#once they are cleared though... watch out

[teaboot]

How do you accommodate for face blindness when you need to tell if someone is the same person for work? I know your previous post listed what you pay attention to, but maybe you have any further tips?

I usually only remember people’s faces after I’ve talked to them several times and made a personal connection, and every time my ID gets checked I have to fight the subconscious “how will they know I’m actually me?”

I’d love to get better at telling when I’ve already seen someone, because as it is, watching movies and meeting with acquaintances in crowded places are always a journey…

Hair is a good one assuming the person in question doesn't change their haircut often. Another one I like is “flaws” (natural human variations) like wrinkles, jowls, acne, scarring, moles, crooked teeth, cysts, Balt spot shapes, fingernail shapes, swollen or discoloured or twisted ankles, unusual gait, large superorbital ridge, cowlicks, and odd hairline.

If I can find ONE of these things that’s great. If I can find TWO then I’m about 80% certain, if I can find three or- even BETTER, a tattoo or unusual piercing, defect, or birthmark- then I’m 100%.

I’m not COMPLETELY face blind- I do art, I can literally SEE faces- and I can REMEMBER THEM after maybe like. 10 meetings? Depending on how distinctive they are. If there’s something truly unique to pick up on, it may be less. But everyone’s faces all just mostly kinda look the same? Nose is always in the same place, eyes, chin, cheeks, ears. A face is a face. Lines happen mostly the same way, hair happens mostly the same way. The only people I can remember IMMEDIATELY AND FOREVER are people with- again- visible scarring, birthmarks, or tattoos. Those stick.

Ooh, but also!! Disabilities are… helpful. In a weird way. Because you may change your clothes or your hair or your makeup drastically, but most people only have one or two canes, one or two pairs of glasses, MAYBE two wheelchairs (everyone I’ve met with a wheelchair has only one, though) and if they have a prosthetic, even with long pants and a flawless gait, often times the fabric will lay slightly different over the joints, or they’ll be slightly stiff. Any kind of disability aid makes people soooooo much easier to recognize.

On top of that, people with a signature jacket, jewelry they wear every day like a ring or necklace, SHOES. Oh my god shoes are so useful. More with dudes, but people often have 1-2 favourite pairs that they wear most frequently and if I’m uncertain I’ll check what shoes they have.

Another thing is like. I thought two people wee the same person- More than once actually, but this one specific time- and didnt know otherwise till I saw them in a room together and their differences were clear. Then I just compared the two until enough distinctive differences stood out to know them later. Havent mixed them up since.

And shit, man- this is going to be bad but while I’m talking about it, I’ve recently learned I am ABYSMAL and differentiating between races. Which. I wouldn’t NEED unless I wasn’t a security guard and didn't sometimes need to describe a person.

White people are -usually- p easy. If they’re pale and have a pointy nose I can say Caucasian and be correct like 90% of the time out here. Better depending on how they dress because we dress… the way we do. Sometimes.

Black people. Darker skin, rounder features, usually dark brown or black hair, lots of variation in hairstyle (omg coloured braiiiiiiids, a girl in my college class had like hot pink added to her hair for a couple weeks and it was so helpful, by the time they were out I KNEW HER) usually softer edges around the nose and lips.

but EVERYONE ELSE. EVERYONE ELSE IS A BLUR. LIKE HOW TF DO YOU LOOK AT A GUY AND BE LIKE “oh he’s East Indian” “oh he’s aboriginal” “oh he’s a tanned white dude” HOW CAN YOU JUST KNOW WITHOUT ASKING. HOW. HOW HOW HOW

And it’s the WORST because sometimes I have to FIND PEOPLE and they’ll be like “50 year old south Asian male in a white sweatshirt average build average height wearing flip flops” and I’ll be like GOTCHU is this him? And my coworker will be like “for the ninth time that is a fully Caucasian man and he looks 30”

I ID race the way non-car people describe cars like “uhhhh it’s blue it has a round logo and uhhhhhhh i think it had a baby on board sign? Idk it was round” and it’s a cobalt blue 2015 Dodge Grand Caravan license plate 5X5-X5X or some shit, Christ alive

it has become embarrassing and I needed to confess because Jesus hell it’s bad

[les4elliewilliams]

❝SAVE YOUR TEARS.❞ ― 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝚰𝚰, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.

PLAYER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER ─ ALWAYS PLAY THE PLAYER.

❝YEAH, I BROKE YOUR HEART LIKE SOMEONE DID TO MINE, AND NOW YOU WON’T LOVE ME FOR A SECOND TIME❞

ᝰ.ᐟ⌞SUMMARY⌝ ﹕ A year after that devastating summer, Ellie is stunned to see you again—this time at a summer camp where you’re both working. The girl who once led her on and then disappeared without a trace is back, but Ellie’s no longer the naive girl you once played. Still aching from the way you broke her heart, Ellie is filled with a desire for revenge. She wants to make you feel the same confusion and hurt she felt. She’s ready to pull you into the same emotional game she was trapped in, to finally get her payback. But as she carefully lays her plans, Ellie finds herself in uncharted territory. She’s never been one for revenge, and now that the opportunity is in front of her, she begins to question if it will really give her the closure she craves—or if it will leave her with something far worse. Is revenge really worth it, or will Ellie learn the hard way that some wounds can’t be healed by hurting the person who caused them?

✶.ᐟ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕4.1k words⨾ 18+ CONTENT⨾ no use of y/n⨾ cunnilingus (𝑒!receiving)⨾ use of alcohol⨾ reader being down bad⨾ angst⨾ sub/loser/delusional!ellie (enjoy it while you can.)

.ᐟ.ᐟ⌞AUTHOR’S NOTE⌝ ﹕oh! it’s been a minute, huh? anyway, my babies are back. finally. just using this author’s note to let you all know that the girl who inspired this (yes, because this shit is basically half true, i was just venting like a total loser this whole time) is now dating a guy! insane. truly wild times… sigh. anywhore, enjoy the chapter──proofread by @sapphichotmess !!

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ catch up, will ya? •｡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 ⋆ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ⋆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ⋆ 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 ⋆ 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞ˎˊ˗

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

The night had been perfect, and so was Natalie. She had gone all out, picking you up in her Porsche, jasmine scent clinging to her glowing skin. The satin black dress hugged every inch of the mature woman perfectly, and you found yourself practically salivating at the way her tits threatened to spill from the shiny fabric. You felt disgusting, but you knew she wore it for a reason—so, was it entirely your fault for behaving like a caged animal that hadn’t seen a woman in ages? Or maybe you were just starting to behave like a man and that thought horrified you.

At dinner, she ordered for you without hesitation, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how to give you the night of your life, and that alone made you want to eat her out from under the table. She poured expensive champagne into your glass, watching you through her lash extensions as you took your first sip. 

The flickering candlelight did little to soften her features, no hint of platonic warmth lay in her eyes, only the kind of focus of someone who had their agenda clear for the rest of the night. It didn’t take a genius, to be fair. You could tell by the placement of her hand, her fingers claiming territory beneath the tablecloth, her thumb tracing languid orbits onto your skin. You knew exactly what awaited you once you were away from all the prying eyes and you didn’t mind it one bit.  

