lingering kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and entered his home. After closing the door and taking your shoes off, San pushed you gently against the wall, holding you firmly by the hips. His mouth hovered above yours as he watched you, trying to take in every little detail. Finally, he lowered his head and planted another soft kiss on your lips.

The kiss was brief, but it left you panting. You brought your hands up and pressed them against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. Slowly moving your hands up his back and around his neck, you pulled him closer to you.

"I want to do a lot more than just kiss tonight, Y/N." San said huskily.

"Yes." You whispered back. "I want to do more than just kiss too."

San's lips left yours and trailed down your jawline, leaving wet kisses along the way. Finally, he stopped at the base of your throat and slowly nipped your skin, causing you to moan softly. Leaning in, he kissed the spot where he bit you and you whimpered. "Don't make me wait anymore, Y/N."

You reached up and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in place as he continued to tease you. Slowly licking up your neck, he lingered on your pulse point and teased you with feather light kisses. "San... Please..."

As if reading your mind, he gripped your chin tightly and lifted your head. His eyes met yours and you saw desire blazing behind them. Gently brushing his lips against yours, he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and began undressing you as soon as he set you down on the bed. Your shirt flew across the room and landed somewhere on the floor, followed by your shorts, bra and panties. His lips pressed against your skin, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from you. You squirmed under his touch, desperately wanting more.

Suddenly, San pulled away and his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he revealed his bare chest. With one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you gazed at his muscular torso. You reached out and caressed his abs lightly, enjoying the soft feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. You pulled at the waistband of his sweats and soon had them off of him, tossing them to the side.

You didn't have to ask twice; San immediately rolled over on top of you and pressed his lips against yours. He pinned your wrists above your head, covering your body with his own as he kissed you passionately. Moans escaped from your lips as his tongue slid past your lips, plunging into your mouth. After a few moments, he pulled away and stared at you with hooded eyes.

"Do you want me, Y/N?"

"Yes." You whispered softly.

"Tell me how badly you want me."

"Very badly."

San leaned forward and sucked on your bottom lip, gently biting it before letting it go. "Good girl." He said, kissing you again.

Again, his lips left yours and moved down your jawline, leaving wet kisses on the way. He trailed his kisses lower, stopping at the hollow of your throat. His hot breath fanned across your skin as he licked your skin. His fingers suddenly clasped your breasts, squeezing them roughly. Your nipples hardened under his touch and a low moan escaped your lips. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hands, craving more.

San's hands dropped from your breasts and trailed down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. One hand trailed slowly down your thigh and pressed against your pussy, making you gasp. "You're wet, Y/N." He said in a husky voice. "You're so wet for me."

Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nodded your head.

"Touch yourself." He commanded. Sitting up, you placed your palms on your thighs and used them to spread your legs wider. You glanced up at San and found him staring at you with lust filled eyes. "Touch yourself, baby."

With shaky hands, you tentatively touched yourself, moaning softly as you ran your fingers along your clit. You gasped at the sudden rush of pleasure that coursed through your body as you began to finger yourself. The pleasurable tingling quickly turned into a throbbing ache between your legs. When you felt the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, you slipped two fingers inside yourself, stretching your pussy wider.

"Fuck, baby." San let out a moan as he watched you pleasure yourself. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"So fucking close." You managed to say. "Please, San... I need you inside me."

"I'm not gonna make you wait much longer." San groaned. His gaze softened as he gave you a slow smile. "But for now... Let me watch you finish yourself off."

Normally when you touched yourself, it never felt like this. But the combination of watching San's eyes glaze over with desire and having him watch you touch yourself, intensified the pleasure tenfold. The pulsating ache became even stronger and before long, you felt yourself begin to tense up.

"San...I can't hold back..." You moaned, pulling your hand away from your wet pussy. You felt a burst of heat rush through your body as your orgasm ripped through your body, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. The force of your climax caused your knees to buckle and San instantly rolled over, supporting you with his arms. His gaze fell upon your flushed face, a content grin plastered on his face.

"That was beautiful, baby." San said, kissing your forehead. "God, I've been waiting all night to hear you call out my name."

"San, I need you now." You pleaded softly. "Please."

"Yeah, baby." He breathed heavily. "I know."

In an instant, he sunk into you, filling you completely. As soon as he did, your eyes fluttered closed and you held onto him tightly. The overwhelming sensation of him finally being inside you sent tremors of ecstasy coursing through your body. You cried out as he slowly thrust himself into you, setting a steady pace. Each movement was a reminder of how perfect this man was for you and how lucky you were to have him.

"Fuck, San..." You let out a moan.

He gently stroked your hair as you clung to him, murmuring loving words in your ear. Together, you rode the waves of pleasure as your bodies intertwined. Your hands grasped onto his back, relishing in the gentle contact of his skin. Every touch made your heart race faster and soon you were reaching the peak again. You moaned his name as your orgasm crashed over you, causing you to squeeze him tighter. As you neared your release, you felt San begin to shudder beneath you. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked on yours.

Slowly, he buried his face into your neck and let out a loud groan. "Y/N... Fuck... Baby... I'm gonna cum."

You tighten your grip around him, urging him on as he poured everything he had into you. For a moment, nothing else existed but you and him as your bodies clung together, relishing in the blissful afterglow. After several moments, you released his back and lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath. As your breathing slowed, you felt San's weight shift slightly, rolling over onto his side. With a smile on your face, you turned your head and nestled into his warm embrace. He pulled you closer to him and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

After several moments, he spoke softly in your ear. "Did all your thoughts and fantasies come true, Y/N?"

You laughed quietly. "Every single one."

He grinned and kissed your cheek. "Mine too."

[lowkeychenle]

the hardest part [ZCL] (M)

Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Genre: (Hurt/Comfort) Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)

Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)

Word Count: 16,965

Taglist: @amyjipark @sofix-hc7 @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)

A/N: thank you for 900 followers! :)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When you got the call, your life fell apart before your eyes. You didn’t believe it. Not at first, anyway, considering things like this don’t happen to people you know. They happen to people you’ve never met.

Tragedies strike everyone. Not only are you not exempt, but nothing will ever shake you more, you’re certain.

Learning of your childhood best friend’s death is not something you expect to hear at your age. It’s always sudden, tragically, unfortunately. As if any death is anything but those words.

Everything leading up to the funeral—from the phone call to the week it took you to get on the plane—felt like a fever dream. One you’d wake up from and everything would be normal again.

You’re too young. He’s too young.

Was.

He was too young.

Your throat tightens as you close your eyes, resting your head against the steering wheel of your rental car. The funeral awaits you inside, where you’ll say the goodbye he’ll never actually hear.

The entire week, you’d been looking through old pictures and videos, crying at the sound of his voice when you realized how long it’d been since you truly heard him.

You obviously had yet to accept what happened. You’re half-sure that the second you walk in, everyone will be in there as if they’ve all played an elaborate prank on you. How cruel of them to set all of that up in a funeral home. Was he in there right now, waiting for you to walk in with tears in your eyes so he could make fun of you?

You’d cry harder, punch his shoulder, yell at him for playing such a cruel joke on you.

But it’s not a joke.

You haven’t received a text in over a month—well past your monthly check-in time. That thought alone makes you want to scream. Monthly check-ins? You moved away from your friends years ago for college and a ghost of a dream. Now, the only ghost left is his, and you have no idea how to explain your absence.

You thought you had more time.

Maybe that everybody gets older—but that’s not true. He won’t.

A cold chill runs down your spine. You look up at the sky, wanting to curse it for the beautiful blue color when the shade inside your heart is so fucking painful. Gathering yourself and wiping away the stray tear, you brush your dress off and get out of your car. The lot is packed, considering how popular Jay is.

Was.

It’s not real for you yet. Even as you walk in through the doors, the miserable click of your heels on the concrete doing little to soothe the emotions running deep in your veins. The first thing you see when you walk in is a collage of pictures of him—and the one that catches your eye immediately is one of the biggest ones, portraying you, Jay, and Chenle from a few summers back. The three of you are beaming at each other, smiles too wide to not be painful.

A lump forms in your throat. You hadn’t even thought about Chenle. Not really. The three of you had been best friends growing up. Your parents all knew each other, and so you’d been grandfathered into two friendships. In your defense, nothing had been on your mind except for Jay. Not his family, not yours, not Chenle.

Jaw quivering, you trace your fingers over the two men in the picture. God, Chenle must be a fucking wreck right now. Your first goal was to find him.

It’s not like you weren’t friends with them anymore. You were busy, they were busy, and you had a friendship with both of them that made it easy to remain the same when together even if you spent months and months apart. You hadn’t seen either of them in person in over a year.

The doors are open, and you clench your fists together. You freeze just before the doorway. The second you walk in, all of this becomes real. Jay is dead, and you’ve failed to keep up with him and everyone else from your hometown. You’ve become someone else, and in the process, you forgot your roots.

You’ll never remember them again. Not when they’ve been cut at the source.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice sounds behind you, and you whirl around.

The tears you’d been holding back fall before you can stop them. You slap a hand over your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, Chenle’s closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping his arms around you.

“God, it’s been so fucking long,” he murmurs, tightening his grip.

You can’t talk yet. Guilt sets in regardless, because you hadn’t so much as messaged him when you heard about all of this. His palm rests on the back of your head, and he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stand there, and you allow him to comfort you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you groan and wipe at your eyes. “This is all just…are you…how are you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” he admits. “Better now that you’re here, honestly. I went outside to take a break from everything and I saw you walk in. You have no idea how good it is to have you back here.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been gone for so long.” You glance up at the ceiling.

“Life happens,” Chenle says softly. He puts his hand on the small of your back. “If you’re ready, I’ll go in with you.”

“Thank you.” You take a deep breath.

Chenle has never been an emotional man. Even since you were children, you rarely even saw him tear up. Hopes of all of this being a prank dissipates quickly when you see the water gathered in his eyes as the two of you walk in.

The air inside is undeniably stuffy, bone-chilling, even. Silence is amplified by how you hear your own heart pounding in your ears. The carpeted floor creaks beneath your feet, and as soon as people recognize you, eyes are on you and Chenle. Nobody says anything.

The casket is on a stage of sorts. The left side is open, and you can’t see inside it from where you’re standing, but your feet freeze to the ground directly below you before you realize what’s happening. A flash of worry crosses over Chenle’s features as he steps in front of you to cover the view.

“Just breathe,” he whispers, hands on your shoulders. “It’s hard. I know. Trust me, do I fucking know, but it’s not about us and our feelings right now. It’s about Jay. You’ll get through this for Jay.”

“He’s in there.” You gulp. “It’s all real, and he’s…”

Your friend nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s real.”

Your throat constricts again, and you glance around. His family—his parents and younger brother—are in the front of the room, sitting down together. Much to your surprise, they’re not all sobbing, but the redness to his mother’s cheeks tells you she may have just shed too many tears to keep going.

“This is the last time you’ll ever see him,” Chenle says quietly. “You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. They put him in that stupid band shirt he never wanted to throw away.”

Your heart pangs, and warmth and fondness takes over. “Well, good thing he never did, huh?”

“Exactly.” Chenle chuckles. “I’ll go with you.”

Once you nod, he resumes his spot next to you and guides you up to your best friend to say goodbye. You don’t stay there long. After you see him, you’re sure you’ve been changed forever. It’s odd how serene and peaceful he looks. How nothing about him has really changed when everything about you and your life now has.

You speak briefly with his family, who are all thankful you came across the country for this—as if you’d ever miss it. You just wish you’d had that need to go home when death wasn’t involved. Yours, Jay’s, and Chenle’s parents stay at the funeral after you and Chenle leave. The two of you mutually agreed Jay would punch you both if he knew you were held up because of him.

You go to a cafe together, and despite you having zero appetite, Chenle insists you get something to eat. Grasping your warm coffee cup in both hands, you stare down at the steam while your friend is up at the counter waiting for everything else. You look out the window, watching the cars zoom past.

“It’s a little weird having you back here,” Chenle mentions as he sits down across from you.

“Well.” You sip your coffee. “It wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“How long are you here for?”

“I took extended leave,” you tell him. “I’ll be here for a few months.”

He purses his lips and nods. “This town isn’t so great without you, you know. Jay and I used to talk about it all the time.”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitches and you stare at the steam from your cup. “I’ve been so…far away this whole time, and now it’s too late to fix it all.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to fix,” he interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re out there making a life for yourself. We’ve never been anything but fucking proud of you, dude. You had the courage to get out. Neither of us ever could’ve attempted that.”

“Did he even get the chance?” You let out a pained laugh and set your coffee on the table.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. He loved you, okay? Our friendship has always been easy. You don’t need to talk to people or see them every day to stay friends.” Chenle reaches across the table and grabs your hand.

Your shoulders slump. “God, you’re going through this at the same time I am and I’m just…making it about me. What’s going on with you?”

“Everyone grieves differently.” He pauses to think. “I’m…as okay as I can be, you know? But to be completely honest, I’m not sure how I am. Or what I’m gonna do. There’s not much I can do.”

“I still can’t believe it. He’s just…gone. How the hell do we keep going? It’ll never be the same.”

“You’re right,” Chenle agrees. “It’ll suck. It already does. But we’ll get through this together. I’m here for you.”

You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. “And I’m here for you, of course. I’m gonna be better about staying in touch and visiting.”

“Where are you staying?” he asks.

“Well, my parents turned my room into a home gym, so I got a hotel for now.” You chuckle. “They really thought I was never coming back.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His eyes widen. “You’re gonna stay in a hotel for a few months? Just come stay with me.”

“I didn’t want to impose on anyone.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “C’mon, you’re not imposing and you know it. Plus, you haven’t seen the new house yet, so you may as well.”

“That’s right.” You gasp and shoot straight up. “You fucking bought a house.”

He grins. “Yeah, I did. And there’s plenty of space for you there. Plus, it’ll be better for both of us if we’re not alone right now.”

“You’re gonna make me play board games.”

“Obviously.” He scrunches up his nose. “You would have to even if you were staying in the hotel.”

Familiarity finally sets in, and the awkward air between you and Chenle has officially evaporated completely. He’s still your best friend, and the weirdness was in your own head. The two of you spend a bit of time catching up at the cafe—at times, you even find yourself laughing.

You missed your hometown. The friends you had when you were growing up. What a shame you’re missing one of the most pivotal people in your entire life. Your younger years were shaped and reformed by your friendship with Jay and Chenle.

When some girl bullied you in middle school, the boys were the first people to come to your defense. They’d walk you to and from class, and Chenle even called that girl out. In high school, when you got your first boyfriend, Jay and Chenle grilled him thoroughly. They were your family, and you were theirs.

One of the only times you’d seen Chenle cry was when he and Jay dropped you off at the airport when you were leaving for college. You hugged both of them so tightly, and you promised to visit often. They said they’d come see you, and that you’d never go too long without them.

Naive promises turn into friendships where you love each other, but you rarely see or hear from the other. Every time you did see them, it truly felt like no time had passed.

You and Chenle get into your car, and he directs you to his house. He tells you a little about it on the way—it’s not too big, two bedrooms, one bathroom, but the kitchen is really nice. He likes to cook, so, of course, that was a deciding factor when he was looking.

Your bags are still in the back, so he helps you grab them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and grabs the larger of your two bags. Everything about your hometown feels foreign to you as you follow him inside. He flicks the lights on, and the first thing you notice is that same picture of you, Jay, and Chenle that you’d seen at the funeral home.

It’s framed in the center of the wall, and as soon as you see it, you exhale. Chenle stops mid-sentence, walking up to stand next to you.

“That’s my favorite picture of us.” He tilts his head. “He made fun of me for putting that up.”

“He’s always been so weird about mushy gushy friendship feelings.” You purse your lips. “Despite being the sappiest fucking guy I know.”

“He’d be so pissed at all of us for being sad.” Chenle chuckles. “He’d kill me if I let you stay in a hotel, too.”