The entire drive back to your apartment, her hand rested high on your inner thigh, squeezing it ever so slightly every time you giggled, flustered like some pathetic schoolgirl crushing on her way too attractive teacher. 

Natalie was nearly twice your age, though she barely looked it—breathtakingly gorgeous, long, sleek black hair always flawless, her eyes so strikingly grey they looked like glaciers in the passing streetlights. She could make anyone weak in the knees, and then walk away gracefully in her Louis Vuitton heels without ever looking back. Even you’d let her step on you and thank her for the honour.

She had confided in you before, late nights spent in relentless complaints that you listened to because you wanted to, and every time she shared her struggles, you couldn’t help but wonder how any man could be so fucking stupid. You already knew from experience that men like him were nothing but brainless little puppies; her husband, though, was some uglier breed. How could he let all that slip through his useless fingers? 

Then again, maybe she was simply too much for him. You weren’t even surprised. Men had a habit of being handed treasures only to let them collect dust, treating women like nothing more than trophies. It was always the ugly ones with nothing to offer but a nonexistent ego and an insatiable need to be worshiped.

You weren’t even sure how things had started between you and Natalie. Maybe it was that one long night after babysitting her son, when, after a few glasses of wine, you’d playfully told her that you’d never considered sleeping with someone nearly your mom’s age before. She had only laughed, feeling a little too flattered. That’s when your nights started looking a little different—fucking her like no man ever had, legs locked tightly around your head, making her writhe like never before.

Once back at your apartment, the door had barely clicked shut before her lips urgently smudged her red lipstick across your neck. Her hands wandered like lost guests, except they weren’t lost at all, and knew exactly where they wanted to go, pushing the strap of your dress down with her nails. The scent of jasmine perfume still clung to her, mixing with the faintest trace of wine on her breath as she pressed against you from behind, hips glued to your ass.

“Missed this,” she whispered into your ear, insistent fingers already working to lift the hem of your dress. “Missed you.”

As if she hadn’t been over just days ago, bent over your kitchen counter like a whore, tits smashed against cold marble, mumbling something about you getting her pregnant while you split her open with the strap-on she had practically forced into your hands. Red claws carved love notes down your back as you fucked her dumb, her nectar making a mess of your floor. And now, she was back at it, all needy and impatient, grinding against you like she couldn’t stand the thin fabric keeping your bodies apart.

The scrape of her nails marked your skin from shoulder to forearm, raising tiny bumps. Simultaneously, her other hand ghosted over your ribs before her palm settled to mold itself against your breast, kneading it gently. Your glossed lips quivered slightly as you sighed, your head tipping to the side, silently urging her further, her fat tits pressing into your back. She was just tall enough to make you feel caged in, but never enough to make you back down.

Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, “Gonna treat you so good tonight, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

She tucked your hair over one shoulder, her eyes lingering on the blooming red stains she had painted across your skin, admiring her handiwork under the soft lights of the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you go get the toy I got you, hm?” she suggested, her lips pressing a lingering kiss over the very spot she knew would make you melt into her further. 

Your stomach tightened at her words, heat pooling low in your poor cunt. You let out a breathy chuckle, pushing your ass back into her, grinning when she subtly ground against it.

“Now, that’s a good idea.”

Her wine-flavored breath brushed against your cheek while she laughed against you, urging your ass into her. “I had a feeling you’d go along with it.” Her red nails pinched at the soft fabric clinging to your hips, tugging teasingly. “Will you let me wear it this time?”

You snorted lightly, grinning over your shoulder. “You wish.”

“Bet I can change that real quick.”

You loved that about her—how she always tried to take control, even when the battle was already lost. It was cute watching her push and tease, pretending she had the upper hand when you both knew better. 

But you let her play the game anyway, just to see how long she’d last.

Delicate hands slid back up, groping both your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress so neither felt neglected. Natalie pulled your aching buds between her fingers just enough to make you suck in a breath. 

“Love the way this dress looks on you.” Her lips found the curve of your exposed shoulder, trailing open-mouthed kisses against salty skin. She had you melting right under her fingertips and she hadn’t even come near your cunt yet. Funny how milfs work. “But it’d look even better on the floor, don’t you think?”

“You’re gonna look even better bent over this counter, don’t you think?” You managed to fire back smoothly despite the subtle catch in your throat, almost as if her touch had momentarily constricted your breathing, pressing right on your diaphragm.

She delivered a throaty chuckle straight into your neck. “You never let up, do you?”

“Never.”

You turned in her arms, your hands finding her hips, parting those smooth, sculpted thighs with one of your own, not even pressing in just yet. And God, may he smite you where you stand for being just as disgusting as the countless sleazy men she’s dodged in her life, but you’d gladly give her son Evan a sibling if biology allowed it.

Maybe an exorcism would fix you. Or maybe bending her over and fucking her dumb in doggy position would do the trick. Who knew.

Either way, her turgid nipples beneath the satin dress brushed yours—and you swore you could her them beg to be sucked on, bitten into. Her hand gently threaded through your strands, even though she had long since ruined your once-perfect hairstyle. 

But to her, you still looked perfect. Maybe even better like this. Perhaps it was the thrill of it, of being with someone she shouldn’t be with. Someone younger. Someone reckless, someone who almost had as much vitality as her, who didn’t care about rules or what was right. 

There was something about that she found irresistible. It wasn’t just the way you moved around, but the way you always knew what you were doing, like you were born knowing exactly how to handle a woman like her.

And that did things to her. Things she wasn’t proud of.

Her fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up so she could let her lips linger on yours, her tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your hands twitch on her and drag her closer. She pulled away just enough to murmur against your mouth, “That’s what I like about you.”

You didn’t even bother responding, too busy fumbling with the zipper on her back, pulling it down with a hasty jerk. 

She pressed herself against you, her breath erratic in your ear, her breasts spilling over from the loosened fabric. Your pulse pounded, body reacting to every little sound she made, every little shift of her hips against yours—until her eyes fluttered open and locked on something just behind you.

“Has that painting always been there?”

That was all it took for your hands to freeze on her back. 

Of all the fucking moments.

The heat between your thighs vanished like it had never been there, wetness gone in an instant, dried up all at once. But she didn’t notice. Her fingertips continued to skim up and down your arms, still lost in the fire of the moment.

She wondered how she had never noticed it before, despite having been here countless times. Even with her dress barely clinging to her body and your hands poised to rip it off, her attention was drawn to it like an afterthought that refused to be ignored, the only thing worth worrying about. 

You genuinely hoped, with all yourself, she would just let it go. It wasn’t like she could see the meaning behind it. To her, it was probably just an abstract piece of art. 

But it was too big to ignore. A piece of something long dead you’d tried to bury, almost laughable when you thought about it—you still had her things scattered around your apartment. Even as you moved out, you’d brought her stuff with you. 