“The last time I talked to him, he’d just broken up with that girl. What was her name?”

“I don’t even remember. She was weird, though. Like, he barely talked to you and she was all threatened I guess. You and Jay? You two would end up putting each other in headlocks.” He snorts and runs his fingers through his hair.

“We have put each other in headlocks,” you remind him, nudging his shoulder. “And I vaguely remember kicking his ass.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d consider that kicking his ass.”

“This…This feeling will go away eventually, right?” For some reason, you can’t lift your voice higher than a whisper as you force the words out.

“Which one? The gaping hole or the soul-crushing anxiety?” He throws his arm over your shoulders.

“Both.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “I’ve heard from many that you kinda just…learn how to live with it.”

“Even though he can’t.”

“Even though he can’t,” Chenle repeats. “Guess the hardest part of all of this is that he won’t grow up with us, huh?”

You inhale sharply and cover your mouth. “Damn it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ve been a damn roller coaster this whole week. You don’t have to be scared to feel around me. You know that.”

“It feels so fucking selfish,” you breathe out. “I haven’t seen him in…months, so do I even really have the right to be this sad?”

“Are you kidding me?” Chenle scoffs.

“Would he even want me here right now?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Your friend gapes at you. “He never stopped talking about the next time you’d be in town. Neither of us have ever even had a negative thought about you, dude. You should know that. There was never a time where he didn’t want you here.”

“I guess I just thought we’d have more time,” you say.

“The world waits for no one.”

When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.

You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.

You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.

“You’re still up?”

“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”

You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”

“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”

“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”

“Family business money.”

“You work. You earned it.”

“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”

“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.

“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.

He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”

Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”

“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”

“It was for Jay.”

“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.

“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”

“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”

You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.

“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.

“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.

Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.

His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.

The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.

His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.

Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.

You wake in the morning to sunlight on your face and Chenle wiggling away from you. The brightness burns your eyes, and you curse under your breath. Chenle bites back a laugh.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks. “I was about to go make some coffee for us.”

You shake your head and turn onto your back. “No, the sun violated me. Sorry for falling asleep in here. I thought I’d be able to catch myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. “You still like your coffee the same way?”

You nod. “Thanks, Lele.”

“Of course.” He pats the door frame and heads to the kitchen. The creaks in the floorboards from his steps get further and further, and you cover your face with your hands to block out the sun.

You smell the coffee as it brews, a sigh escaping your lips. His bed is the most comfortable thing you’ve slept on in a while, and you can’t seem to force yourself to get up. You and Chenle had spent the night together many times before, pretty much throughout your entire lives. Jay, too, of course, considering how inseparable the three of you had been growing up.

“Alright, lazy ass,” Chenle calls out. “Coffee’s ready. Time to face the world.”

“Asshole,” you shout back.

“That’s what they call me.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. Swinging the covers off of you, you follow him into the kitchen.

“The fuck is your mattress made of?” you ask as you take the cup he hands you. “Clouds?”

“It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” He sips his coffee and cringes from the heat.

“The steam is like, a dead giveaway that it’s too hot to drink, you know.”

“I take back what I said, go back to sleep.” He grins. “Getting a decent night’s sleep has brought your sass back.”

“You know you love my sass,” you bite back.

He holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Whatever.”

“What’s the plan for today?” you ask, holding your cup close so it warms you up.

“No clue,” he says. “My parents gave me a few weeks off to, I don’t know, adjust or whatever. Even though I could probably use the distraction.”

“Comedy movie didn’t do it for you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “A two hour movie can only do so much.”

“We should do something for him,” you suggest, tilting your head as you try to think. “Like, to honor him.”

“What could we do?”

“Sky’s the limit.” You shrug. “I feel like I should.”

“If you do, it needs to be actually for him. Not to compensate for guilt. Guilt you shouldn’t even be feeling, by the way.” His eyes on you suddenly becomes too much. You avert your gaze. He’s always been able to read you like a book.

“It’s really weird,” you say. “Right now, I don’t feel…anything. But I really thought I’d be in a constant state of sad. That makes me feel guilty, too.”

“I get that. It’s the way things work, though. At the end of the day, we’re still alive. We shouldn’t stop just because he did.” Chenle looks past you to the picture on the wall.

You follow suit, letting the events from yesterday flood back to you.

“Lele.” You wait for him to look at you. “Thank you. For everything. And for not letting me blame myself. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be alone and sad and, quite honestly, wondering where I—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You glare at him.

He smiles. “You get it.”

You and Chenle spend some time with your parents. They’re quick to update you on everything everyone in the town has been doing, and you and Chenle exchange ‘when-will-this-be-over’ glances frequently. 

Chenle offers to help your dad cook, leaving you and your mother in the living room. She brings out an old photo album, and the two of you take a trip down memory lane. After flipping through a few pages, she gasps and points at a picture of you and Chenle next to each other at a bonfire. You’re holding the graham crackers, awaiting the marshmallow he’s toasting over the flames.

“You guys were so young.” She lets out a long sigh.

“Mom, that was like, six years ago.” You laugh. “We weren’t that young.”

She trails down the page, and the next one is almost the same, but Jay’s arms are around you and Chenle, and he beams straight into the camera. You smile at the sight, remembering how you swatted at his wrist the second after the photo was taken.

“You know, we all thought you and Jay would get married one day,” she says absent-mindedly.

“What?” you ask incredulously. “Seriously? Come on, you know we were never like that.”

“You kids don’t see it from the outside. I’ve never seen you act so comfortable with anyone. Chenle, too, obviously. I can’t explain it. It was different with you and Jay.”

“I promise you, he’s only ever been my best friend. Not even a smidge of another thought. Don’t speak ill of the dead like that—”

“(Y/N),” your mother scolds you, smacking your arm.

“No need to beat around the bush.” You shrug and close the album.

“Hey, do you—” Chenle’s cut off by your mother.

“If you actually visited as much as you said you would, maybe things would’ve happened for the two of you.”

She doesn’t mean it the way you take it, at least you don’t think she does, but it’s a stray bullet to the heart anyway. Your jaw drops, and it only takes one glance from Chenle for him to understand. He reaches into his pocket and hands you his keys.

“Go get in the car.”

“Chenle, it’s not—”

“Go. I’ll be out in a second.”

Your insides twist and turn, and despite the way your throat closes in on itself, you nod and practically bolt out of the house. The first tear drops as you climb into the passenger seat. You close your eyes and drop your head into your hands. How did life turn out this way?

It’s true that you and Jay had never had any sort of feelings for each other, but the insinuation that he should’ve been more confuses you more than anything. If he should’ve been, you lost that chance before you even knew it existed. But it doesn’t matter, does it?

You never had feelings for him. Never. But for some reason, it suddenly feels like you have to.

Now, a different type of guilt sinks in.

You’re shaking by the time Chenle gets in the car, but he doesn’t say anything before he drives away. Stress boils off of him, and you’re almost scared to glance over at him. Luckily, the ride to his house is short thanks to your small hometown, and as soon as you’re out of the car and inside, he lets out a loud sigh.

You intend to quietly and quickly head into your own room, where you’ll cry until you fall asleep or you need more water before you can shed a single additional tear.

“Don’t even think about it,” Chenle says, grabbing onto your wrist. “Talk to me.”

You stumble into his chest and hold onto his T-shirt like your life depends on it. He cradles the back of your head and sighs, thumb stroking your scalp.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he whispers. “They don’t understand.”

“What if she was right?” you choke out.

He leans away from you to look at your face. “Did you? Ever have feelings for him?”

“No, but what if—”

“There’s no use thinking about things like that.” Chenle’s brows furrow as he scans over your face.

“And now I’ll never know if he ever thought like that, and it’s my fault—it’s not what I wanted, because you know I’d rather fist fight him than anything else, but God, what if he—”

“(Y/N).” His palms reach up to cup your cheeks, making you look straight at him as he guides you to breathe. “I can very confidently say that Jay didn't have any sort of romantic feelings for you at any point, okay? Just take a deep breath.”

“I look like an idiot, don’t I?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You look like someone who really cares for someone they just lost. These feelings are normal, dude.”

“I don’t think you were ever worried about Jay potentially having feelings for you,” you mumble.

“He was very much into women, so definitely never a worry on my part.” Chenle snorts and pulls you back into a hug. “She shouldn’t have said something like that to you. You’re probably hungry, too. I’ll order us some pizza.”

“Let me pay for it,” you say, reaching into your purse for your card.

“Next time.” He nudges you before walking into the kitchen.

You sigh and follow him, quickly wiping the wetness from your cheeks. He’s typing away on his phone screen, resting his elbows on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair and sends a quick smile your way.

Without Jay around, things with Chenle felt off at first. Everything changed for all of the people you knew in the blink of an eye, and now, you’re left with one of two of your best friends while the other is galavanting up in the sky.

Things would never be the same for you, but you still have Chenle. And at the end of the day, he’s one of the only people in the entire world that have ever understood you. You don’t even need to say a word for him to get a read on you.

“Pizza’s ordered.” He drops his phone onto the granite. “I need a drink. Do you want something? I only have beer and liquor.”

“Beer’s fine,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t drink too much anyway.”

You’re halfway through the can when the pizza arrives. Chenle grabs you a piece, and you pause for a moment. This whole time, he’s been doing things for you—and it’s not just now either. It’s been like this for your entire life. Until the time you moved across the country on your own, you’d barely ever even opened a door for yourself.

You down the rest of your drink, and Chenle blinks at you rapidly.

“Are you good?” He chuckles.

“Just thinking of how good I had it here.” You shrug. “When I lived here, and I got to hang out with you and Jay all the time. I never felt lonely or sad or anything like that. Always happy with you guys.”

His face softens. “I miss those days.”

“Me too.” Right when you open your mouth to continue, Chenle stops you.

“Don’t.” He points at you. “We were the ones who told you to go in the first place.”

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence, where you steal a couple glances at your long time friend. Had you come home any other time before this, Jay would be here, too, and he’d most likely be making fun of you and Chenle right now. It’s like things have gone back to day one, and neither of you are sure how to interact with each other. The atmosphere, the air, the storyline has all massively shifted. You’re unsure of what to do.

“I’m gonna watch another movie,” Chenle says absentmindedly as he finishes sending a message on his phone. “You in?”

“Oh, not this time.” You shake your head. “I’m exhausted. Last thing you need is me hogging your bed again all night.”

He laughs. “Door’s open if you change your mind. Night.”

“Goodnight,” you tell him, watching as he retreats into his room.

The click signifies he’s out of sight, out of mind. You let out a long sigh and clean up your plate before heading into your own room. It’s not as homey as Chenle’s, and the mattress isn’t as cloudy either, but you’ll make do. With a deep breath, you rest back on your pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Part of you wants to be with Chenle, but the other side of you knows you need to learn how to be okay on your own, too. If Jay’s death has taught you anything, it’s that not everyone you rely on will be around forever. Maybe if you’d relied on him less—

God damn it. You run your hands down your face, opting to scroll through your phone. Halfway through a random video, you receive a text from Chenle.

It’s a simple message of ‘found this and figured you’d want to see.’ It’s a picture of you and Jay, where you look like you’re ready to punch him in the face, and he’s beaming widely as if he’s the funniest person alive.

The photo makes you smile. Your memories of him will stand through the test of time, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to feel it. One thing’s for certain—his loss will always be felt. You’ll just try and make the most of the time you have left, because it’s very clearly fleeting.

You feel decent enough that you start to drift to sleep, but it’s your dreams that send you through a whirlwind. Images of your earlier years flash through your mind, and you relive some experiences you’d forgotten about. When Jay found out his first girlfriend cheated on him, or when he and Chenle got into their first ever argument and made you be the mediator. Happy memories suddenly came to an end when your dream showed him in his casket, surrounded by the people who love him—the people you abandoned to follow your dream.

You jolt awake, tears burning at your eyes despite refusing to fall. When you look at the clock, hours have passed, and it’s well into the middle of the night. You pat your cheeks to ground yourself to the real world, and overwhelming worry hits you.

What if you lose Chenle in the same way? What if all this time that was wasted is truly…gone, and you’ll never be able to make it up?

You never got to say goodbye to Jay. The days will continue to get colder, but he’ll always be cemented on a bright summer day in the middle of June. Winters without him will be like a frozen hell, and the summers will never be quite as sweet. Your heart pounds in your chest where your guilt resides, and there’s only one solution you know that’ll work.

You throw your blanket off your body and slide out of bed. The floors of Chenle’s house creak beneath your feet as you walk the short distance from your room to his. You contemplate knocking first, but you’re pretty sure he’s asleep anyway.

When you push the door open, the noise catches his attention. He turns over, eyebrows furrowed as he catches you in the frame.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey,” you mutter, clasping your hands together. “Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Nah.” He sits up. “Not doing too great at that these days.”

“Oh. Well, um, do you wanna watch that movie?”

Chenle smiles gently at you and pats the other side of his bed. “For sure.”

You end up next to him, resting your head on him like you did last time. He wraps his arm around you and gently taps his fingers against your shoulder. Eventually, you completely relax and stare forward at the screen. Despite the movie playing, you already feel your tiredness pulling at you again.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “It’s just…late. You weren’t asleep?”

“I…” You pause and turn to look at him. “You want me to be honest?”

“Always.”

“I’m so…scared. I’m not really sure of what, but I have this ball of worry in me. It like, physically hurts.” You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on him.

“I get it,” he murmurs. “Seriously. When things like this happen, it’s normal to feel that way. And it doesn’t make you selfish.”

A lump forms in your throat. “I—Chenle, I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures you, pulling you closer to hug you. “I promise you, you’ll always have me.”

“But we never know, do we?” Your voice shakes. “All of it could be over in the blink of an eye—”

He cups your cheeks. “Just relax, okay? I’m right here. I’ve thought the same things about you, you know. To the point where I’m scared to let you out of my sight. But living in fear is worse than not living at all.”

“What do we do without…” You groan as the first tear falls, but before you reach up to wipe it away, Chenle beats you to it.

“We do exactly what he’d want us to do. Keep going and make life whatever we want it to be. He’d be so pissed if he knew we were sad right now.”

“God, he would.” You let out a short laugh. “He’s glaring at us, isn’t he?”

“Oh, for sure. For this and for having a fucking sleepover without him.” Chenle’s smile widens.

“He loved sleepovers.”

“He was insufferable about them,” he interjects.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says, and despite the obvious part of all of it being out of his control, something settles in you.

Your brows furrow as you gulp, studying him to figure out what about this feels…shifted. Things don’t feel like they have every single time you’ve come home in the past, but that may be because of the obvious. There was always three of you. How do you recover from that and become two?

“You don’t have to feel weird about staying in here,” Chenle tells you. “I sleep better when I’m not alone, anyway.”

“It’s not just being alone…I think I sleep better because it’s you.” You curl further into him, and he squeezes you gently.

“Me too.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What did you say earlier? To my mom.”

“Oh, not much.” He shrugs. “Just that it was shitty to say something like that to you after everything that’s happened recently. And that you already feel bad enough, and she doesn’t need to make it worse when it’s not your fault to begin with.”

“Not much, huh?” You chuckle.

“It wasn’t enough,” he replies. “I could’ve ranted for hours about how that whole thing was bullshit. But I figured you’d be hungry, so I took you home instead.”

Home.

His home. Not yours. But you’ve never quite felt like you belonged anywhere as much as you do right now. You slide your legs to tangle them with his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. Without explanation, your heart skips a beat. The warmth of his palm against yours has your mind in overdrive, but you don’t acknowledge it.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispers.

You nod, terrified of shattering whatever shroud of calm is over you. Instead of a verbal response, you just close your eyes and try to ignore whatever that nagging feeling is snapping at the back of your brain.

Chenle lets out a short sigh, and it doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out. You listen to the steady thumping of his heart, the rhythm guiding you closer to falling asleep. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’s alive. The sound you’re hearing is proof of that, so at that moment you make a vow to yourself. To him.