So, were you truly trying to leave it all behind?

“Yeah,” You croaked out. The hands that had been restlessly pulling at her dress now fell still at your sides. Natalie blinked, tilting her head slightly to the side to glance back at you. 

“I think I’m more tired than I realized.” You made a small sound in your throat, the space between you yawning wide.

Her full lips parted just a hair, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face like a shooting star, dying just as quickly. You knew she had been expecting more after the expensive dinner she had kindly offered you, but Natalie wasn’t like the men she had been with before. She knew how to take a hint and wasn’t going to push. She was a lady, after all.

“Oh,” she forced a gentle smile on, her hands cupping your face as her thumbs tenderly mapped the curve of your cheekbones. “That’s okay, my love.”

“You sure?”

She hummed softly, leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving behind one last stain of deep red before letting go of you. Her sweet scent enveloped you, smothering whatever ugly feeling had started to resurface. It was sweet, but nothing like Ellie’s. 

Natalie smelled like safety, like she could give you everything you thought you needed—but you didn’t get dizzy from it. There was no pine, no worn flannel, no trace of soft detergent or that faint floral earthiness that floats in the air only after a summer downpour. No, this one was just nice, clean, and forgettable. 

Nothing you’d want to memorize because you didn’t want to learn another scent.

For an unexpected moment, you felt guilty for thinking of her and pulling away from this goddess after such an incredible night. She had treated you so right, and you wanted to repay her somehow, by ending the night on an even higher note—or moan. But the truth was, you just weren’t feeling it, and that was absurd because you not being in the mood? What a rarity.

“I should probably head home anyway. It’s late, and to be honest…” The older woman trailed off as she batted her lashes. “I don’t exactly trust my new babysitter with Evan.” Her smile broadened, twin dimples forming in her cheeks.

That made you snort softly, feeling the tension inside you crumble just a little. “Hey, as soon as I get back from that stupid camp, he’s all mine again,” you promised, grinning.

“Nuh-uh, you need to focus on your studies,” she scolded, voice dipping into something almost motherly, fingers fixing your hair gently, pulling your dress strap back into place.

“I’ll be free on weekends, though.” 

The corners of Natalie’s lips lifted, the bold red of her lipstick blurred around the edges from the way her mouth had pressed against yours. She looked like a silk-clad nympho, dark tendrils of her hair artfully shadowing the curves of her cheekbones—the wet fantasy of many. 

And yet, standing within arm’s reach, you didn’t want her.

Something was missing, you felt it in the sickening hollow carved into your chest.

“I hope you had a good night.” 

Your head bobbed faintly. “I sure did.”

The coal-haired woman swiftly collected her things, donned her coat, and was gone in the blink of an eye. You stayed by the door, observing as her expensive car drove off into the night, her perfume lingering in the air.

A pitiful whine broke through your daze. You sighed, glanced down, and there she was. A golden furball, sitting at your feet with her head tilted, tongue poking out, giving you that silly look. The “I haven’t been walked yet, and I’m not happy about it” look. Her big, pleading, earthy eyes met yours, and guilt twisted in your stomach. How dare you forget to walk your baby? 

“I know, Pumpkin… I haven’t forgotten about your walk,” you reassured, running a hand through your locks. A soft, almost human sigh preceded a sudden burst of energy as you announced, “leash! Go get your leash, baby.” Her tail thumped excitedly before she bolted towards the living room.

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards in a fond smile, but as you turned back toward the painting, the smile turned lopsided, looking more like a pout than anything. Because no matter how much you tried to ignore it, that canvas was still hanging there. 

And no matter how good Natalie had made you feel tonight, no matter how much she tried to fuck the ghost of Ellie out of you, Ellie was still there.

Still haunting you.

It was useless.

The languid drag of a warm tongue against Ellie’s clit should’ve had her sinking into the mattress, fingers gripping tight, panting like a dog and dragging the girl deeper between her thighs. 

But the redhead barely felt it. 

The girl’s deep brown skin gleamed under the shitty yellow light of the bedroom lamp, her swollen lips glossed with Ellie’s slick. But the way she had been looking up at her the entire night wasn’t what Ellie needed. 

The autumn-haired girl could tell she wanted more than just a hookup, which was exactly what Ellie wasn’t looking for. She fisted a hand into thick curls, tugging the girl further between her spread thighs, trying to chase something that could make her body feel again. Yet, the pleasure was dull, forced, like chasing a high that never really hits. Like ordering some overpriced edibles from a shady website, only to realize it was all a scam. 

Strange, really—because the freckled girl remembered sex as something that made her forget her own name, yet her mind was buzzing with overlapping thoughts, refusing to blur. She wasn’t forgetting a thing. If anything, she could have traced her name onto the girl’s scalp just to prove how much of a bad idea this was. How bad it all felt.

Her grip tightened. The girl, short, all curves, and devastatingly pretty, let out a whimper against her, but the sound barely stirred any reaction from Ellie’s gut. She didn’t even like the way the girl sounded. 

Ellie blinked up at the ceiling, the spinning fan above blurring into nothing but a fog of regrets. Her head ached, her palm wiping away some of the sweat clinging to her creased forehead. The music from downstairs throbbed through walls, the bass barely vibrating picture frames, the muffled voices unable to mask the little slurps between her thighs, tentative darts of a tongue working too hard to coax out a sensation.

The brunette inbetween her thighs sucked gently at her clit, her tongue circling, nudging under the hood, waiting for a reaction that Ellie never gave. She wasn’t bad, just—fuck, Ellie didn’t know. 

Something was missing. She had expected to be panting, rolling her hips into a warm mouth, begging for more. But instead, she just stared down at her, watching as she fumbled, looking so fucking proud of herself, and felt nothing.

Maybe she didn’t even want this. Which was fucking insane because she had been aching for it all day, and now, with a real mouth between her legs instead of her beloved rose toy, she felt like she could roll over and nap.

Maybe it was the alcohol numbing her nerves, perhaps her hangover already creeping in. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn’t remember the girl’s name. Or maybe it was the way her body refused to react. 

Either way, the freckled girl felt blessed for not having a dick, because if she did, she was sure as hell it would’ve gone soft the second this girl laid hands on her. 

On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, because her pussy was some numb little thing that stayed unresponsive the moment a girl she didn’t want touched her. 

Someone who wasn’t you. Or maybe it was Ellie’s heart that was the problem, shutting down the rest—but since when were pussy and heart even connected?

“Oh, fuck… yeah, mhm, just like that.” Her voice came out strained, but not from pleasure. Just exhaustion, frustration. 

Maybe that’s why she agreed to this in the first place. 

She had been lingering by the counter, taking shot after shot of vodka, barely listening to Dina ramble about something, when this girl had slid up beside her—all coy smile, dewy brown eyes, tight little blue dress showing off her fat ass. She was cute. A little shy but bold enough to flirt with Ellie like she had already won. 