You’ll never let distance separate you two again. You’ll never let him go the same way you did with Jay.

You’re going to be better.

And that promise, resounding in your soul, is enough to make the night around you fade to black.

A week and a half passes, and you’ve yet to spend an entire night on your own. You try, but every single time, either your or Chenle cave. Sometimes, he’d crawl into your bed without a word, pull you close to him, and breathe you in before falling asleep in silence.

He very quickly becomes your comfort. The only person you want to be around or talk to in the wake of a monumental loss. You try not to let Jay consume your thoughts, but every time you allow your mind to wander, he’s waiting for you at every corner.

The only time you’re truly at ease is with Chenle, and you’ve started getting used to being around him all the time. Today in particular, the two of you decided to have an impromptu picnic in the backyard, the sunset turning the sky oranges and pinks. Both of you lie flat on a blanket he spread out, staring up at the clouds as they scour across the sky.

An empty wine bottle is on the grass not even a foot away from you, and another one is half empty in between you and Chenle. You’ve had just enough to bring a calm, steady feeling over you, and you’re able to forget the world for a moment.

Your best friend lets out a sigh, shuffling a bit closer to you.

“What’s up?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him.

You’re lost in the way the sunset illuminates his face, how overwhelming Chenle he is while equally being reminiscent of an angel.

“You think he’s up there?” he whispers.

Your gaze returns to the sky. “I’d like to think so.”

“He better be. We both know he wouldn’t last a day in Hell.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “I guess I’ve been thinking like that recently. About where we go after…”

“You know I’ve always had a sixth sense about him.” You nudge his arm. “Wherever he is, he’s happy. I can feel it.”

“God, I hope so.” Chenle inhales sharply. “I just wish…I don’t know. That there was something I could’ve done to prevent all of this.”

“Don’t. You’re the one who told me the what-ifs are pointless. There’s nothing we can do to change that he’s gone, but we keep him alive in our memories. That’s what he’d want.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he admits as he clasps his hands together over his stomach.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He wets his lips. “Jay’s gone. You’ll go back to work eventually. It’ll just be me here, and I—am I behind? Should I be doing something with my fucking life?”

“Chenle—”

“You’ve got these amazing opportunities out there for you, (Y/N). Jay doesn’t get the chance to try, and I’m gonna waste my fucking life away in this God damned town.” He gulps and lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. And I hope you know this isn’t your fault—”

“Zhong Chenle, would you look at me?” you snap, waiting for him to turn his head.

Chenle furrows his eyebrows, and as his eyes meet yours, you see the desperate worry behind them. The fear of a meaningless life after the loss of a friend who could never do better now that he’s gone, and the knowledge that his other friend got out while she could.

You know him like the back of your hand. He doesn’t want this life. Truth be told, he never did. He wanted to make something of himself, much like you were doing now, and he never got the chance. No moves were made.

You want to tell him there’s still time, but you know better than to go there at this point. With a soft smile, you reach over and cup his cheek, allowing your thumb to run over his cheekbone.

“It’s not your fault. There was nothing either of us could do to stop this, okay? And do you know how pissed Jay would be hearing you talk about yourself like this? Chenle, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. If there’s anyone in this world who can take it by storm, it’s you.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Jay…dying doesn’t mean you have to lay here and die, too.”

“I needed you,” he says. “When he died, I needed you, and you were here. And you always know what to say or what to do. Helping you took the thoughts away from me, because as long as you needed me, I was distracted from feeling fucking helpless about everything.”

“I needed you, too,” you tell him.

His frown deepens, but his gaze softens. Your heart seems to skip a beat, and you still haven’t moved your hand from his face. The stare you’re locked in with him has energy thrumming through your veins, and the atmosphere around you shifts. A slight purple hue from the sky flutters against his skin.

“I still do,” he murmurs.

You nod. “Me, too. I’m not going anywhere, Lele.”

As his eyes travel down to your mouth, you quickly find yourself doing the same. Your imagination runs wild, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. Everything that happens next is so quick, you almost don’t believe it’s true.

Both of you seem to lean forward at the same time, and his mouth brushes yours. His hand ends up on your hip, and yours moves up to his hair. The soft strands have your breath hitching, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. You’re kissing him. You’ve never considered anything like this with Chenle before, but nothing in your life has ever felt so right.

His lips work so perfectly against yours, you forget about absolutely everything except for him. Fingers gripping onto the fabric of your shirt, he shifts closer to you to close the rest of the distance. You attempt to follow his lead, but you’re interrupted by the wine bottle between you falls right onto your lap, the deep red liquid making you gasp as it soaks into your pants.

“Shit,” you curse, jolting away from Chenle.

He quickly grabs some of the paper towel he brought outside and attempts to soak up the alcohol soaked into your clothing. His hand presses against your thigh, and with a gasp, you realize what truly happened.

You just kissed Chenle. You would’ve continued kissing him, too, if the stupid bottle hadn’t been in the way. But now you’ve got his fingers digging into your leg, the warmth zinging through your veins like lightning as you swat his hands away.

“(Y/N), I—”

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Everything’s fine.”

You quickly stand and make your way into his house to change. And to avoid what will come of this situation. Once you’re in your room, you close the door and lock it behind you, sinking down until you’re sitting on the floor.

You don’t care about your pants. Every aspect of your life has been upheaved this week. You don’t need things to change with Chenle, too. Ever since you were little, you, Jay, and Chenle had always been open and honest with each other—probably too much, in hindsight, but you trusted them both with your life. As far as you were aware, none of you had ever even come close to romantic feelings for each other.

When Chenle said he needs you, is that what he meant? Does he need you or does he need someone?

Your calm buzz from the wine has disappeared, and now panic sets in. You already lost one best friend, and you refuse to lose another. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted to kiss him. Or how much you enjoyed it. Or how badly you want to go out there and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

You flinch at the knocking.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His voice is strained, like he’s having just as hard of a time as you are.

When you don’t answer, you hear a shuddering breath escape him.

“(Y/N), please,” he pleads. “I’m so sorry. Seriously, I have no idea what came over me, and I just—I need you, okay? I can’t be alone right now.”

You sniffle and stand up, cracking the door open so you can see him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Please don’t hate me.”

“You idiot, I could never hate you,” you reassure him, pulling him into a hug.

He sighs in relief, the tension in his body deflating as he holds you as tightly as he can. And before you know it, he’s shuddering in your grasp, his body wracked with sobs. Your heart shatters, and you cradle the back of his head. He practically collapses into you, and it has both of you on the floor.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Worry has your stomach twisting and turning, and all you can do is run your fingers through his hair and make sure he knows you’re here. That you’ll never go anywhere without him again.

“I’m so sorry.” Barely coherent, he tightens his grip on you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, rocking him back and forth as you fight your own tears. “Everything’s okay. I promise, Lele, I’ve got you.”

After a while of you rocking him back and forth, he stops crying. Your shirt is soaked, but you couldn’t care less. You know he needed this, to finally let go of every pent up emotion trapped in his heart, and you want to make sure his thoughts won’t build up like that again.

He falls asleep against you, his grip not loosening. Eventually, you doze off too.

When you wake up, you quickly realize you’re now laying in your bed. The room is pitch black, and it takes you a moment to adjust. Chenle’s nowhere to be found, even when you pat the bed next to you to see if he’d taken his normal spot.

You toss the blanket off your lap. Before leaving the room, you change your wine-stained pants to shorts, and swap your shirt out for a T-shirt. As you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the light on. Chenle sits at the table, a glass filled with bronze liquid in front of him. With his palms covering his face, he sighs.

“Lele,” you mutter, voice hoarse from sleep.

His tired eyes meet yours, and he quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip of his drink. You shuffle closer and sit directly across from him, clasping your fingers together.

“You’re still up?” you ask.

He nods once.

“Can you talk to me please? This is scaring me.”

He gulps. “I’m so sorry. For earlier. All of it. I have no idea what got into me, and then just—I should’ve left you alone after, too, and I didn’t, and I feel like a fucking ass—”

“Clearly, you’ve had some pent up emotions going on. It’s okay to be confused about them, and I’d never be mad at you for needing me. You’re my best friend. One kiss is not going to ruin us or something. If this is the first time you’ve cried for real since Jay died, you needed that, too.”

“I’m…I don’t know. Embarrassed?”

“Oh, come on.” You scoff. “You’ve done way more embarrassing things in your life that I’ve witnessed.”

“It’s different now.” He frowns.

“Different? How?”

“Everything is different. Jay’s gone, we’ve both changed as people, our families barely even talk anymore. And you know they’ve been best friends for as long as we’ve been alive. If they can drift apart, does that mean we will, too?” he rants, tugging his fingers through his hair.

“Is that what last night was about?”

“I can’t lose you, okay? I panicked last night after I kissed you, ‘cause it felt like I’d ruined everything. And you like, ran away from me, and I—shit, I don’t know. Everything inside me just…froze. All I could think about was that if you left me, too, I’d be completely alone.” He downs the last of his drink, cringing as the liquid rolls down his throat.

“I would never leave you. No matter what.” You reach across the table and grab his hand. “Whatever that meant for you, whether it was an impulsive decision or if you truly wanted it, you can be honest with me. We’re going through a big change right now, you know. Things are going to be confusing and the only way we’ll ever get through it is if we talk about those confusing things.”

He stares where you’re touching him, jaw tightening as his chest rises. “It wasn’t the first time I wanted to.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry if that’s weird—”

“Don’t. Just keep talking.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, honestly. I just…it feels like you’re the only person who understands me. The only one who ever will understand me.” His voice shakes as he speaks, and his grip tightens. “Ever since you’ve been back, things have…changed for me, I guess.”

Your heart pounds, apparently hammering against your throat and making it hard to breathe. You refuse to allow any reaction to come out until he’s done, because that’ll counteract everything you’re trying to do here.

“And I don’t know how they’ve changed, to be fair. It’s different. That’s all I know. We’re closer than we’ve ever been, and um…” He closes his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he gains the courage to continue.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Keep talking. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think I…like you.” Chenle’s shoulders slump as the words escape him. “But this is so…so much right after everything with Jay, and I don’t know if I really do, or if it’s because—”

“I get it, Lele.” You send a small smile his way. “It’s not weird, and I completely understand what you’re talking about. At the end of the day, we’ll always be best friends. So if this is something you want to explore, the worst case scenario is we end up right back to being friends, right?”

His widened eyes dart back to yours, shock evident on his face. “What?”

“There’s only one way to figure out if it’s real or if it’s a product of circumstances.” You shrug. “And honestly, I’ve been…the same, I think. I kissed you out there, too. But we don’t have to make this weird. We can let things naturally progress if they do, and until then, we’ll just be us. Okay?”

“How long?” he asks quietly. “When did you start…”

“The night we came back here after everything my mom said,” you tell him. “I needed you, and you refused to leave my side.”

“It was that day for me, too. I saw the look on your face when she said all those things to you. The thought of you and Jay like that got me thinking, I guess.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making this weird.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We’re both adults and we’ve known each other our whole lives. There’s nothing wrong with…exploring something as long as we’ll be okay after if it doesn’t work out.” You release his hand and grab the cup in front of him.

When you stand to put it in the sink, he leans back in his chair and watches you. You’re surprised by yourself, truly, because you expected some sort of awkwardness to start between the two of you after your conversation, but everything feels the same.

You make eye contact with him over your shoulder, and he gives you a small smile. When you make it back over to him, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“You need to get some rest,” you tell him.

“Come with me?” He places his hand over yours.

“Sure.”

He stands, and when he faces you again, the distance between the two of you is minuscule. You’ve known the man in front of you for your whole life. You’ve spent all that time with him, never quite feeling the way you do now.

Maybe it’s because of Jay’s passing, and the two of you are desperately grasping onto something familiar. There’s a pretty decent chance of that, but also…maybe this is how things were always meant to be.

You’re not entirely sure what to expect at this moment, but he pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You relax in his grasp, returning his gesture with ease. When he lets you go, he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom, and just like most nights before this one, the two of you quickly fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

A few days pass with no changes. You woke up first this morning, so you head into his kitchen to start the coffee. Leaning the small of your back on the counter, you close your eyes and inhale the scent of the dark, brewing liquid. Chenle’s shirt hangs off your shoulder, and it’s almost long enough to cover your shorts.

There’s a short knock on the front door, and with a frown, you move to answer it. When you open it, you’re surprised to find a woman behind it. She seems familiar, but you can’t place it.

“(Y/N)?” She frowns, eyeing you. “What are you doing here?”

You chuckle. “Sorry, do we know each other?”

“Oh, you probably don’t know me. Chenle and I dated not too long ago, and he used to tell me about you all the time. I heard about Jay and wanted to stop by and make sure he was okay.”

“Oh, he’s—” You pause, wondering what you should even say to this girl. “He’s sleeping right now. If you come back later, I’m sure he’ll be…um, accepting of conversation.”

Recognition comes back to you as soon as she explains who she is. They broke up over six months ago, and while Chenle didn’t really tell you why, he said he broke up with her. You hear footsteps behind you, and relief floods when you feel Chenle’s presence behind you.

“Did you need something?” he asks her.

“I, um, I heard about Jay. I know how close you guys were, so I wanted to see how you were doing. How are you doing? It’s probably good that (Y/N)’s back, right?” she rambles, clasping her hands together behind her back.

“Thanks for stopping by, but I’m alright. Having (Y/N) back is great, and you should probably get going.” Chenle’s tone stays steady, and you’re shocked to find him so stern with her.

“Chenle, I—”

“I don’t know what your goal was in showing up here, but you shouldn’t have. (Y/N), close the door please.”

You shoot a nervous glance over your shoulder, and then an awkward smile to the girl on the other side, and then do as he says. After, you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Not even worth the conversation,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that coffee I smell?”

You nod.  “Yep, I figured you’ve made me enough coffee, so it’s probably my turn.”

You rest the small of your back against the counter, and he approaches you, placing his hands on either side of you as he leans closer to you. Your heart races, lodged in your throat as you await his next move.

“You know, your eyes dilate when you look at me,” he teases you.

“Shut up.” You gently push at his chest and laugh. “It’s only because you piss me off.”

“Not according to science.” He gives you a smug grin.

“I cannot believe you’re flirting with me right now,” you tell him, scoffing. “I haven’t even had any coffee yet. I can’t keep up.”

It’s been days since the kiss. So much time has passed, and he hasn’t even so much as tried to kiss you again. The way his gaze flicks down and his smile fades has every logical thought escaping your brain.

“Relax,” he whispers. “It’ll never feel normal if you don’t.”

You let the tension release from your shoulders, and you nod. His hand slides beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his palm directly on your hip. Your face heats up at the gesture, unsure of how to reciprocate or let him know you like it.

“I think we should really talk about all of that, though.” You clear your throat.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “We’ll talk about it soon. Not at this very second.”

He lifts his other hand to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans forward. You meet him in the middle and grip onto his shoulders. The kiss is short, and as he pulls away, his eyes flutter open.

“Again,” you say.

He kisses you again, and this time, he moves a little closer to you to make sure his chest is against yours. His fingers weave into your hair, and you let out a short moan. Embarrassment floods through you as you pull away from him and drop your head against his chest.

“Did you just—”

“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head.

“Maybe we should put everything out on the table,” he continues. “Like what…um, what we’re okay with during our…this, and what things are off-limits.”

“I would think that things shouldn’t be off-limits if we’re trying to see if this is real. If we’re…compatible.” Your cheeks burn as the words leave your mouth. “Why are we being like this? We’ve never been awkward talking about sex.”

His eyes widen and his face turns bright red. “Probably because we’ve never talked about sex together. Like me and you.”

“That’s really weird to think about.”

“Sure is.”

“Should we…move on? I think the coffee’s done.” You push his arm away so you can slide away from him. Clearing your throat, you grab two coffee cups from the cupboard.

Chenle leans his back against the counter where you’d just been, with his arms crossed over his chest. You make both coffees and mix them together before turning around to hand him his. He takes it with a smile and a quick thank you, and then you sip your own.

“So,” you start. “Tell me what happened with that girl.”

He sighs. “You really wanna know?”

“Of course, I do. It’s a little weird that I don’t know already.”

“She was weirdly obsessed with you and Jay. Like, constantly was bringing you up despite never having met you, and just…it was weird. Kinda gave me the vibes that she’d just be jealous all the time when you did come around.” He pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks further. “That, and she tried to fuck Jay.”

You choke on your coffee. “Hello? She did what?”

“Yep. Jay came to me immediately, obviously, and I broke up with her right after.” He shrugs. “We weren’t together for that long.”

“It was weird because she did act like she knew me.” You set your cup down on the counter and approach him again. Wrapping your arms around him, you place your head on his chest. He squeezes you closer to him.

“Jay and I talked about you all the time,” he reminds you. “C’mon, you’re our favorite person. Of course, everyone in our lives would know you.”

“You two have always loved to talk, that’s for sure.” You grin up at him, and he feigns annoyance and pokes your side.

It becomes an unspoken rule between the two of you that you’ll start trying to let things happen as naturally as possible. Living in a small town makes it nearly impossible to keep gossip from spreading, so any time you go out together, you make it look as friendly as possible. Regardless, people were going to talk anyway.

You and Chenle are halfway through a bottle of wine at dinner when both your mom and his mom show up. Chenle shares a panicked look with you, but you scoot over to let your mom sit down.

“What are you two doing here?” you ask.

“Yu Baeyoung said she saw you here.” Your mom nudges your arm.

You chuckle. “Yes, I’ve been around for almost a month and a half now.”

“No, silly, she means here. With Chenle,” his mom interjects.

Chenle’s face scrunches up. “Let’s not do this right now.”

“Do what?” Your mom’s brow raises.

“You guys have done this to us our entire lives.” You scratch the top of your head. “Can’t two friends enjoy dinner without meddling?”

“This is a nice place for a couple of friends to hang out.” His mom gestures to the wine. “Drink choice doesn’t seem friendly either.”

“Would you prefer us slamming shots of tequila?” Chenle presses his lips together in a thin line, but he’s incredibly stiff.

You decided not to tell your families about any of this for this exact reason—they’d get way too far ahead of themselves, and the last thing you need is for this not to work out and both sides asking hundreds of questions.

“Baeyoung said she’s seen you guys around together a lot, actually—”

“Mom, please.” Chenle lets out a long sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had something to tell you, we’d let you know. And if you did think we were here for…I don’t know, whatever, why would you butt in instead of letting us continue?”

You grab your wine glass and finish off what’s left in it.

“We’re just curious.” Your mom pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you’d be good for each other—”

“For the love of God, you were saying you wanted me with Jay for years just last week. Can I have friends ever? I really think you should go.” You don’t know what part of that sinks under your skin and picks at your soul, but you’re already on a tightrope with your mother.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” She waves you off.

“All due respect, but we’re trying to be normal after our best friend died, okay?” Chenle scoffs and taps his fingers on the table. “The three of us used to go out like this all the time. We’re learning to live without Jay, and it sucks, so if you could not assume things this fast, that’d be great.”

Guilt sinks into your heart, and you drop your head into your hands. You wish you knew what Jay would think of all of this. If he’d call you both crazy for trying to be together when you’ve lost him, a pivotal piece of this friendship circle.

“Chenle, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” his mom asks.

“It’s not. It’s really not. And not only was he our best friend, but he was the first…passing we’ve experienced. So, we need space if you guys are going to keep assuming things that don’t even matter to you. Even if we were dating, we’re grown adults and we’d tell you when we’re ready.”

You gape at Chenle. He slumps back against the booth and sighs. Your mother shifts next to you, and Chenle’s mom’s smile fades quickly. You’ve done well thus far in distracting yourself from Jay. The days don’t get easier, but they seem shorter, at least. Having Chenle by your side helps. He was right when he said it would never get better, only that you’d learn to adjust to it. Instead of a sharp, stabbing pain every time you think of him, the knife gets a little duller every day. That, or your heart steels in resolve a little bit more.

“He’s right.” You nod. “We’re not teenagers anymore, guys. You don’t need to know everything about us, or gang up on us at dinner. We’re adults trying to navigate life, and you need to give us the room to do that.”

“I never thought of it that way. This was all lighthearted fun, dear. We thought it might help to keep you guys distracted from everything, but we’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want us to do.” Chenle’s mom puts her hand on his shoulder.

Your mom murmurs an agreement, and then after a confirmation from you and Chenle, they get up and leave the two of you to your dinner. You empty the wine bottle between the two glasses and raise your eyebrow at him.

“I like when you stand up for us like that,” you say, leaning back against your seat.

A smile forms on his face as he rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe they just date crashed us. Maybe we’ll be able to go out without the town out to get us one day.”

“Doubtful. But hopefully, we’ll eventually know what this is.” You sip your wine. “Then, it won’t matter what everyone knows.”

His gaze softens and trails over you. “And we’ll be fine either way.”

“That we will.” You raise your glass and smile as he clinks his against yours.

When you get back to Chenle’s house, he guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He helps you take your jacket off, and the warm of his touch down your arms sends goosebumps along your skin.

At this point, you’re pretty sure it’s real for you. That your feelings aren’t a product of losing a friend and clinging onto normalcy, but the start of something beautiful you could have with Chenle.

You take a step toward your room, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back to him. He asks, “Where are you going?”

“To change, you loser.” You chuckle. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Can’t you just wear something of mine?” He wraps his arms around you. “I like when you wear my stuff.”

“Just say you wanna watch me take my clothes off, you freak,” you tease him.

His eyes widen, and he takes a step back while his cheeks redden. “I wouldn’t just ask you to do that, but if you wanted to—”

“Oh, my God.” You laugh abruptly. “You wanna see me naked.”

“Well, I mean, not if you don’t want me to.” He clears his throat, glancing up at the ceiling.

“You’ve seen most of me already,” you remind him.

“Context matters, you know,” he interjects. “Like, yeah, I’ve seen you in bikinis and stuff, but it’s not like we were gonna do anything about it back then. Am I even making sense? Sure, I’ve seen you pretty close to naked, but it wasn’t because of me? Please don’t let me say anything else.”

“Your awkwardness is slightly endearing.” You snort.

He pouts. “Ass.”

You take a step closer to him, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and press your lips against his. He reciprocates immediately, the gentle movement making your brain malfunction. When you pull away, he’s smiling at you.

“You kissed me.”

“Yes, I did,” you confirm. “We’ve kissed quite a bit the last few days.”

“We have, haven’t we?”

You chuckle and grab his wrist to pull him to his room. He follows you without hesitation and closes the door behind you both before he heads to his dresser. He pulls out a shirt for you and one for himself. You turn away from him and switch the top you’re wearing with his T-shirt. The fabric stops right below your ass, and you reach beneath it to unbutton your pants and push them down your legs. Once they’re off, you turn to get into his bed.

You find him in the exact same spot. His lips are slightly parted as his gaze travels down your body. Your entire life you’d been able to admit to yourself that you found Chenle attractive, because you had eyes. Of course, he was. But for him to not only be attracted to you, too, and also be vocal about it has your mind in shambles.

He watches you closely as you climb into his bed and pull the covers over yourself. You avoid looking at him as he changes, and within moments, he’s shuffling closer to you. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, to your jawline. Nerves spring in your stomach, but you turn your head to see him.

“Is there something you want?” you ask him.

“This is probably the worst time to say this,” he whispers. “But this is real for me. I know it. These feelings keep getting stronger and I—I wasn’t going to even say anything yet, but I had to tell you in case…”

You suddenly feel embarrassment rise to your cheeks. Chenle’s your best friend, but you did just get into his bed wearing his shirt and an admittedly skimpy pair of panties. You turn to face him.

“Before anything serious happened, I wanted to be sure.” He gulps. “Because that’s obviously…a big deal for us both, you know? And regardless of what we said, I think it’d be hard to go back to the way we were if we had sex and weren’t good for each other.”

“You ramble when you’re nervous,” you say.

“I do.” He chuckles.

“It’s real for me, too,” you whisper. Despite it being the complete truth, a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure where it came from, but you fight it the best you can.

Relief relaxes his facial features, and then he leans forward slowly until his lips brush yours. His eyes threaten to close, but he waits for you to make a decision. You’re not entirely sure what comes over you, but all you know is that you’ve never needed someone on the level you need Chenle.

You complete the kiss, weaving your fingers through his hair as you shift closer to him. Immediately, it’s like everything around you catches on fire, and it’s much too hot to stay as you are. You gasp into his mouth when his hand trails beneath your shirt, his touch leaving those same flames all over your skin. He grabs your ass and squeezes, a shiver rolling down his spine when he swallows your moan.

“You had to know what you were doing with these,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers just beneath the hem of your panties.

His words sink in, but nothing about this feels awkward to you. You’d be embarrassed if he knew how wet you were from his simple touches. All of that is background noise—all you care about is getting closer to him.

“Why isn’t this weird?” you whisper as you slide your hands beneath his shirt to get him to take it off. “We used to cringe at the thought of—”

“Would you kiss me, damn it?” He pulls you back to him, but instead of the urgency you expect, he kisses you gently, his lips slowly moving on yours. You roll, tugging him to take him with you.

Then he’s on top of you, slotted perfectly between your legs with your shirt riding up to expose more and more of your skin. His eyes scan over you, and he moves his hand up your side until you’re lifting yourself up to remove the fabric. A slight pause befalls both of you.

“What is it?” you ask him.

“I just…can’t believe I’ve never realized this before,” he whispers, eyebrows pinching. “How well we work together.”

You smile. “We’re pretty fucking great.”

“This probably sounds cheesy as hell,” he begins and scoffs at himself. “But you’re the most beautiful person I know.”

“Oh, come on.” Your cheeks heat up.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve always known that. You’re fucking radiant on the outside and warm and kind and loving on the inside. Nothing has ever or will ever be able to take that away from you, and I…” he trails off, swollen lips parting as he searches for what he wants to say next. “Don’t ever leave me. Please.”

You reach up to cup his cheeks. “Lele, I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me now, okay?”

“I’ll be here as long as you want me,” he murmurs as he lowers himself down. “No matter what.”

Chenle kisses you again, softer this time as if this energy between the two of you is fragile. You slide your hand into his hair and allow yourself to melt. Spreading your legs a little further to accommodate him, you pull at the hem of his shirt. He moves away from you only to take it off, and then he presses kisses on your jaw, down your neck. You’re gasping for air by the time he makes it to the swells of your breasts. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along the edge of your bra, allowing his teeth to graze you.

You let your head rest back against his pillows and sigh as he travels further, stopping once he reaches your navel. Your fingers clench the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he’s going to do next.

“This is okay?” he hums against your skin.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Being in the dark with only the shine of the stars to illuminate the room has this feeling much more intimate than you thought possible. You’d never imagined yourself in this position—literally—with Chenle, but now that you’re here, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

He tongues along the hem of your panties, and you have to stifle your gasp. The chill of the air contrasts with the wetness left on your skin, and goosebumps travel up your body. His fingers loop through the waistband, and without any words from him, you lift your hips up to help him remove them.

Chenle’s lips find your inner thigh, and you can’t hold back the noise that leaves you. It’s been a while since you’ve craved someone’s touch, and you never want his to leave your body. He already feels so different than everyone else. He’s still your best friend, but now he’s so much more, too. You trust him inexplicably, and this moment will change the trajectory of your lives forever.

You feel his breath against your core, and you drop your head back. He shifts and brings his hand up to hold your body down to the mattress, his thumb sliding between your legs to gently nudge your clit.

“Relax,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.”

He seems nervous himself, but after another shuffle, his fingers slide along your entrance. Your back arches as he pushes them inside. His breath shudders as he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“You’re…perfect, (Y/N),” he says, entranced as he slowly thrusts his hand. “So perfect.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to the feeling. When he kisses your clit, you grasp harder onto the sheets. Knowing the man pleasuring you is the one person in the world that knows you the most, that knows who you are within your very soul, has you immersed in every movement he makes. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before.

Sounds of your arousal follow his fingers, and he finally wraps his lips around your clit. You let out a loud moan, your back arching at the overwhelming sensations. He sucks on your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue back and forth in a matching pace with his hand. You squirm below him, and your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

He moves just a little faster, his other hand flat on your stomach to keep you from moving too much. You fear any sounds louder than whispered pleasure might shatter this moment between you and Chenle, but as he brings you closer to the edge, you struggle to hold back.

He curls his fingers to find your spot, and your body jerks. When he repeats the action, he moans, the vibrations against your clit sending you to euphoria. You gasp and your eyes roll back. He aids you through your high, carefully bringing you down before pulling away from your core. You practically slump on the mattress, but you lift yourself up to look at him. He sits up on his knees to get a better look at you, and you watch his every move as he lifts his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your arousal from them. 

You gulp at the sight of him like this, his length straining against his boxers as his darkened eyes travel over your body. His tongue swipes along his lips one last time, and then he’s climbing over you again. You welcome his kiss despite the taste of yourself.

“I need you,” you tell him, pushing at the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait anymore.”

“Are you sure?” he whispers. “You can tell me if you change your mind.”

You shake your head. “Please, Lele.”

He inhales sharply, and then he’s assisting you in pushing the last barrier of clothing off. “Do we need a condom? I have some.”

“I—” Your face heats up. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t slept with anyone in…um, a long time, so I’m clean.”

“I got tested recently,” he replies. “I’m clean, too. But this is up to you. Whatever you want is cool with me.”

“Waste of time. I want you now.” You pull him in to kiss him, and he sighs against your mouth.

He reaches down and strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. His eyes travel along your body, almost as if he’s verifying you’re real. Slowly, he pushes inside, watching your expression carefully to ensure you’re alright.

Your heart thuds in your chest as he continues to move forward, burying himself deep inside you until he’s flush against you. He gives you a bit to adjust, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hand snakes beneath your body to unclasp your bra, and you arch to assist him in taking it off.

“‘M good,” you reassure him. “You can move.”

“Just need a second like this,” he returns, dropping his head on your shoulder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His words send shivers up your spine, and you put your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you again, and pulls out slowly to push back in. The sensation of him rubbing against your inner walls has you gasping. His pace is slow but you’ve never felt so heavenly in your life. As his tongue parts your lips, you wrap your legs around his waist.

When you call out his name, he curses under his breath. Every time he thrusts in, you lift your hips to meet him, despite how you begin to shake from the intensity of all of it. His chest brushes yours with each movement, and his teeth sink into your bottom lip to pull at it.

Never in your life has anything ever felt like this. As if Chenle was the last piece of the 1,000 piece puzzle you deemed life, and you finally found it after all these years. His soft moans have your toes curling, and despite the knot tying in your stomach, you don’t want this to end.

As if he knows every last thought in your mind, he reaches between you and rubs circles on your clit. You shudder in his grasp and dig your nails into his shoulders. He moves faster, and once his tip slides into your spot, you crumble around him. You throw your head back, a moan tumbling from your lips as you fall apart.

Moments after you, his hips falter as he approaches his high. You kiss him hard, and he groans into your mouth, pushing as far into you as he can to finish. The sensation has you gasping all over again, but you hold onto him for dear life.

He thrusts a couple more times to bring you both back to reality, and as he slows to a stop, he peppers kisses on your face. Neither of you move yet. You bask in the feeling of him inside you, and his hand rubs up and down your thigh.

He carefully removes your legs from around his waist, and then he sighs as he pulls out of you slowly. “Let me grab a towel. Hold on.” With a quick kiss to your forehead, he stands up and slips his boxers back on before walking out of the room.

An inherent sense of peace overwhelms you, and once he comes back, he cleans up the mess between your legs before climbing in bed next to you. He cradles the back of your head to his chest, and he hums quietly.