Maybe that’s what did it. The way her hands kept trailing up Ellie’s tattooed forearm, eyes flicking to her mouth every few seconds, licking at her glossed lips like she couldn’t wait to taste her.

So Ellie let her.

Let her grab her hand and pull her up the stairs. Let her shove her onto some random bedroom mattress and sink to her knees like she was about to confess every sin she was about to commit. Let another girl undress her and her tongue do her thing, and let herself pretend for a second that it wasn’t awful.

But she was fucking bored. She could be in her room, lost in video games or buried in comics. Instead, her head pounded from the cheap alcohol Jesse had shoved into her hand, and her stomach turned from whatever jungle juice Dina had forced down her throat earlier.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, and suddenly, it wasn’t some nameless girl kneeling between her legs anymore. 

It was you.

It was only then that her body finally reacted. Suddenly, she was moaning.

She could almost feel the ghost of you her memory was painting in her mind—could feel the delicious heat licking at her spine, her stomach tightening, your tongue sucking her in hungrily. She could feel you smile against her, feel the way you pressed a little closer, your tongue gliding through her slit like a credit card, wanting nothing more than to drive her insane.

The girl whimpered, her hands smoothing up Ellie’s thighs, squeezing, nails biting into porcelain skin. But still, all she could see was you looking up at her with those wide eyes, hungry for her. Her hand guiding your head, showing you exactly how she wanted to be devoured. 

Ellie’s hips rolled into the girl’s mouth, fingers twisting painfully into disheveled curls, “Mmm, yeah, fuck—just like that, baby.”

The girl whimpered again, encouraged, hands gripping Ellie’s thighs tightly.

Her mind kept dragging her back to the way your lips felt when they latched onto the soft skin of her inner thighs like a leech, sucking deep lavenders into her flesh, marking her. To the way your mean fingernails would bite into her dips, holding her like you’d fucking perish if you let go. To the expert strokes of your wet muscle against her pained nub, torturing her just to make her beg.

Her moans only got louder and it wasn’t thanks to the girl between her legs.

“Shit, yeah—fuuuck, you’re so good, ’m so, so close—”

And then the warmth in her stomach was gone, and so was the ghost of you.

Ellie’s climax was ripped away as the girl suddenly pulled back, gasping for air, her lips glossy with her juices and swollen. Her glassy, green eyes snapped open as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Why did you stop?” 

Still panting, the girl’s uncertain eyes fixed upwards as she brushed a stray curl from her face, “You’ve been saying you’re close for the past thirty minutes, Eleanor.”

Her stomach dropped.

Ellie’s eyes narrowed at the way she butchered her name—as if Cupid himself was fucking with her. Because suddenly, it didn’t just feel like you were in her head; it felt like you were right here in the room, grinning, watching as the moment crumbled around her. Proud of yourself for ruining her so completely that she couldn’t even finish without you invading her thoughts. That even with someone else between her legs, it was still you that had her body and soul tied to.

“Is it me? Am I that bad?”

A soft sigh accompanied the downward sweep of Ellie’s hand across her warm, blush-dusted face. “No, it’s just—” She pushed herself upright, her mind already sifting through shitty excuses to spoon-feed this sweet little thing blinking up at her.

The smell of her perfume was way too sweet—revolting, even—and Ellie hated how it coated her tongue every time she sucked in a breath.

“Guess ’m too drunk for this,” she shoved her reddish bangs back, though it clung there, stubbornly sticking with sweat at her temples.

The girl pouted subtly, studying her for a moment, before nodding softly, looking a little hurt. “It’s okay,” she soothed, climbing onto Ellie’s body and pressing a slow kiss on her mouth. The kiss felt far too lingering for the freckled girl’s taste, and she found herself counting down the seconds until the girl finally pulled away.

Only Ellie knew how much effort it took to swallow the revulsion rising in her throat, to stay still, to keep from wiping the girl’s spit off her lips the moment it ended.

And yet, despite how catastrophic the whole thing had been, the first thing the curly-haired girl asked was if she could have her number, maybe hang out sometime that week.

But Ellie was already scooting away, reciting her digits quickly. Her movements were frantic as she hastily pulled her clothes back on, watching the girl type it in, beaming as if Ellie had just gifted her the very fucking stars. 

She needed air, or maybe she just needed an escape.

It was almost adorable, the way she bounced on her feet before the bedroom door clicked shut behind her, leaving Ellie alone, drowning in thoughts louder than the music still thumping through the walls.

Sweat cooled against her pale skin, her stomach twisting from alcohol and regret. 

She should feel bad for giving that sweet girl the wrong number. Should feel something. 

But she didn’t.

Because when her eyes shut, it was you she was thinking of.

.⊹⋆.˚ TAGLIST ﹕ @rew1nds @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica @kaykeryyy @nenas19 @rxreaqia @fatbootymuncher @dying-brb @euphoric-rush @intothespidersweb @d1psht @prettygirlfemme @antobooh @vahnilla @na0koz @sta-rcrossed @evaprincessx @prwttiestbunny @liasxeatt @hitmehardmommy @pearlplui @pray4carsss @bambiaches @piscesthepoet @iadorefineshyt 1800-i-eat-pussy @morticeras @ellesrad @l0veylace @juiceboxfullofslime @luvherguts @moonfloweredprincess prettybabylol eriiwaiii2 [COMMENT TO BE ADDED!]

[guzmanstark]

If you're taking prompts/requests, I would love 30 & 50 🥰 thinking someone attacking buck, protective eddie...medic eddie...sigh

intimacy prompts - being protective + patching up a wound

Buck flinches the moment Eddie’s gloved fingers graze his skin, the citrus from Eddie’s shampoo hits him like a gut-punch, sharp and too familiar, making his stomach flip. Buck tightens his grip on the edge of the bathtub where he sits, tries to breathe through the nausea.

“Are you going to be sick?” Eddie asks.

He’s too close, kneeling in front of Buck in his cut-off gray sweatpants, bare knees digging into the cold tiles.

Buck shakes his head. He doesn’t need to look to know that Eddie's frowning, eyebrows drawn like he’s not buying it.

“How much did you drink?”

Buck shrugs. He stopped counting after the third beer.

“Okay,” Eddie says after a beat, tilting Buck's chin up. “Just try to stay still for me.”

Eddie shifts closer, gently dabbing the damp gauze against Buck’s skin. The sting feels good. Grounding.

“Okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck rasps.

Eddie’s face is set in concentration, his long lashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks under the harsh bathroom light. He looks beautiful. He always does.

“You gonna tell me how that happened?” Eddie says, quiet, still focused on the task, steady hands working across Buck’s face, wiping away dried blood.

Buck doesn’t answer. Just watches him. There’s a tiny freckle on his shoulder, peeking out from under the edge of his tank. Has it always been there? Buck’s never noticed it before. He kind of wants to press his thumb into it, just to see what would happen.

Eddie looks up, eyes meeting his, and Buck’s stomach turns again. For an entirely different reason this time. He drops his gaze, jaw tight.

“Buck?” Eddie tries once more.

“Not really in the mood to talk about it.”

“Well, tough luck, because we are talking about it.”

Buck knows he’s not being fair—Eddie deserves an explanation. Buck didn’t think twice before calling him. Didn’t even consider how it would feel for Eddie to be woken up by his phone in the middle of the night. Again. After Bobby—

His knees nearly gave out when the realization hit. He barely made it to the nearest trash can, stomach emptying in sharp, miserable waves.

He felt stupid. Selfish. He wasn’t even bleeding anymore, he could have called an Uber.

He felt like a kid standing on the side of the road waiting for Eddie’s car to pull up. He felt like a kid sitting in Eddie’s passenger seat, forehead pressed to the cold window, water bottle clutched in his hands like a lifeline. He felt like a kid waiting in the car while Eddie made a stop at the 7-Eleven to pick up some ice for Buck's throbbing, messed-up face.

He swallows. “It wasn't a big deal, alright? Just some guy being an asshole.”

Eddie eyes him carefully. His jaw ticks, kind of like he wants to punch someone. “Did he… say something to you?”

Buck laughs—an ugly, bitter sound. “Not to me, no.”

”You were with someone?”

“Jesus, Eddie, no I wasn't with anyone. Not that it’s any of your business.” Eddie swallows, then nods, pulling something out of the first aid kit. “He was bothering some girl, okay? She was clearly uncomfortable and—“

“And you had to step in,” Eddie says, there’s an edge to his voice, it’s not angry or scolding, mostly he just sounds tired. “Since when are you the guy who gets into bar fights?”

“I’m not!”

Eddie raises his eyebrows as if to say are you sure about that, bud? He cups Buck’s jaw, angling his face to get a better look at the split skin on his cheekbone. “I don’t think you’re gonna need stitches for that,” he says, covering the cut with a clean bandage before taping it down.

“Good,” Buck says.

“You are gonna get a pretty decent black eye, though.”

Buck nods, mouth pressed into a line.

Eddie brushes a careful thumb over the bandage before clearing his throat and letting go of Buck’s face.

“Hands?” Eddie questions.

“All good,“ Buck mutters, fingers twitching. “Just a few bruises.”

Eddie hums, not entirely satisfied. He pulls off the gloves and tosses them in the bin.

“What were you even doing at that place?” he asks.

And Buck is—irrationally angry.

He knows he’s not being fair again. It's just—he didn’t actually plan to get himself punched tonight, despite what Eddie might think. He just needed to go out, clear his head. Wrong place, wrong time, or whatever.

But he can’t really blame Eddie for not knowing that sometimes his brain gets too loud in his all too quiet apartment. Except he kind of does. Because if Buck had told him, Eddie would have just told him to come over. And Buck would have done it. Would’ve folded, crawled to Eddie's doorstep like a pathetic little dog.

And that’s the whole fucking problem, isn’t it?

His chest feels tight. The alcohol in his system is dragging everything up—higher, higher, until it’s right there in his throat, burning.

“Why do you care?” He bites out.

Eddie blinks, taken aback. Like he didn’t expect him to snap at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you care where I’m going? Who I’m with?”

“Of course I care, you’re my—“

”Your-your what, Eddie? Your friend?” Buck’s voice cracks. “Please, tell me what I am to you because I honestly have no idea.“

It took him a while to see it, but he sure as hell sees it now—how much he depends on Eddie. How much he craves his attention, his light.

And Eddie—Eddie indulges him. Lets him get away with it. Like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him with those big, shiny eyes. Buck kind of wants to cry.

“Got it,” Buck mutters bitterly, pushing himself up to stand.

“Buck, stop.” Eddie’s hands land firmly on Buck’s thighs, holding him in place. “Ask me again in the morning.”

“What?”

“Please.” Eddie’s fingers tighten, pressing deeper into the muscle. “Tomorrow. When you’re sober. Ask me.”

Buck’s chest aches. His face aches. Everything aches. Eddie’s hands are still on him, steady and warm. Gentle. Always so fucking gentle.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m asking now.”

“Buck—“

“You know how many nights I spent sleeping at my new place in the past month? Eight. Eight nights, Eddie. Because I’m always here. Every time you call. I’m here. Do you think that’s—“

“Yeah, well, who the hell asked you to move out?” Eddie cuts him off, loud enough for the words to echo, bounce off the walls until the room feels like it’s shaking with their gravity.

Buck freezes.

“What?”

“I came back and all your things were gone. Didn’t even bother telling me. How’s that fair?”

“I-I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would I want that? Why would I want—“ He rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, frustrated. “Jesus Christ, Buck. You want to know what you are to me? You’re—You’re the air in my fucking lungs, man. I want you to be here all the time. You’re the reason why I—” he grabs a fistful of Buck’s shirt, exhaling heavily. “Fuck it.”

Eddie kisses him. Swallows the tiny sound of surprise that escapes from the back of Buck’s throat.

“Shit,” Eddie pants. ”Sorry. You’re drunk. And hurt. We should—”

Buck’s head is clearer now, still throbbing but focused. Sober enough to know exactly what he’s doing. He cups the back of Eddie’s head, pulling him in.

“I'm not that drunk,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips before capturing them in his once more. He tangles his fingers in Eddie’s hair, gives it a light tug, just hard enough to make Eddie’s breath catch.

Eddie’s hands find a place around Buck’s ribs—soft, steady. Holding onto him like he’s something worth keeping.

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks when they pull away to catch their breath, carefully brushing a few curls from Buck’s eyes.

“I think my face hurts more now, actually,” Buck admits, but he’s smiling.

“Shit. Sorry, did I—“

Buck kisses him again.

“Worth it,” he whispers, because he’s a sap.

“Yeah?”

Buck hums. ”I'm the air in your lungs?” he says, biting back a laugh. ”Who talks like that?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at him, fond. “You’re lucky you’re injured. I’d hate to make you sleep on the couch.”

“Hey, I happen to like the couch.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna love the bed then.”

Buck does.

[korebringerofded]

Sugar for Breakfast- Bob Reynolds X F!Reader

Summary- After pining for months, your first kiss with Bob is interrupted and he desperately wants a do-over. Warnings/Tags- Tooth-rotting fluff, Bob in love, slight mention of childhood trauma (bobs dad when I find you), Bob not feeling good enough, slight angst ig A/N- Anyways I watched Thunderbolts and awoke from a writing slump to create this. I have many more planned for Bob so I will add a section soon. Dividers used were made by- @sweetmelodygraphics Words-3848 

Bob loves like someone afraid of taking up too much space.Terrified of being too much, or not enough.

He loves quietly, distantly, painfully gentle in everything he says and does. Never forgetting to grab you a water when he gets himself one. Always keeping one or two of your favorite snacks tucked in his hoodie for long trips, he knew you always got irritable when you hadn’t eaten in a while, not that Bob would complain. Even tense and grumpy, you were still his guiding light, his unknowing north star.