“Try to get some sleep,” he whispers.

With him close and his heart beating beneath your ear, you don’t even have to try.

The birds chirping outside the window wake you up. You’re still tangled up with Chenle, blanket snug around both of you with you curled into his chest. Shifting closer, you think about going back to sleep until he’s ready to get up, too.

“Morning,” he mutters, voice hoarse from sleep.

You shake your head. “More sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezes you and lets out a sigh of content.

Peaceful silence takes the two of you over, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of how far you both have come. You’re on top of the world—your feelings for Chenle are real, and you’ve discovered something you never thought would be possible.

His fingers trace up and down your spine, a deep hum escaping him. “This is real.”

“Mhm,” you reply. “We’re naked right now.”

“And you’re so fucking soft.” He sighs. “Is there any reason we need to get up today?”

“Wouldn’t matter if there was. Not moving.” You kiss the base of his neck.

“Sounds good to me.”

Despite the prospect of being wrapped up in each other all day, eventually, both of you get hungry. He takes you to one of the local diners for breakfast, and you study him closely while he sips his coffee and looks through the menu.

You expected some aspect of your relationship with him to be awkward at this point, but nothing has changed between you. Well, with the exception that every time you see his fingers, heat rises to your cheeks. Besides that, you’re perfectly normal.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks without removing his eyes from the menu.

“Who, me?”

He finally glances up, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, (Y/N), you.”

“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’m just…thinking.”

“I put that together.” He tips his cup to his lips again.

“What do we do from here?” you blurt out, immediately dropping your head into your palm.

He chuckles and clasps his hands together over the table. “I was waiting for you to bring it up. But if we both know it’s real, and we’ve…gone as far as we have, um, I was hoping we’d be together.”

“That doesn’t scare you?” you ask.

“Does it scare you?” he counters.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

“Full transparency, then. That’s what I want. I want us to be together and, as insufferable as they are, I want our families to know, too. And I want it to be us against the world, (Y/N). We can do whatever we want.”

“I guess that also brings us to what happens next month.” You look down at your lap. “When I’m supposed to go back to work.”

He gulps but waits for you to continue.

“What if…What if I didn’t go back?” you start. “Think about it. We could stay here.”

“You want to come live here?”

“I…I guess I just—” You pause in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “After everything with Jay, it made me realize how long I’ve really been gone. And being back here…I missed it a little. You and my family and the town itself. I don’t want to miss any part of anyone else’s life. I really did Jay a disservice by not coming around as often as I should’ve.”

“You’d give up all of that work you did for me?” He frowns.

“It’s not just for you, but yes. I don’t fully enjoy what I do. It’s all work and it takes up all my time. Why do that when I could do something around here and get to spend actual free time with you?”

He reaches across the table and grasps your hand. “There’s always room for you with me, but I want you to be sure about something like that. You’ve worked so hard, and if you’re changing your mind because of us, I don’t want to come between you and your dreams.”

“I’ve been thinking about it before we started this,” you tell him. “From the second I heard about Jay. I certainly don’t want you out here by yourself.”

“Don’t think we could swing long distance?” He cracks a smile.

“Ridiculous.” You scoff and take a drink of your coffee. “We have some time. Let’s think about it later, alright?”

“Agreed.”

After breakfast, Chenle leads you out of the restaurant with your fingers intertwined. You try not to blush at the simple gesture, but you can’t help it. He leads you to the passenger side of his car, and you lean back against the metal. The distance between you two is almost non-existent, and his hand rests on your waist.

“You’re sure you don’t care if people know?” he asks.

“Positive.” You grin.

He cups your cheek, smiling back at you as he strokes your skin with his thumb. After, he leans in and kisses you. Oxygen is stolen from your lungs, but you relish in the feeling of him. The sun feels warmer, the day a little brighter, and your heart a little fuller.

You never expected this to be the answer—for you to find a different kind of solace in your best friend, but you’re here anyway.

He winks at you once he pulls away, earning him a slap on the chest. After you roll your eyes, he opens the door for you and guides you into the car.

By the time you make it back to his house, he leads you inside. You’re barely a few feet within the door when both of your phones start buzzing. He takes his out of his pocket, shows you it’s his mother calling, laughs, and tosses it on the couch. You follow his lead, and then he grabs your hand and pulls you towards his room.

“If you thought you were going to make it out of here for long, you were mistaken.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I have plans for us today. Our schedule’s booked actually, and it mostly involves us in my bed.”

“Luckily for you, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Oh, good. Hopefully, they don’t decide to come here. Probably not the show they thought they’d be signing up for.” He ponders the thought for a moment.

“Shame on them for not respecting our privacy,” you mutter, grasping onto the back of his neck. “Maybe it’ll teach them to back off a little.”

“You’re so right,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you.

Tugging you closer, he whirls you around to walk you back toward his bed, where you’re more than ready to spend the next few hours.

Later that night, you and Chenle are ready for bed, with you curled into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, humming quietly. You don’t recognize the melody, but he relaxes you all the same.

“Do you think this ever would’ve happened if Jay were still here?” you ask him as you trace shapes on his shoulder.

He purses his lips in thought. “I’d like to think so.”

“Me, too,” you admit. “This feels…like things were always supposed to be this way.”

“I can’t imagine it any other way now.” He takes a deep breath. “I needed this. You. And I can’t believe there was a time where we weren’t like this.”

You move so you’re resting on top of him, chests pressed together. He clasps his hands together over the small of your back.

“He’d be happy for us, right?” You scan over his face, tracing over his cheekbones with your finger.

“Of course,” Chenle says without hesitation. “I think he’d be asking a bunch of questions right now. Like how we knew, what we were gonna do about all of this, if he’s going to be the man of honor or the best man.”

“God, he so would.” You laugh.

“And he’d be insufferable about it, too.”

“He’d be the man of honor, by the way. I was his favorite.”

Chenle’s smile grows. “I love you.”

Your heart stops in your chest, and your lips part as you stare at him in shock. Although, you should’ve expected it. You fell for him, too, but hearing it verbalized is a whole new story you’ve never considered before.

Hell, the two of you frequently told each other those three words, but you know now they hold much more importance than they ever have.

“You…”

“Yeah, I do.” He nods.

“Like…romantically?”

“You’re such a loser,” he teases you. “Yes, romantically. Don’t make me take it back now.”

“I’ll be sad if you take it back, ass.” You narrow your eyes at him. “And I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear.”

He squeezes you tightly, chuckling when the air rushes from your lungs. While you never quite expected things to work out this way, you wouldn’t change what’s become of your relationship with Chenle. He was—and is—your best friend, and for some reason, all you can do is look forward to the future, where he’ll be more. Best friend always, but also the one you love.

The last couple weeks before you’re supposed to return to work are hectic to say the least. It feels as if you and Chenle are rushing to figure things out—where the two of you will stand when you leave and what you’ll do in the meantime.

So, in an attempt to get your minds distracted, you opt to go have a couple drinks with Jay. Of course, you had to stop and get his favorite beer—the same one you’d always hated and that Chenle’s not too fond of, but for Jay, you would endure it.

He brings a blanket. When you find Jay’s headstone, he spreads out the fabric and waits for you to sit before he joins you. You grasp onto his hand, and his knee bumps yours, but that’s the only physical contact you have with him.

Chenle opens up three cans—one for him, one for you, and one for Jay.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done this together, but it very well be the last. You don’t want to leave him. Not really. But he refused to let you give up what you’d worked hard for. You escaped the town, and he didn’t want you to even think about coming back when you’ve got so much left to do in your new city.

Chenle sips the drink, cringing at the taste. “Can’t believe he liked this shit.”

“He had peculiar tastes, that’s for sure.” You chuckle and refrain from touching your own. “You think he can really hear us when we’re talking to him like this?”

“Stranger things have happened,” he replies.

“That’s the truth,” you tease him and nudge his shoulder. “Maybe we should break the news to Jay.”

He takes the third can and dumps some over the grass. You both watch as it absorbs, and once Chenle’s satisfied, he purses his lips.

“You’ve missed a lot, dude.” He lets out a long sigh. “Almost three months without you feels unreal.”

You squeeze his hand and send a soft smile his way.

He continues, “But I seriously think you’d be pissed at us if we admitted we were still sad, so…(Y/N) and I are…together. Like, we’re dating. And to be honest, we’re both not too sure where it came from, but we keep each other sane after all this stuff.”

You loop your arm through his and rest your head on his shoulder. Fighting back tears, you realize how much you’d missed as well. There were stories you had yet to hear. Some you’d never get the chance to.

“I’d like to think you’d be happy for us.” You chuckle and take another drink. “You and this God awful beer.”

“I can almost hear him defending it right now.” Chenle sends a dazzling grin your way, and you watch him fondly. You never imagined coming back home would lead to all of this.

You and Chenle talk to Jay for a while. The sun shines pleasantly against your skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Chenle tells the story of you two falling for each other, how it was gradual and unexpected. Things had simply shifted, and everything became much more than you’d ever imagined.

When the sun begins to set, you wrap up your time with Jay. All three cans are empty. You grab them while Chenle folds the blanket, and then you head back to his car. His arm is firmly around your waist, and you fight the urge to melt into him.

As soon as you’re inside his house, he drops the blanket and takes the objects from your hands. Next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in one of the tightest hugs Chenle’s ever given you. You reciprocate the best you can, threading your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You okay?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Just wanna hold you for a sec.”

You hum in agreement, allowing yourself to melt into his grip. He kisses the top of your head, and when he pulls away to look at you, a fond gleam appears in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says.

“Uh oh,” you interject, fighting your grin as he purses his lips in faux annoyance.

“What if I went with you?”

You recoil. “What?”

“I’ve wanted to get away from this place. You made it out. Let’s go together.” He looks at you earnestly as he awaits your response. “I love you, (Y/N). Being apart from you isn’t exactly what I want at this point.”

“You want…to move with me?”

“If you’re okay with it.” Chenle nods. “Think of the life we could build together. A real one that’s not influenced by the crazy ass people in this town.”

You flounder for words to say. This is the last thing you expected from him, but maybe you should’ve thought of this yourself. Chenle had run into a hard time because he’d wanted out for so long. You could help him.

“I don’t want you to give up everything you’ve worked for. Living here isn’t in the cards for you right now, and I understand that. But we both have an opportunity here. You keep doing what you set out to do, but this time, we don’t have to be apart.” He fiddles with the seam of your shirt, almost nervously avoiding your gaze.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, come with me.”

He grins so widely, you’re almost worried it hurts. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you hard, and you almost stumble backwards.

This was the beginning of a new journey for both of you. Neither of you were sure what to do without Jay around, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving Chenle all by himself. If he wanted to come with you, you’d be more than happy to have him.

You’ll get him out of this town he’s come to resent, and he’ll be by your side for every success and failure.

There’s something special about falling for your best friend—about loving someone who you’d already loved and known so thoroughly, it’s mostly as if nothing changed at all. Maybe this part of your relationship with him was always there, and you’d both been too blind to see it.

All you know is, after a clear shift in energy, things between you and Chenle became real.

You wonder about Jay. If he sees the two of you, if he’s proud of you. At the end of the day, you could spiral until your brain gives out, but if there’s one thing you could expect from Jay, it’s that he’ll never stop checking in on you and Chenle. Your group is incomplete without him, but you’ll learn to live in a different manner.

With Chenle by your side, there’s not a damn thing in the world that could bring you down.

[rewrittenwrongs]

Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.

And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.

But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.

Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.

So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit inside like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.

Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.

[adirtylittleheart]

REMEDY You and Matt are suck in a house full of people during a relentless summer heat wave. With frustrations running high from the heat and lack of sex, you find a way to help and remedy that. Warning: 18+ Smut. Fucking. P in V. Public (but private). MattXfem reader & oc (see below) Notes: Please note that I am putting this up as a READER and an OC. So, the first section will be the READER and the second is OC. I've had so many people ask me to please make it reader and others want it OC. So, I'm going to try and cater to all. I hope this works...if not I'll return to the drawing board and try something else. Maybe post two separate? Let me know what you think - I'll see DM's quicker cause somedays I don't have the time to get on and I have a lot of activity. THANK YOU ALL THOUGH FOR READING. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.

REMEDY The heat was unbearable. The Sturniolo family went to The Cape for the summer, with girlfriends and significant others tagging along. The house wasn’t huge and some of us had to share sleeping spaces and set-up camp in the living room. We were tight knit and we all got along like a house on fire, so it wasn’t a problem but lack of sleep on the hot, sweltering nights was another story. With severe heatwaves come some complications like; power outages and malfunctioning air conditioners. It was the kind of heat that pressed against one’s skin. Where you wanted to fan yourself down, but all that seemed to do was move the hot air around. The hot, humid breeze did nothing but tease with the promise of relief.

‘’The fucking weather!’’ Matt groaned, ‘’This was supposed to be a great trip for us…for you,’’ he said looking disappointed

‘’Well,’’ I said, and leaned forward then gave him a kiss, ‘’if it’s any conciliation, I’m having a great time.’’

‘’You would in this heat,’’ Matt said through a laugh, ‘’you’re the only one here that will get through this unscathed. You’re the only one here that actually enjoys the heat, which makes me wonder what the fuck is wrong with you. How come you’re so perfect and not even the heat will get you?’’

I laughed, ‘’so…I’ve meant to tell you a long time ago, but there was never really a perfect time to do so, but I’m from this little planet called -’’ I was saying when Matt let out a laugh cutting me off

‘’Shut up,’’ he said and pushed his lips to mine. Just a few days ago, I accidentally overheard Matt talking to Nick and Chris and found out a few things that didn’t know, and that had me feeling like I was the luckiest and most blessed person to walk the earth. Mind you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I sure am glad I stopped in my tracks when I walked past the kitchen and heard my name. They say you never hear anything go about yourself when you eavesdrop but I’m a testament to that being complete bullshit. He had said to them that he knew without a doubt that I was the one he wanted to marry, have kids with, and spend the rest of his life with. That he loved that I loved his family as much as they loved me and that I was always willing to help out… and most of all he loved that I was definitely up for anything. The biggest smile crossed my face when he said he loves how I make everything fun and exciting in his eyes. He also said he loved that I came across as a little saint to everyone else, but I was definitely a little devil when it came to fucking. At that point I walked away – I was happy and it was all I ever needed to hear.

Matt sighed next to me as we lay on the blow-up mattress. The heat really was relentless and stifling. Every time we moved, it felt as if the sheets were clinging to us. A fan was blowing cool air but it was as helpful and equivalent to puckering one’s lips up and blowing air out of them. It was so hot, we were all struggling to sleep. I sensed that Matt was not only frustrated by the heat but also that with so many people in a house sharing, we couldn’t do much in the sex department, though we certainly found ways. Matt and I said that we would sleep in the living room on a blow-up mattress while Chris and his girlfriend shared the couch.

‘’Are you okay?’’ I whispered when Matt once again let out a groan

‘’It’s like we’re in a desert or something,’’ Matt mumbled and sat up. He reached for a glass of water on a nearby side table and made some kind of sound then he looked at me with horror. ‘’The fucking ice has melted in the glass already,’’ he said, his voice laced with disbelief. It concerned me because Matt was generally calm but he was definitely agitated by the heat.

I lay for a moment, staring at the ceiling wondering how I could help him. My eyes swung from one end of the ceiling to the other, then back again. I suddenly sat up, finding the remedy to maybe both the heat and lack of sex problem…even if it was only a short reprieve. I slid off the mattress and then padded to his side, and put my hand out, palms up.

‘’Come on,’’ I whispered

‘’You two might as well just talk, and not whisper,’’ Chris said

‘’Shut up,’’ Matt said loudly through a laugh

‘’Fuck off,’’ Chris replied with a chuckle

‘’Sorry, Chris,’’ I said with a giggle. They never ceased to make me laugh with their friendly banter

‘’Nah (y/n), I mean it’s so hot, we can’t sleep anyway,’’ Chris said, his girlfriend giving a ‘’mhm’’ in agreement.