Bob didn’t remember another stretch of time when his thoughts were clear enough to really feel or process anything that happened to him in the moment. Everything he did was for survival, that is, until the team came along, a real support system for once

And more than that, he had you.

Years of chasing down something- anything to suture that gaping hole in his chest, high out of his mind, slipping into that safe, silent, oblivion. All that time he had spent numb to the world had left him completely unprepared for the intensity of what you planted within him, leaving him vulnerable to the feelings that had bloomed in his chest and threatened to tear him open with their curling roots.

Your very proximity was enough to fracture him to stardust, burn his very cells like an imploding star. Every glance and smile was worshiped and savored in his mind, each brush of contact enough to knock oxygen from his lungs

The worst part? You didn’t seem to notice how completely and irreversibly gone for you he was.

It was slowly becoming routine, these quiet mornings. Most of the time, the rest of the team was scattered, each tending to their own tasks or missions. Bucky and Yelena were early risers, always awake and working before anyone else was out of bed. Ava and John would wake not long after, usually resulting in a silent battle of wills over steaming cups of coffee. Alexi sleeps until noon more often than not.

That leaves you and Bob to have breakfast together most days.

You would normally take turns cooking for the other, though Bob preferred it when you took over, especially after he burned a batch of biscuits to coal, which had in turn set off the smoke detectors. 

He still hadn’t lived that particular culinary disaster down, he couldn’t even use the microwave without everyone snickering.

Not that Bob complained, it was just another excuse to he savored the meals you prepared, for just the two of you.He relished in the fact that this stretch of time with you was his alone, a small cocoon of early golden light and cups of coffee.

Even on lazy days like today, when sleep still clung so thoroughly to you both that neither had the energy to do anything more than pour cereal into mix-matched bowls. Bob was captivated

Tucked away in that moment together, watching you eat sugary cereal for breakfast became worship, Bob your devoted disciple, the dark cherry table you sat at the altar, the now tepid coffee a holy sacrament. As he always was around you, Bob had been reduced to a silent sentinel from a sight that should've been normal, casual. 

But nothing about the way you made him feel had ever felt casual. 

Bob’s breakfast had gone long forgotten, a soggy mess left in the bowl as he tried to memorize this moment. The messy state of your hair, the faded t-shirt hanging loosely from one shoulder. The pale glow of the sun poured into the room, quiet and soft as it curled around them both. He couldn’t help it, his eyes continued to trace over the shape of your face, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your gaze as the light danced over flesh that Bob wanted so desperately to touch. 

Cute. Dangerous, fucking unraveling.

He suddenly needed to do something with his hands- anything to keep himself from doing something really mortifying, like actually touching you. His fingers curled tight over his spoon- which he held like a tether to reality as he tried to will himself to stop acting like a love-sickened fool. 

You, completely unaware of his internal torment, had your legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone with a slight furrow to your brow as a spoon absently hung from your lips.Unconsciously, your tongue darted out to clean the sweetened milk from its metallic surface.

It’s like you were trying to test how quickly you could turn the poor guy’s brain to useless mush. A searing heat spread over his already feverish skin as his fingers tightened into tight fists. Anything to keep those damned, traitorous thoughts pushed deep down so they didn’t surface on his lips.

Unbidden, like a ghost haunting his mind and crawling out from his gaping chest came the image of actually tasting the sweetness that currently coated your lips, the artificial sweetness mingled with the taste of that vanilla lip balm you swore by.

The moment that thought seared into his mind, unrelenting in its detail, its heady vividity nearly overwhelming and Bob let out a choked sound somewhere between a gasp and a cough which made your eyes flicker up, confusion evident on your face. 

The exact moment your eyes met with his ocean blue ones- and it was like his whole body jolted, pure lighting striking through his veins.

There was a distinct snap that echoed in the room, a faint metallic dink following immediately as the top of the spoon clattered on the surface of the table. You could just stare at the thing, blinking like you weren’t sure if you were still asleep or not. 

Before you could stop it, soft laughter bubbled up in your chest and slipped from your parted lips.

“Jeez-what did that poor defenseless spoon ever do to you?” 

“I didn't-” Bob started, his eyes wide as he just stared at the two pieces laying before him. “I-I mean. I did but...” He rubbed the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than to sink into his own mortification and never return.

You noticed panic spreading over his expression like a wildfire- rapidly consuming in its wake as he looked anywhere but at you. 

Unbidden, memories of his childhood resurfaced. Habits, the terror of making a mistake and the inevitable punishments. All of that fear trapped inside such a little body, crushing, expanding, too heavy to carry. It spread like icy water flooding his lungs to the point of bursting.

He couldn’t stand the idea of it, you looking at him with that same disappointment he had seen mirrored in people all his life. On his mothers face, in his fathers actions, in all the people that left him behind. He stood then-suddenly needing to be literally anywhere else. 

That’s what had become comfortable, familiar. That safe darkness, where the only danger was himself.

And then, before it could consume him, drag him under entirely, you were there, standing in front of him and closer now. You gently squeezed his arm with an anchoring, steadying touch. A soft smile on your face, the one that always made his heart seize up, gentle, patient, fucking radiant.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.I am fairly certain Bucky has a similar habit.” 

Bob snorted, almost jolted with the simplicity of it. It wasn’t a big deal,he could mess up, break things and it was...fine, he was fine, not a burden or a mistake, just human…with the strength to snap a spoon in half.

“Yeah?” He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he held your gaze, a smile tugging over his features. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure he’s gone through five different phones.” You nodded.

That got a real laugh out of him, lips curling as the rare and warm sound filled the space around you both. It was infectious and then you were both laughing, eyes crinkling and sides aching as the sound filled the room. Bob found himself laughing with you often, more than he had in years.

He almost died then and there when you didn’t pull away from him. You found yourself wanting to just bask in the light of his smile. It always warmed you, that smile, the soft expression he had when he looked at you. Those deep blue eyes always left your mind in complete shambles, fingers itching to trace over the lines of his face, the shape of his jaw. To maybe see if he really had the sun living beneath his flesh.

You curled your hand over his wrist, letting your fingers brush up his arm. He tensed as lightning traveled along the path you drew, each movement so certain, mapping each space like you’d done it countless times, an artist pressing pen to paper, second nature. 

Bob was sure he’d forgotten how to breathe in oxygen as he watched your fingers trace over his knuckles. As if on instinct, he turned his hand over, marveling at the simple touch- how much it affected him. Both embarrassed by how it affected him and equally desperate to never forget how it felt. His chest tightened and ached as you followed the lines across his palm, lingering for a moment before your fingers cured over his own. 

“I like hearing you laugh.” You said softly, eyes flickering from intertwined hands to meet blue eyes that never once strayed from you. It was normal for him, almost an instinct to search for you in every room, at every party,even in his dreams. 

“It’s easy with you.” 

He immediately cringed at his own words which slipped out before he could stop them. For a moment, those old doubts crept up, heavy, suffocating-then it was fading away at the  sight of a toothy smile on your face, head tilted in slight amusement as a blush spread from the apples of your cheeks.

That damned smile, the one that made him wish he was an artist purely so he could draw you over and over again, capture each sacred detail, memorized and immortalized. Just for him.

“Are you flirting with me, Reynolds?” You hummed, head tilted and amusement sparkling in your eyes.

He felt like all the air had been knocked from him, hand tightening over yours, fingers still intertwined and you were so close, temptingly so. You were touching him, teasing him, fucking flirting with him. Was this a dream? If it was a dream, he was fine never waking again.

“Trying to.” His voice was rough, a slight furrow to his brows as his eyes traced over the shape of your face.”Is that okay?” He added, voice a little softer, hesitation lacing through each word.

“Mhm.” You nodded “More than okay.” 

He had leaned forward without even realizing it, his body betraying him in favor of your tempting warmth, that smile that made him feel like he mattered. That he was the sun and the stars and the whole universe all wrapped up in one person. 

He could feel it resurfacing then, that starved part of himself that just wanted to hold and be held by someone in return- was clawing its way out. 

He wanted to hold you, wanted to know exactly how your body would feel against his and how your lips tasted. His hand trembled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek with a ghost of a touch, like he was terrified he would shatter you.

Bob made the fatal mistake of letting his eyes drift down to your lips, lingering there before darting back to your eyes. It felt like everything had stopped, suspended in that moment, both still in pajamas, standing so close in a cluttered kitchen and breakfast long-long forgotten. 

“I have- never wanted anything as much as I want to kiss you right now.” 

His words were so soft, meant only for you. His warm hand slipped away from yours so he could trail up your arm, heat dancing along his path across your shoulder before cradling your cheek, every touch laced with worship and complete devotion. All the words he couldn’t say, emotions too heavy and deep to explain, each one embedded in his delicate touch.

In answer, you leaned in, just enough for the very ends of your noses to brush, your minty-sugary breath curling against his cheek as your hands slid up his chest, pressed flat to him. God- you couldn’t help but want to know how his hands felt all over your body, to feel that heat he always radiated directly from his skin, to soak him in like the sun on a summer day-

“Ahem.” 

You and Bob separated immediately, as if burned at the contact to see Alexi leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and an amused expression on his face. He was wearing those annoying ‘New Avengerz’ slippers he insisted were ‘quality’.

Bob was silent, eyes wide and taking a few steps away from you with his palms raised slightly. It was kinda cute, that deer caught in headlights look he had right then.

You had to bite your lip to contain your amusement, a grin spreading as you watched color burn over Bob’s face. It wasn’t all at once, starting at his neck, radiating from the neckline of that navy sweater he always wore. He always looked so warm, like the sun lived beneath his flesh and its heat settled in his chest like a cat curled up for a nap. But now- he looked with a faint pink spreading over the apples of his cheeks, over the end of his nose.

“How long have you been watching us?” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. The whole team was sure to hear about this later.You got a headache just thinking about the inevitable teasing.

Alexi laughed, shrugging as he crossed the room to pour himself a cup of coffee. “I have never wanted any-” He started to recite Bob’s words in a dramatic tone, a cup held out like he was reciting shakespeare. He was mercifully cut off by a choked gasp from Bob.

“Okay okay!” Bob threw his hands up as he started to crumble under the weight of his humiliation.

“Thanks- got it.” He mumbled, grabbing his coffee from the table, and heading for the door. He couldn’t find the strength to look at either you or Alexi as he planned to take refuge in his room, overhearing Alexi refer to them as ‘lovebirds’ and ‘young love’ as he walked down the hallway.

It was later that day, the clock beside his bed glowing in the dark room. Almost midnight- and Bob was still obsessing over that moment, growing more and more distraught. The interruption, the fact he had wanted it so badly and yet still hesitated. The idea that you had maybe actually wanted to kiss him, that you hadn’t pulled away or laughed at his pathetic attempts to flirt. It was all too much to process. 

He was, trying, failing to sleep, desperate to stop the memories of how good you had felt in his hands, how right it had felt. His fingers tightened in his blankets, willing those damned thoughts into silence and yet- over and over again he found himself drifting back to you, the scent of your shampoo, the curl of your lips when you smiled.

“Fuck.” 

He sat up, shaking his head like it would dispel the image as well as the lingering thoughts that haunted the already crowded halls of his mind. 

Did I lose my chance? Would she ever let me try again? Do I even deserve to try again? 

He wanted to try again.

Bob decided he couldn’t take it, the uncertainty, the thought that he might’ve ruined things between the two of you. He didn’t allow himself to think too hard on it before he ventured out into the halls of the tower which were dimly lit by glowing sconces along the wall.

All the confidence he had on the walk to your room seemed to drain from him and for a moment he just stood there, hand hovering over the door in a trembling fist. This was a horrible idea, coming to your room so late. You were probably asleep, he shouldn’t disturb you. 

He let his shoulder drop a little, his hand dropping to his side as he started to turn- deciding to talk to you tomorrow when he was less of a wreck.

“Bob?” 

The universe definitely had it out for him today, he was certain of it. His chest felt tight and hands clenched tight into fists as he turned to face you. 

You had a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other. You wore a t-shirt that practically swallowed up your legs, hanging at your knees, hair a little messy like you were tossing in bed. Your brows knitted slightly, the tension in his shoulders was obvious, the click of his jaw at your proximity. 

“Oh- I was just...” Bob trailed off, clearing his throat ,trying and failing to appear casual. “Wandering, I guess. What about you, midnight snack?” He waved to the fruit and water, trying to change the subject. 

You nodded, a slight smile spreading on your face as you walked past him to push open your door, setting the bowl and cup down on your desk. 

“You weren’t at dinner.” You added, turning back to Bob who stood at the edge of your door like an old fashioned vampire- seeking permission to enter your space. 

He sighed, picking at the ends of his sweater as he looked at his hands, trying to steady himself with its familiarity. It was true, he had kept to himself the rest of the day. 

“Yeah. Didn’t really wanna hear Alexi’s rendition of-” He waved vaguely between the two of you. “For a crowd.” 

“It wasn’t so bad.” You laughed, chewing on your lip. Alexi had indeed told everyone at dinner in a dramatic retelling that made Walker gag. 

“You can come in.” 

Bob swallowed audibly, eyes flickering to your face like he was searching for confirmation that he had actually heard that right. He took a few steps in, almost shuffling his feet before closing the door behind him. 

It was almost unfair how good he looked like this, wide and glossy eyes as he watched your every move with his hands twitching at his sides. He had on a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips, a sliver of skin under the white t-shirt he wore. You didn’t hide the way your eyes trailed up from his hands, his forearms and up to his biceps, broad shoulders. You wanted to memorize every marble-carved inch of him, every vein along his flesh, shape everything with your hands until his very bones were synced to your own 

The strongest man alive, and he was terrified to touch you, you could see it on his face as you stood right before him. 

“You came to my room, right?” Your hand gently traced up his wrist, following the same path your eyes had begun only moments ago, gentle mapmaking, memorizing this moment. 