Matt put his hand in mine and I pulled him up. ‘’Where are we going?’’ he asked, his movements were slower than mine in the heat.

‘’A walk,’’ I said softly as I lead him to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of ice cold water and handed it to Matt as he looked at the time on the microwave, it’s glowing green telling him it was two in the morning. He sighed thinking it was a long way from morning but still the weather on the news had said it would be an equally hot day, if not hotter. I hesitated closing the door because the cool air felt so good on my hot skin. I had on what I can only describe as a t-shirt that I had taken a pair of scissors to. Matt had given me one of his old t-shirts and we cut the sleeves off, along with the neck line, widening it to help with the heat. I really didn’t mind the heat, but this? This was something else. I felt for everyone else because if I was feeling it, they must have been suffering. I closed the door and smiled at Matt, who gave me a weak smile back.

We slipped out the door, quietly into the night, ‘’Should I put a t shirt on?’’ Matt asked

‘’Show me one man who has a shirt on in this weather and I’ll give him a thousand dollars,’’ I said

‘’Does that include me and does it still stand until we get back?’’ Matt asked

I giggled and smacked his tight ass, ‘’always,’’ I replied

‘’Where are we going?’’ Matt asked and slipped his hand into mine. Our fingers intertwined and he lifted our hands and then he gave my hand a kiss. ‘’Thanks for this, it is slightly better out here.’’

I smiled at Matt, ‘’the park,’’ I said simply

The moon was full and illuminated the way for us. It was quiet but for the water lapping to the shore. The roads were dead and the park deserted. People had either passed out from the heat or were sitting in front of fans hoping to cool down. The park was relatively close to the house, but hidden and nestled amongst trees. I led Matt to the swings and Matt sat on one while I sat on the other, right next to him. I started swinging softly while Matt only moved back and forth slightly on the swing, keeping his feet on the ground. He took a sip of water, and offered me some, but I shook my head with a warm smile.

‘’Matt? Remember that park we went to at Evan’s house?’’ I asked and stopped the swing, then got off, ‘’you know, when he had that party?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Matt said as he put the bottled water on the ground, and then it hit him. His eyes went big and his award-winning smile formed on his face. How could he have forgotten that?

‘’Yeah?’’ I asked and bit my bottom lip seductively

‘’Fuck yes! Hop on,’’ Matt said and I squealed softly with excitement as I grabbed the chains and lifted myself onto Matt’s lap, sliding my legs over his as I sat down, my legs handing over his on their side of the swing. Matt smiled, because the last time we both had fumbled a lot trying to work out how to do it but now we seemed to have mastered it. Well…we were going to find out.

‘’How did I get so lucky?’’ Matt asked me softly

I smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek and tilted his face up a fraction, ‘’I’m the lucky one,’’ I whispered and lightly brushed my lips against his.

My hand slid down his neck, and his chest, and then my fingers danced above his shorts elastic, as Matt deepened the kiss. It was never pedestrian. His kisses always made me feel desired, and wanted. I got drunk on our kisses. Matt moaned into the kiss and I felt his hands by mine. I knew he was getting impatient so I moved my hand and brought it to my pussy and moved my panties to the side while he pushed his shorts down as much as he could. The small piece of material was wet already and I felt Matt’s cock, now free of his shorts, as hard as a rock, between us. That alone sent every nerve in my body tingling.

His hands found the straps of my shirt and he pushed them down, over my shoulders. I smiled into the kiss and pulled my arms out the straps, letting the material fall softly. Matt broke the kiss, eager to get a nipple into his hungry mouth. I moaned, dropping my head back and arched my back, pushing my titties forward so Matt could take in more. He was a genius with his tongue no matter where it was on my body. I bit my bottom lip and slid my hand between us and closed my hand around Matt’s thick shaft. He was rock solid hard and I smiled wickedly because his pre-cum had run down his shaft, leaving him slick. He sucked in a sharp breath from the touch on his painfully erect dick but it felt so fucking good. I lifted myself, aimed his dick at my little tight entrance, then I slid onto his dick agonizingly slowly, savouring every inch going in. We both groaned loudly with simultaneous pleasure.

‘’Oh god (y/n),’’ Matt moaned, ‘’you have no idea how good that feels.’’

‘’Oh, but I do,’’ I said with a grin and licked my hand of the pre-cum, making Matt swear under his breath. ‘’Start swinging. We don’t want to be caught,’’ I purred.

‘’I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day’’ Matt said curling his hands around the chains,’’this won’t take long.’’

I smiled, as I also curled my hands around the chains, the cool metal making me even more aroused, ‘’me too.''

Matt laughed and pushed back with his legs and then let us fall forward on the swing as he tucked his legs back. He sure was going to have one hell of a workout keeping the swing in motion. I knew without a doubt he could handle it though. We were soon gliding through the air, back and forth. Every time we went back, I would slide down his dick and when we got to the furthest point, having to go back down, I would push down on him as forces of nature worked. We moaned loudly with sheer pleasure every time that happened and Matt groaned feeling himself deep inside of my tight, wet pussy. When we went back down, I was lifted up, his dick sliding halfway out, exposing him to the cooler air, then he would slip back into my hot pussy.. The contrast of heat and cool air in motion sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, never feeling anything like it.

Matt loved everything – the way we had to be so close, the way we molded into each other, the fact that we had to rely upon and trust each other. The tightness around his hard throbbing cock, the way my hair flew out and fanned behind me when we went up, and then around me when we went back down, and…. he loved the look on my face with my breasts firmly in front of him. He wanted to touch them, grab them but he couldn’t. Fuck! It was the most blissful torture ever. The deep penetration on the up was something different than normal penetration. It was a force that could only be achieved in their current position and situation.

Matt could tell I was close as my pussy started fluttering around his cock, my body got tense and I dropped my head.

‘’Ooh, Matt…shit, Matt…’’ I said with urgency as I felt my muscles tightening, the rush coursing through me and pure ecstasy shoot over my body. I let one hand go from the chains and put it around Matt’s shoulders, looking for more purchase. I pushed my face into the side of his neck as my walls clasped around Matt like a vice grip. The sheer strength around him set him on the very edge. My loud screams and moans were muffled as I buried my face into his neck and shoulder. I let go of the chains with my other hand to grip him tighter as Matt brought us to a stop. My fingers dug into his muscles and my body shook against him. Once we were stationary Matt grabbed my ass and lifted me, and then pushed me back down on his cock.

‘’FUCK YES, (y/n),’’ Matt moaned as he felt a splash. The sound of my moans, the feel of my skin, and my smell were so intoxicating to Matt as he slammed me down on him again and let out a growl as he felt his orgasm shoot out from the base of his balls and run through him. I lifted my face and we locked eyes for a second before my eyes went big as I sucked in a breath.

‘’Kiss me,’’ Matt said through clenched teeth knowing I was coming yet again. Matt wanted to scream too, because it was so incredible but he knew he couldn’t as my walls locked around him again. He shot a massive load into me, rope after rope, after rope. After holding it in all day, wanting me all day…it built up. I pushed my lips to his, our tongues immediately meeting. The kiss muffled most of my screams and moans but a few escaped into the quiet night. Neither of us cared at the very moment. Matt’s dick twitched at the last spray into my pussy, and I still lifted and rammed myself down on him two more times before I slumped onto him, breaking the kiss. Matt slid his arms around me and sat like that for five minutes, panting, trying to catch our breath. In the distance, we heard laughter, and Matt slowly slid his hands back down my back as I sat up straight again. He found the straps of my shirt and then pulled them up. I then pushed my arms into them and he let the straps rest on my shoulders. He pulled his still-hard dick out of my warm, wet, overflowing pussy, a low moan escaping him, not wanting to but having to pull out.

Matt looked over my shoulder and I turned my head as we heard low talking in the distance. A couple were walking on the side walk but I knew the couple couldn’t see us, and that we had the vantage point.. Clearly two lovers where out on a walk also trying to escape the heat. They were in the distance, but I could tell they were holding hands and very much into each other. I watched them disappear into a thick of trees and I turned back to Matt.

Matt smiled and gave me a half nod, ‘’they should try the swings,’’ he said and I burst out laughing. I pushed a hand between ourselves and pulled my panties back into place and then grabbed the chains and weakly pulled myself up and climbed off of Matt. As my feet hit the ground, I tried to stand, but my legs buckled and Matt grabbed me to stop me from falling.

‘’I’m fucking spent,’’ I said with laugh

‘’That was…something else. Fucking amazing,’’ Matt said through his own laugh

‘’You’re a mess,’’ I said

‘’So are you,’’ Matt said with a laugh. We were both covered in sweat with our combination of cum and juices sticking to our skin, our hair matted but looking so satisfied and elated.

I looked down and saw some of Matt’ cum running down my leg. I smiled and took my index finger and ran it up the zigzag line it had formed, collecting it. I then lifted my finger to my mouth and licked it off.

Matt smiled, ‘’you're so fucking hot,’’ he said, noting I didn’t do that for him, I did it for myself. I wanted to taste him, savor him.

I let my eyes fall back on Matt as I swallowed and smiled. ‘’I can clean you up,’’ I said

‘’Not this time. You can hardly stand... we’ll take a quick shower when we get home,’’ Matt said and somewhere along the line, Matt had put his dick away and fixed his shorts because he pulled me down onto his lap.

‘’Do you feel better?’’ I asked Matt softly

‘’You have no idea. Thank you, baby. I love you so much,’’ Matt said and gave me a kiss.

‘’Good,’’ I said and ran my fingertips along his stubbly jaw, ‘’I love you too.’’

‘’I’ll piggy back you home,’’ Matt said and smiled to himself because he had the best little vixen saint and I was the remedy he needed. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! You are very much appreciated. <3

For the OC Version babies! The heat was unbearable. The Sturniolo family went to The Cape for the summer, with girlfriends and significant others tagging along. The house wasn’t huge and some had to share sleeping spaces and a few even set up camp in the living room. They were all tight-knit and everyone got along like a house on fire, so it wasn’t a problem but lack of sleep on the hot, sweltering nights was another story. With severe heatwaves came some complications like; power outages and malfunctioning air conditioners. It was the kind of heat that pressed against one's skin. Where you wanted to fan yourself down but all that did was move the hot air around. The hot, humid breeze did nothing but tease with the promise of relief.

‘’The fucking weather!’’ Matt groaned. This was supposed to be a great trip for us…for you,’’ he said looking disappointed

‘’Well,’’ Eden said and leaned forward to give him a kiss, ‘’if it’s any conciliation, I’m having a great time.’’

‘’You would in this heat,’’ Matt said through a laugh, ‘’you’re the only one here that will get through this unscathed. You’re the only one here that actually enjoys the heat, which makes me wonder what the fuck is wrong with you. How come you’re so perfect and not even the heat will get you?’’

Eden laughed, ‘’so…I’ve meant to tell you a long time ago, but there was never really a perfect time to do so, but I’m from this little planet called -’’ Eden was saying when Matt let out a laugh

‘’Shut up,’’ he said and pushed his lips to hers. He knew with out a doubt that she was the one he wanted to marry, have kids with and spend the rest of his life with. She loved his family as much as they loved her and she was always ready and willing to help… and he loved that she was definitely up for anything. She made everything fun and exciting. He loved that she came across as little saint to everyone else, but he knew she was definitely a little devil when it came to fucking. She adored and loved Matt, and never a day went by that she didn’t feel lucky and blessed to have Matt and his family in her life.

Matt sighed as he and Eden lay next to each other on the blow-up mattress. The heat really was relentless and stifling. Every time they moved, it felt like the sheets were clinging to their bodies. A fan was blowing cool air but it was as helpful, and equivalent to puckering one’s lips up and blowing air out of them. It was so hot, that they were all struggling to sleep. Eden sensed Matt was not only frustrated by the heat but also that with so many people in a house sharing, they couldn’t do much in the sex department, though they certainly found ways. Matt and Eden said they would sleep in the living room on a blow-up mattress while Chris and his girlfriend, shared the couch.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Eden whispered when Matt once again let out a groan

‘’It’s like we’re in a desert or something,’’ Matt mumbled and sat up. He reached for a glass of water on a nearby side table and made some kind of sound and then looked at Eden with horror. ‘’The fucking ice has melted in the glass already,’’ he said, his voice laced with disbelief. It concerned her because Matt was generally calm but he was definitely agitated by the heat.

Eden lay for a moment, staring at the ceiling wondering how she could help him. Her eyes swung from one end of the ceiling to the other, then back again. She suddenly sat up, finding the remedy to maybe both the heat and lack of sex problem…even if it was only a short reprieve. She slid off the mattress then padded to his side and put her hand out, palms up.

‘’Come on,’’ she whispered

‘’You two might as well just talk, and not whisper,’’ Chris said

‘’Shut up,’’ Matt said loudly through a laugh

‘’Fuck off,’’ Chris replied with a chuckle

‘’Sorry, Chris,’’ Eden said with a giggle. They never ceased to make her laugh with their friendly banter.

‘’Nah Edie, I mean it’s so hot, I can’t sleep anyway,’’ Chris said and his girlfriend let out a ‘mhm’ in agreement.

Matt put his hand in Edens and she pulled him up. ‘’Where are we going?’’ he asked, his movements were slower than Eden’s in the heat.

‘’A walk,’’ Eden said as she led him to the kitchen. She first opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of ice cold water then handed it to Matt as he looked at the time on the microwave, it’s glowing green telling him it was two in the morning. He sighed thinking it was a long way from morning but still the weather on the news had said it would be an equally hot day if not hotter. Eden hesitated to close the fridge door because the cool air felt so good against her hot skin. She was wearing an old t-shirt Matt had given her and they took the scissors to it, cutting the sleeves off and widening the neck area for her to be cooler. She really didn’t mind the heat but this? This was something else. She felt for everyone else because if she was feeling it, they must have been suffering.

They slipped out the door quietly into the night, ‘’Should I put a t shirt on?’’ Matt asked

‘’Show me one man who has a shirt on in this weather and I’ll give him a thousand dollars,’’ Eden said

‘’Does that include me and does it still stand until we get back?’’ Matt asked

Eden giggled and smacked his tight ass, ‘’always,’’ she said

‘’Where are we going?’’ Matt asked and slipped his hand into Eden’s. Their fingers intertwined and he lifted their hands and then gave her hand a kiss. ‘’Thanks for this, it is slightly better out here.’’

She smiled at Matt, ‘’the park,’’ Eden said simply

The moon was full and illuminated the way for them. It was quiet but for the water lapping to the shore. The roads were dead and the park deserted. People had either passed out from the heat or were sitting in front of fans hoping to cool down. The park was relatively close to the house, but hidden and nestled amongst trees. Eden led Matt to the swings and Matt sat on one while she sat on the other, right next to him. She started swinging softly while Matt only moved back and forth slightly keeping his feet on the ground. He took a sip of water and offered Eden some, but she declined, with a shake of her head and a warm smile.

‘’Matt? Remember that park we went to at Evan’s house?’’ Eden asked and stopped the swing, then got off, ‘’you know, when he had that party?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Matt said as he put the bottle of water on the ground, and then it hit him. His eyes went big and a smile formed on his face. How could he have forgotten that?

‘’Yeah?’’ she asked and bit her bottom lip

‘’Fuck yes. Hop on,’’ Matt said and she squealed softly with excitement as she grabbed the chains and lifted herself onto Matt’s lap, sliding her legs over his as she sat down, her legs handing over his on the side of the swing. Matt smiled because the last time they had fumbled a lot trying to work out how to do it but now they seemed to have mastered it. Well…they were going to find out.

‘’How did I get so lucky?’’ Matt asked her softly

Eden smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek and tilted his face up a fraction, ‘’I’m the lucky one,’’ Eden whispered and lightly brushed her lips against his.

Her hand slid down his neck, his chest, and then her fingers danced above the shorts elastic as Matt deepened the kiss. It was never pedestrian. His kisses always made her feel desired and wanted. She got drunk on their kisses. Matt moaned into the kiss and Eden felt his hands by hers. She knew he was getting impatient so she moved her hand and brought it to her pussy and moved her panties to the side while he pushed his shorts down as much as he could. The small piece of material was wet already and she felt Matt’s cock, now free of his shorts, as hard as a rock. That alone sent every nerve in her body tingling. His hands found the thin straps of the sleep shirt and he pushed them down, over her shoulders. Eden smiled into the kiss and pulled her arms out of the straps, letting the material fall softly around her middle. Matt broke the kiss, eager to get a nipple into his hungry mouth. She moaned, dropping her head back, and arched her back, pushing her titties forward so Matt could take in more. He was a genius with his tongue, no matter where he placed it on her body. Eden bit her bottom lip and slid her hand between them and closed her hand around Matt’s thick shaft. She smiled wickedly because his pre-cum had run down his shaft, leaving him slick. He sucked in a breath from the touch to his painfully erect dick but it felt so fucking good. Eden lifted herself, aimed his dick at her tight little entrance and then slid onto his dick agonizingly slowly, savoring every inch going in. Both Eden and Matt groaned lowly with simultaneous pleasure.

‘’Oh god Eden,’’ Matt moaned, ‘’you have no idea how good that feels.’’

‘’Oh, but I do,’’ Eden said with a grin and licked her hand of the pre-cum, making Matt swear under his breath. ‘’Start swinging. We don’t want to be caught,’’ she purred

‘’I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day’’ Matt said curling his hands around the chains,’’this won’t take long.’’

Eden smiled as she also gripped the chains, the cool metal making her more aroused, ‘’me too, babe.’’

Matt laughed and pushed them back with his legs and then let them fall forward as he tucked his legs back. He was sure going to have one hell of a workout keeping the swing in motion, but she knew without a doubt that he could handle it. They were soon gliding through the air, back and forth. Every time they went back, Eden would slide down his dick and when they got to the furthest point, having to go back down, she would push down on him as forces of nature and gravity worked. Eden moaned loudly with sheer pleasure every time that happened and Matt groaned feeling himself deep inside of her tight, wet pussy. When they went back down, Eden was lifted up, his dick sliding halfway out, exposing him to the cooler air, then he would slip back into her hot pussy. The contrast of heat and cool air in motion sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, never feeling anything like it. Matt loved everything – the way they had to be so close, the way they molded into each other, the fact that they had to rely upon and trust each other. The tightness around his hard throbbing cock, the way her hair flew behind her and fanned when they went up, and then around her when they went back down and he loved the look on her face with her breasts firm in front of him. He wanted to touch them, grab them but he couldn’t. Fuck! It was the most blissful torture ever. The deep penetration on the up was something different than normal penetration. It was a force that could only be achieved in their current position and situation.

Matt could tell she was close as her pussy started fluttering his cock, her body got tense and she dropped her head. ‘’Ooh, Matt…shit, Matt…’’ Eden said with urgency as she felt her muscles tightening, the rush coursing through her and pure ecstasy shoot over her body, and she let her one hand go from the chains, putting it around Matt’s shoulders. She pushed her face into the side of his neck as her walls clasped around Matt like a vice grip. The sheer strength around him set him on the very edge. Eden’s loud scream’s and moans were muffled as she buried her face into his neck and shoulder. She let go of the chains with her other hand to grip onto him tighter looking for more purchase, as Matt brought them to a stop. Her fingers dug into his muscles and her body shook against him. Once they were stationary Matt grabbed Eden’s ass and lifted her, then pushed her back down on his cock.

‘’FUCK YES, EDEN,’’ Matt moaned and he felt a wetness on his skin. The sound of Edens moans, the feel of her skin, her smell was so intoxicating to Matt as he slammed her down on him again and let out a growl as he felt his orgasm shoot out from the base of his balls and run through him. Eden lifted her face and they locked eyes for a second, before her eyes went big and she sucked in a breath.

‘’Kiss me,’’ Matt said through clenched teeth knowing she was coming yet again. Matt wanted to scream as loud as Eden because it was incredible but he knew he couldn’t as her walls locked around him again. He shot a massive load into Eden, rope after rope, after rope. After having to hold it in all day, wanting her all day….it built up. Eden pushed her lips to his, their tongues immediately meeting. The kiss muffled most of her screams and moans but a few escaped into the quiet night. Neither cared at the very moment. Matt’s dick twitched at the last spray into her pussy, and Eden still rammed herself down onto him two more times before she slumped onto him, breaking the kiss. Matt slid his arms around her and they sat like that for five minutes, panting, trying to catch their breath. In the distance they heard laughter, and Matt slowly slid his hands back down Eden’s back as she sat up straight again. He found the straps of her shirt and then pulled them up, Eden pushing her arms into them. He then let the straps rest on her shoulders and pulled out of her warm, wet, over-flowing pussy, letting out a groan not wanting to leave the warm confines of her tight pussy, but having to.

Matt looked over Eden’s shoulder and she turned her head as they heard low talking in the distance. A couple was walking on the sidewalk across the road but they knew the couple couldn’t see them, and that they had the vantage point. Clearly two lovers where out on a walk also trying to escape the heat. They were in the distance, but Eden could tell they were holding hands and very much into each other. They watched them disappear into a thick of trees and Eden turned back to Matt.

Matt smiled and gave her a half nod, ‘’they should try the swings,’’ he said and Eden burst out laughing. She pushed a hand between them and pulled her panties back into place and then grabbed the chains and weakly pulled herself up and climbed off of Matt. As her feet hit the ground, she tried to stand, but her legs buckled and Matt grabbed her to stop her falling.

‘’I’m fucking spent,’’ Eden said with laugh

‘’That was…something else. Fucking amazing’’ Matt said through his own laugh

‘’You’re a mess,’’ she said

‘’So are you,’’ Matt said with a laugh. They were both covered in sweat with a combination of their cum and juices sticking to them, their hair matted but looking so satisfied and elated.

She looked down and saw some of Matt’s cum running down her leg. She smiled and took her index finger and ran it up the zigzag line it had formed, collecting it. She then lifted her finger to her mouth and licked it off.

Matt smiled, ‘’your so fucking hot,’’ he said, noting she didn’t do that for him, she did it for herself. She wanted to taste him, to savour him.

Eden let her eyes fall back on Matt as she swallowed and smiled. ‘’I can clean you up,’’ she said

‘’Not this time. You can hardly stand, we’ll take a quick shower when we get home,’’ Matt said and somewhere along the line, Matt had put his dick away and fixed his shots because he pulled her down onto his lap.

‘’Do you feel better?’’ Eden asked Matt softly

‘’You have no idea. Thank you,baby. I love you so much’’ Matt said and gave her a kiss.

‘’Good,’’ Eden said and ran her fingertips along his stubbly jaw, ‘’I love you too’’.

‘’I’ll piggy back you home,’’ Matt said and smiled to himself because he had the best little vixen saint and she was the remedy he needed.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! YOU ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED <3

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XVII)

Chapter 17: Looking for Help

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Chapter 18 will be the beginning of things really getting better!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1855

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Well…. That… is a lot.”

“You can phrase it like that, yeah…”

“So… you’ve finally told her you loved her. At least you don’t have that to weight on your chest anymore.”

“The fact that I was still rejected after that confession kind of balances out the relief, though.”

“Yeah… you’ve got a point…”

Andrew heaved a sigh, closed his eyes as he let himself fall back fully in his chair. He hadn’t slept after that conversation with you. Or well, ‘conversation’ didn’t quite fit what had happened; it was rather a fight.

He had waited for an early but somewhat decent hour in the morning to call Sam, and ask if he could come buy. It was 8:13, and he was sipping on a black coffee, sitting at the table with him now. Daphne was taking a shower. Andrew had dropped by a bakery to get some pastries for breakfast, knowing he was depriving his friends from some well-deserved rest, but if Sam had already eaten, Andrew had not taken a single bite.

He nervously rubbed his palms, until the skin was painful and red, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What are you going to do now?” Sam asked after a rather long silence.

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“What could I do? She doesn’t want me… All I can do is try to find a way to move on. Christ… how do you move on from that?”

“Getting awfully drunk sounds like a reasonable beginning,” Sam smiled.

“Well, perhaps, but not at 8 am,” Daphne chuckled, finally walking into the kitchen, her hair still wet from her shower.

She hugged Andrew tight.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“It’s alright.”

“I don’t have a clue what’s going on in her head…”

“Daphne… don’t. Please, don’t…”

She pulled away, got herself some coffee as well, before joining the two men around the wooden table.

“The way I see things… she’s freaking out. She’s freaking out and rejecting her feelings.”

“Daphne…”

“It makes no fucking sense!”

“It makes perfect sense. She doesn’t see me like that. It was just sex for her, and it wasn’t for me, and I was a damn fool. There’s nothing more to say about that.”

“There’s a lot more to say about that. The way she talked about it… she was just afraid…”

“Please…”

Andrew buried his face in his hands. He heard Sam gently shushing Daphne when she started speaking again.

“Come on, now! Tonight, we’re getting brilliantly drunk you and I!” Sam promised his friend.

“Good idea,” Andrew nodded.

A heavy silence followed.

“Andy… I know that this is not the time but… about the wedding…”

“Hmm?” Andrew finally looked up at his friends again.

“You… you’re still going to come, right?”

Andrew frowned hard.

“Of course, I’m coming. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because Y/N is my maid of honour,” Daphne let out in a breath.

“Oh… I hadn’t thought about that,” Andrew admitted.

But he quickly shook himself.

“Of course, I’ll come. I’m the best man! Don’t worry about that.”

“I… I understand that you won’t want to see her, and we can totally avoid the two of you being in the same room while we’re planning the wedding, but during the ceremony and everything…”

“Guys, don’t worry. I’m an adult, I can handle seeing my ex for a day.”

Andrew blinked and frowned.

“Technically, she’s not even my ex, we weren’t together, as she enjoyed reminding me last night…”

“You promise you’ll come, right?”

“Sam, of course, I’ll come. Don’t worry. It’s your wedding, you don’t have to worry about me and my stupid broken heart. I’ll be there, and I’ll just… behave politely towards Y/N. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway, the wedding is in seven weeks, she’ll probably bring someone…”

The doorbell rang, and Daphne got up to answer the door, while Sam was patting Andrew’s shoulder.

He was attempting to guide the conversation back to something a little more joyful when the sound of someone crying reached the kitchen. The two men looked at each other with a frown.

“Daphne? You’re alright?” Sam called, standing in a hurry, Andrew following suit.

But it wasn’t Daphne who was crying. Sobbing, actually.

She was holding you in her arms. You were shaking with sobs, you seemed about to fall, and crumble to the ground…

Andrew felt tears rising to his eyes at the sight, but he quickly blinked them away. It was about the only movement he could summon though. He was too stunned to move another muscle, remaining frozen in his friends’ hallway.

His first reaction was to want to run to you, hold you in his arms until you would stop crying. Were you hurt? Why…? What was going on?

But then he heard your whisper…

“I’ve fucked up… Daphne, I’ve fucked up so bad… I’ve fucked up everything with Andy…”

To hear his name acted like a punch in the guts, knocking all the air out of his lungs. His brain started to properly function again, and puzzlement slowly replaced worry.

You were crying about last night?

“Andy…” Sam called as Andrew stormed through the hall to grab his coat and shoes.

You finally noticed that he was there, and remained frozen, staring at him with your puffy red eyes and cheeks stained with tears. He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t.

“Andy… Wait!”

But despite Sam’s protest, Andrew was out in the blink of an eye, hurrying out of the house and out of your life…

He didn’t stop before he had reached his car, hearing Sam run after him.

“Wait, Andy… I didn’t know she was going to drop by.”

“I know… I know… It’s alright.”

“Andrew…”

“I just… I can’t see her right now.”

“I understand. I just…”

“It’s alright, Sam. We’ll see each other tonight at the pub, okay?”

Sam reluctantly nodded, and Andrew hurried inside his car.

All he could do for now was trying to move on, move forward, always forward. He drove aimlessly around the countryside for a while, before finally going home.

Was he moving forward, or just running away?

On a scale from one to drunk, Andrew was hammered.

He reckoned that he hadn’t drunk that much since College… or no, scratch that. Since his first record. Yeah, he had had some nice party time during that period, a mix of testing his limits on the road and the buzzing excitement of a long list of first times.

Only, a few years had passed, and after that last whiskey, he wasn’t too sure if he could handle alcohol as well as he did back in the days…

Sam was laughing his arse off over something stupid, that Andrew had forgotten already, but he was giggling along anyway. The buzz of the liquor was making him dizzy, light-headed, with his cheeks on fire and his thoughts a mess.

God… it felt good to forget you for a moment.

The pub was full of life and laughter. A group had started drunkenly slurring through a few songs, but Andrew was hoping not to be recognized and asked to sing, he wasn’t in the mood. You were the only thing he could write about these days, singing reminded him of you…

It was fun, it was an easy and temporary fix to his heartbreak, but Andrew welcomed the momentary reprieve all the same.

That was until Sam became suddenly much paler than before, and pressed a hand over his mouth, choking on his laughter.

Andrew blinked, grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him as quickly as his wobbly legs could carry him to the bathroom.

Sam had barely knelt down in an empty stall that he was throwing up.

Andrew patted his back a couple of times, waited for his friend to calm down. He sat behind him, against the wall of the tiny bathroom. He didn’t care that the ground was dirty and highly unhygienic… for now he was pressing his temple against the cool tiling on the wall to counter the spinning of his head and the growing pain in his skull.

“You’re alright in there?” he called for Sam, looking at his friend still bent over the toilet.

Sam didn’t answer, merely threw up again.

“I’ll take that as a ‘not dead yet’,” Andrew answered in a fit of stupid giggles, and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he heard Sam shifting near him, and he forced his eyes open again, despite his exhaustion and the pain piercing his head.

“You’re okay?”

Sam finally crawled on all fours to join Andrew next to the row of sinks.

“Yeah, better,” he nodded, stumbling to his feet to wash his mouth. “Thanks, mate.”

Andrew merely gave him a thumbs up, before closing his eyes again.

Sam sat down next to his friend then, ignoring a newcomer who had just come in.

“Damn… I don’t think I’ve been this hammered since College,” Sam mumbled, while Andrew merely hummed in agreement. “Do you remember that party by the beach? Alex was fucking out of it, and then the cops arrived! We ran so fucking fast! I thought Alex was going to piss his pants, he was in pure panic!”

Andrew laughed at the memory.

“You tripped on a root and fell like a fucking child. Hands and knees all scrapped,” Andrew added, making Sam double-over with laughter.

“And you banged your head in at least five branches! I thought you’d get a concussion!”

“The red marks on my forehead the next day!”

The two men were laughing hysterically, sitting there on the ground, ignoring anyone else who would come in and throw them amused looks.

They remained there two more minutes without being disturbed. No one was coming in anymore. It seemed as though even the sound of conversations and music from the main room of the pub had quietened.

And there you were again, your picture against his closed eyelids. First the sight of you waking up by his side in the morning. Then the memory of your skin against his. Your voice. Your smile. You turning to look at him, and beaming with this grin of yours that was brighter than any star…

A tear rolled down his cheek and into his beard before he could notice.

“Christ… Sam… I love her so fucking much…”

He vaguely heard Sam shifting next to him, and he finally opened his eyes. A row of brown doors, on the opposite wall some sinks and some mirrors, and white cold tiling all over the walls. Urinals on the other side of the room.

Instead, he could see you lying in his bedsheets, your head thrown back against his pillow…

“I love her…”

That look of mischief in your eyes as you stole some fries from his plate…

“I’ve never loved anyone else the way I love her… so fucking much…”

Sam wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug while Andrew’s silent tears were turning into proper cries.

“It’s going to be okay, Andy… It’s gonna be alright.”

And Andrew knew it was just some stupid fucking lie…

[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Street Rat: Chaggie - Aladdin AU

STOP! THIEF!

Vaggie: *running theough the streets of Pride with a small mob on her tail, hood drawn, and mask up* Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Mobster Boss: I'm gonna sheer your clit off for stealing from me, you little cunt!

Vaggie: Oh, so I have time then! You'd have to find the fucking thing first! *scales the nearest building easily and starts running along rooftops*

Mobster Boss: Don't just fucking stand there! Get her!

Goons: *scramble to find a way up to the roof*

Vaggie: And like that, I'm in the clear- WHOA!!!! *dodges a swinging hammer aimed at her head and speeds the other direction* Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Goon 1: She's over here!

Vaggie: *parkour jumps onto the next building and starts shuffling down the wall when a hand reaches out and pulls her inside* Shit!

Angel: For fuck sakes, Vags! Get in here!

Goons: *look down to the alley below* Where'd she go?! Where'd she go?!

Goon 2: Uh.... that way! *starts running the opposite direction with the rest following*

Vaggie: *exhales heavily* Thanks, Angel.

Angel: Psh! Don't thank me. Thank the girls for letting me hold you in here.

Vaggie: *eye widens and she looks around the room at all the girls in various stages of undress with a blush* Uhhh..... Hello, ladies. Um... thank you for letting Angel help me out.

Girls: *huff and go about their business*

Angel: Yeah, they're not a fan of broke ass bitches and bastards.

Vaggie: I can see that.... Oh, by the way. Here. *plops a wad of Hellbucks into Angel's hand* That should cover the rest of what I owe you.

Angel: Daaaaaaamn, Vagina. You really risked your neck for this haul, didn't you?

Vaggie: Vaggie... *shrugs* Better in the hands of those who need it instead of some greedy mob boss who just uses it as a spicy fleshlight.

Angel: *thumbs through the wad of cash with a smirk* Awwww, yeah. Gotta love musky money~ Well, thanks for the "donation"! So, what other trouble are ya getting into these days, Vagina?

Vaggie: For fuck sakes, it's Vaggie and you know it.... and that's fucking disgusting. I'm just trying to stay alive on the streets. You know that.

Angel: Well, there's a big festival going on in the middle of town today! Lots of schmucks with loose change for easy pickins if you catch my drift.~

Vaggie: ....What's the festival for?

Angel: Eh. Some prince or something coming to try and sway the Princess into marrying him. Doubt it's gonna work.

Vaggie: *scoffs with a snort* Not if those demon goats have anything to say about it.

Meanwhile:

Charlie: I am NOT meeting with Prince Seviathan!

Lucifer: *sweating* Come on, sweetie. Just talk to him a little. He traveled all the way from Envy to see you.

Charlie: *huffs and crosses her arms* How could you expect me to even consider him as a possible suitor when he's such an arrogant idiot! He's a jerk to literally everyone, Dad!

Lucifer: Oh, I'm sure he's gotten better since his early teens, baby.

*trumpets herald Seviathan's approach*

Lucifer: Just..... try to talk to him. *glances at Razzle and Dazzle* And YOU TWO be on your best behavior!

Razzle & Dazzle: *hooves tuck behind their backs as they sit up at attention* Baaa!/Baaap!

Lucifer: Good! *sighs* I'll be downstairs to greet him. *leaves*

Charlie: *arms still crossed* ......You two didn't actually agree to that, right?

Razzle & Dazzle: *hold up one hoof each that has their toes crossed*

Charlie: Good boys!

[ericshoney]

Pregnant ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Having four brothers growing up was fun for you and having three younger ones to tease, mess with, teach and care for was always a joy to you.

You were three years older than your triplet brothers. Nick, Matt and Chris adore you, looking up to you a lot, along with Justin. They never got involved in your personal business unless it was making you unhappy.

The day you introduced them to your boyfriend at the time, the tables turned. The three fun filled boys turned serious, wanting nothing but the best for their big sister.

The day your boyfriend turned into your husband was even better. They had their worries that you, even being older than them, were still young for marriage, but knew you were happy.

Now is the day you tell them they are about to be uncles.

You had missed your months period and felt sick the past week, so instantly went and got some pregnancy tests, only for all of them to say positive. You first off went to the doctors to get checked as well, for them to also say you were expecting.

You were over the moon to find out you were pregnant. Your husband too. You then told your parents and Justin and now it was the triplets, who just so happen to be back in Boston.

"Hey Y/n!" Chris is the first to greet you as he, Nick and Matt walk into your family home.

"Hey guys." You replied, hugging each of your younger brothers.

"Mum said you had something to tell us." Nick said, as the trio stand around the kitchen.

"Yeah. Open this." You said.

You passed a box over, letting the three open it. Inside was lots of baby stuff and t-shirts with uncle on them. You watched as they opened it, their eyes going wide.

"We're gonna be uncles!" Matt exclaimed.

"Your pregnant!" Nick shouted.

"I am." You said with a big smile.

"Fuck yeah! I bet it's gonna be a boy!" Chris called.

"A girl is fine too." Matt said.

They smiled and hugged you again, instantly fighting about who the best uncle will be. Justin walked in, laughing slightly at the three.

"I see you told them." He said.

"Yeah, now they are arguing about who the best uncle will be." You replied.

"We all know it's gonna be me." He said, making you laugh.

You smiled and rubbed your stomach, knowing you had your brothers support no matter what.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 11 - Cover up the blank spots

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, nobody really having a great time.

Me again! Thanks for the wonderful response to last chapter. Bucky is still an idiot I’m sorry to say…but he’s getting there.

As always thank-you for the lovely reblogs and comments, it makes my day reading them!

As the door slammed loudly behind you, the group stood in silence looking at Bucky as he just stared back at the exit where you’d just been. The many sets of eyes on him seemed to snap him out of it, he snarled and turned to them.

“Well? We’re closed. Why are you all still here?”

The group blanched but glanced at each other. They seemed to be battling with obeying an order from their President but also wanting to speak up. Amber and the girls took that as their cue, grabbing their things and scattering out of the bar. Amber scowled at Bucky as she left, which he pointedly ignored.

Bucky continued to glare questioningly at the group before Steve finally cleared his throat and spoke, “I don’t think she did it, Buck”.

Steve crouched down and began to pick up the discarded notes you had flung at Bucky. He gathered them all into a pile and shuffled them against the bar to straighten them into a neat bundle.

“I don’t think she did either,” Nat spat as she pointed an accusatory, manicured finger at Bucky. “And that was really fucked up, reading her the riot act in front of everybody like that. At least confront her privately”.

There was a quiet murmur from the others, seemingly in agreement.

Bucky glowered at Nat, “Watch your tone, Romanoff” he warned. He didn’t like to pull rank but he didn’t like his authority being disrespected by members, either.

She held up her hands defensively, but her voice softened, “Okay – I’m sorry. I’m not trying to disrespect you here, but you always say we can speak freely, and that this isn’t a dictatorship. Right?”

He frowned but nodded reluctantly.

“Well…I don’t think she did it,” Nat continued. “I don’t think she’s so hard up for money that she needs to steal 170 bucks or whatever. I’ve seen her make that in tips on a big night! And even if she was stealing, she’s not dumb enough to take it all outta the register at once. And then leave it in her purse! She’s worked in bars for years, she knows receipts are checked against takings. She knows you count the cash every night and it would’ve immediately shown up”.

Bucky put one hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. His tone was still firm, but he looked visibly stressed, “So, what, she just happens to be carrying around a wad of bills that are about the same amount that we’re missing?”

Steve sighed. “I agree with Nat, she looked genuinely shocked to be accused. And she’s not stupid. If she was gonna steal I think she’d skim small amounts off the top so we don’t notice. And this,” he held up the cash, “I think she was telling the truth about it being her grandma’s money, its kinda musty and old, like it’s been stored somewhere a while, it doesn’t feel or smell like the rest of the bills in the register. It tracks that she found it in her stashed in her nanna’s house or whatever”.

“Old lady money,” Peter nodded sagely.

The others all looked at him for a second.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright…everybody out, now, except Steve and Sam”.

They followed his lead and dispersed as they mumbled their goodbyes, the thundering roar of motorcycles ringing out as they peeled out of the parking lot just moments later. Bucky could feel their disapproving gazes on him as they left, the guilt swimming in his stomach as he started to think about what he’d done. 

“Fuck…” muttered Bucky. He frowned and rubbed his temples with his thumb and little finger.

“Why’d you check her bag in the first place, man?” Sam asked, “clearly you had suspicions about her if you went through her stuff”.

Bucky frowned, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I wasn’t even thinking that the money was stolen…or that she would’ve stolen it…I just saw her purse in the office and…just sort of found myself picking it up without even really knowing why. And just as I was feeling like a total asshole and about to put it back, I saw the cash. And I saw red…I was so angry, so…hurt…that she could do something like that to me…to all of us when we’ve accepted her into the group…I didn’t really think I just-”

He winced, his head falling into his hands.

“Fuck”, was all he said.

“That was messed up,” Sam told him firmly.

“I know…fuck…I fucked up, bad”.

Steve clamped a hand onto his old friend’s back, giving him a reassuring pat. “Do you think part of the reason you had such a strong reaction is because you’re sleeping together, and when you thought she’d done that, it felt more personal?”

Bucky blanched, “wait, we’re not…”

“C’mon man, we’re not blind,” Sam chuckled.

Bucky looked guiltily between his two friends, immediately dropping the charade, “is it that obvious?”

Sam just grinned, “It wasn’t. But I saw you grab her ass earlier”.

Bucky groaned.

“You’re not that obvious. Mostly,” Steve explained matter-of-factly, “but I’ve seen the secret looks. The way you’re always touching her. The weird vibe the two of you have, with your little fights and what-not. There’s clear chemistry there. I don’t think the others have caught up yet, though”.

Bucky grimaced then rolled his eyes.

“You’re too damn good at your job…” he growled, but then softened as he considered Steve’s words.

“And yeah…I guess I felt…betrayed…when I thought she’d stolen. It was like she’d stolen from me. I just got so mad thinking about how she could be so sweet to my face but do that to me…but I shouldn’t have gone through her bag…I shouldn’t have yelled at her like that…in front of everyone…shouldn’t have been an asshole”.

Sam and Steve nodded in agreement.

He groaned, “fuck. What a fucking mess. What’s going on? I’m falling apart here…this isn’t like me at all”.

Steve and Sam shared a heavy look.

“You need to fix it,” Steve told him.

“I don’t know if I can…I really hurt her”.

“You need to try, at least. And you owe her a grovelling apology”, said Sam.

“Yeah. She’s a nice gal. And she’s also the best bartender we got,” Steve advised pragmatically as he pulled out his phone and began tapping away at it.

“And we need to figure out what happened to that money,” Sam added.

“Maybe we did fuck up the numbers somehow and we weren’t light? But I checked…so did Steve-,” Bucky pondered.

Steve suddenly started to wave his phone in the air.

“Mm. Well, just call me Poirot I guess…” he said without looking up from his screen.

Bucky and Sam exchanged a puzzled look before leaning over to see what Steve was looking at.

He was logged into the bar’s Instagram page, flicking through the stories that customers had tagged the bar in that night. Between the drunken selfies and silly filters, Steve stopped on a video of the bachelor party from earlier – the men singing tunelessly and belly laughing as they swayed in front of the bar, their knees buckling as they leaned against it.

“Drunk guys. So what? What am I looking at here?” Bucky muttered.

Steve held his finger on the screen as Sam and Bucky leaned closer. Behind the partygoers, clear as day, the cameraperson had inadvertently caught Tom the bartender quite literally with his hand in the register – quickly shovelling a wad of bills into his pocket before turning to pick up some discarded glasses. It was fast, but unmistakeable.

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides.

“That sonofa…”

*

You had managed to drive home without crashing the car, which was no mean feat considering what a mess your head was currently in. But you were also weirdly numb, driving almost on autopilot as muscle memory got you back home.

You were humiliated. Embarrassed. Angry. Devastated. You felt too many things to count, your emotions so overwhelming that you’d short circuited. You couldn’t believe Bucky would do that to you, in front of everyone, that he thought so little of you that he assumed you were a thief – even digging through your private things without a moment’s hesitation.

At least, thank God, you hadn’t already shared your true feelings for him. How stupid you were! You were gearing yourself for your big movie moment while he’d written you off as a lying crook! You felt ashamed you’d allowed yourself to be so caught up in him, to let your body be enjoyed by a man who clearly had so little respect for you. You must’ve been an easy mark for him, the stupid temp bartender who was so easily bedded with a few nice words.

You trudged inside, methodically changing into your pyjamas and getting ready for bed. You kept replaying the MC’s pitying eyes in your head over and over, screwing up your face as you re-lived in the embarrassment in real time. You could see the rage on Bucky’s face, the face of the intimidating MC President, not the tender man who kissed your forehead when he thought you’d fallen asleep on the couch.

Tomorrow, you would allow yourself exactly one day to wallow: a day of take-out, crying and bad movies. And then that would be it. After tomorrow you’d get going again. You’d drop off Granny’s donation to the shelter (well…your donation now). You’d finish the DIY. Fix the damn fence. You’d call the realtor and get the house valued, get it on the market and start taking viewings. You’d start making plans for your next move, call up some old job leads, start looking at apartment listings in new cities. Or maybe you’d take a chunk of the money from the house sale and go on a fancy ass vacation like Granny would’ve wanted.

As you get into bed, you close your eyes and visualise a brief fantasy…

…boarding everything up and leaving early in the morning, zipping away in Sally to your next adventure as you look back wistfully at the house. Mere seconds later, Bucky turns up to your door, flowers in hand, when he’s learned the truth about the money. He falls to his knees as he realises you’re gone forever, he’s too late! Sobbing and wailing, crying out your name as it begins to pour with rain and-

Okay. Maybe a little dramatic. But it was your fantasy.

A loud knock at the door tears you from your thoughts. You frown, having a good idea who it might be…

“Sugar…open up, it’s me,” Bucky calls through your door, his tone sheepish and contrite. “Please…”

Part of you is tempted to stay in bed and let him stew, but you’re unable to contain how angry you feel, so you stomp down the stairs and swing open the front door.

He looks surprised, then relieved, that you actually answered. Standing on the doorstep in his kutte, he somehow appears drastically more tired and weary than he did just an hour ago, there’s an expression anguish on his face you’ve never seen before – and the beginnings of bags tease under his wide eyes.

No flowers though.

“Sugar…thank god…look, I’m so sorry, I fucked up, I really fucked up…”, he babbles as he reaches for you, “I know it wasn’t you. It was Tom. We’re dealing with him now. Oh Jesus, Sug, I messed up, I don’t know what I was thinking…I shouldn’t have touched your bag. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have accused you…”

Part of your resolve wobbles at his direct display of vulnerability. This is what you wanted, an apology, vindication, and humility.

But it’s all too fresh. And your pain is so raw.

 You step away from him, and he visibly wilts. You are unmoved.

“Save it,” you spit.

He pales but stays quiet.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear any of it. Just like you didn’t want to hear it at the bar. You said everything you needed to back there. And of course it was Tom, only an idiot couldn’t see that,” you sneer angrily. “Now, get the fuck away from my property, or I’ll call the police”.

You go to slam the door, pausing at the last second as you meet his gaze.

“I just…I can’t believe you’d think that of me,” you tell him, your voice cracking slightly, “that you would think…that I’d do that to you”.

He tries to speak but the door slams in his face, and you’re grateful your tears wait until you get upstairs before they shed. You hear a small thud and his motorcycle roaring to life just a few moments later.

You sigh, picking up your phone. You scroll through to messages and bring up the one from Peter you received earlier.

As you compose a response, an envelope has been slid under your front door. It lays on the doormat at an angle. $175 sits inside, along with your final paycheck and tips. Scribbled on the front reads a single phrase.

I’m sorry.

*