“Yes.” His voice was so soft, so rough. 

“It’s late.” Your hand traced up his chest, feeling his chest tighten beneath your palm, heart beating like a heavy drum, falling in time with your own the closer you got. 

“I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything but think about how badly-.” He paused, eyes searching your expression, hoping, wanting, pleading for you to understand. “If we hadn’t been interrupted this morning-.” 

He was horrible at this, and you touching him only made it impossible to find the words

“Being around you-.” He pressed his hand over yours, holding your hand flat to his chest so you could feel his warmth, like he needed to draw strength from your presence. “It makes me feel alive. I don’t want to ruin what we have- I don’t want to fuck this up.” He leaned his forehead against yours, taking in a shaky breath, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses, something light and floral maybe. 

You moved before he did, leaning forward to loop your arms around his neck and leaning in close, your lips trailing over his cheek before pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek, breath curling over his ear. Bob took in a sharp breath, a low curse leaving his lips.

“Do you still want to kiss me?” You mumbled, pulling back enough so your eyes locked, your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy.

“Yes- God- Yes.” 

His hands cupped your face with an achingly soft caress, thumb brushing over your cheek and nearly melting at how soft you felt, he wouldn’t waste another moment, refusing to allow even a flicker of hesitation before his lips crashed against yours. 

You tasted like sanctuary and worship and redemption. You tasted of a future full of a light so blinding it would chase away the darkness, the madness of his mind and past. How did he even survive without this?

It was heated, slow, unhurried- like he planned to learn the shape of your mouth and set it to memory. He let one hand slip from your cheek to curl over your hip to pull you closer, to feel the softness and warmth of your curves against his still unfamiliar marble planes of muscle.You let out a soft gasp, melting into his arms as if you belonged there as Bob slowly walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed.

He pulled back, pupils blown and taking up all the crystalline blue you loved so much, lips glossy and kiss bruised. His hands tightened as they rested on your waist, thumb tracing shapes along the sliver of flesh there as he rested his forehead against yours, taking in a shaky breath.

“You have to know- how crazy I am about you.” His voice was raw, each word costing him greatly, his brows furrowed as if he awaited your strike of rejection.

“I know.” You smiled, tracing a thumb over his bottom lip which made him shudder. “I like you too, Bob. Enough to invite you into my room late at night.” A smile tugged at your lips. “Enough that I was disappointed with our interruption this morning, enough that I thought about kissing you all day.”

“I can make up for lost time.” Bob said, the words leaving his lips like a prayer, a wish, that with enough time all the hesitation and past blunders would disappear. 

He was already leaning forward to press soft kisses along your brow, your cheek, the bridge of your nose as you laughed. And Bob took in every moment of it, your laugh, the blush that bloomed over your cheeks.

You were salvation and damnation all wrapped up in one person, and Bob was tired of pretending otherwise.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. All requests are open and you can find my entire masterlist here.

[nanamisbbygirl]

—☆ friends with benefits!

chapter 2. dorm rooms

paring: geto suguru x reader

genre: college au, drama, smut with plot

summary: a pact of pleasure between friends runs the risk of ruining everything. passionate flames burn the hardest. you and geto care about each other, but what happens when sex gets tangled with friendship?

cw: fwb! dynamic (obviously), shower sex, praise kink, dacryphilia if you squint, teasing, toxic dynamic, hickeys, no aftercare, some fluff and humor too

a/n: i tried to include some of their friend group dyanmic, hopefully it comes off natural i don't have a lot of friends lol

prev. < masterlist > next

A month had passed since that fateful houseparty, and you could not stop thinking about Geto. It was impossible to get him off your mind. Your body would ache for him in the middle of the night, thinking about his skillful fingers and just how well he seemed to fit inside of you. 

You couldn’t replicate his rhythm, your imagination just wasn’t cutting it. To say you were frustrated would be an understatement. A part of you wanted to ask him to fuck you again, but you thought that it would be for the best if you didn’t. 

Besides, it seemed as though Geto had moved on to his next victims already. You didn’t see him much, but when you did, there was another girl hanging around him. That hurt you, even if you knew it shouldn’t have. You couldn’t help yourself from crying when you went home, but you knew better. It all felt so pathetic that you were so attached to him. The no strings attached part was made very clear to you. So why did you feel this way? 

Geto acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you, which was not surprising, he told you that much after all. You still laughed together with your friends and of course went out occasionally. On your move-in day, he even helped you– even though it was brief, his muscles were quite useful in picking up some boxes. 

You and Shoko had been lucky enough to be roommates. Although luck had little to do with it, more like submitting the applications at the same time and fudging the responses in order to make sure you were 100% compatible. The only downside was that you didn’t have your own showers. 

That’s why you once again found yourself in Geto’s room– he was lucky enough to have a private room, with an ensuite as well.

“You guys can use it whenever you want, I don’t mind.” He had once said to you and Shoko, but you wondered if that would still be the case after what happened between the two of you.  

Yet, you still found yourself knocking at his door. You had just officially moved into your dorm building, while Geto had already been settled in for about a week. You needed to take a shower, and with how exhausted you were, you weren’t in the mood to use the communal ones. 

“Hey,” he seemed a little bit surprised to see you at the threshold of his room. “What’s up?” 

You lifted the shower caddy, “does the offer still stand– I could really use a shower right now. I stink.” 

He laughed, letting you in. 

“Just give me a sec to clean up a little in there.” He opened the door to his bathroom, and you peeked in. There were a couple towels on the floor, and some tissues that needed to be thrown out. You noticed a box of condoms sitting on his countertop, which he quickly threw under the sink. A small bottle of lube also caught your eye. 

“Actually-” you perked up, “there’s something I want to talk about before…” 

Your voice trails off and Geto raises his eyebrow, looking at you confused. He sat down on his dorm bed, waiting for you to continue. 

“What is it?” He asked, leaning back, placing his hands before his head. 

“If I’m being honest, I can’t stop thinking about… well you know that night.” 

Geto feels a lump forming in his throat, he’s worried that you’re about to confess your love for him or something. His eyes narrow, watching as you stumble over yourself. 

You have to remember the key words: no strings attached. 

“I guess what I’m saying is that- I physically want to be with you again.” You say, flustered. 

“You want me to fuck you again?” He tries to clarify. 

“Maybe, yeah, I mean if you’d be okay with that.” You try saving yourself any more embarrassment, thinking that Geto would just laugh in your face. “And it would be just physical, like-like friends with benefits or something.” 

He scans you up and down as you nervously stand in front of him, anticipating his rejection. There was a quiet break in your conversation, as Geto stared into your eyes. 

“Okay.” He starts, pausing to think. “But only if it’s just physical. I’m not looking for a relationship.” 

You nod, “yeah ‘promise.” 

“You can’t fall in love with me. This isn’t some movie–I’m not Justin Timberlake.” 

Smiling, you reply: “right. I’m not Mila Kunis.” 

Geto hummed, “you’re not my girlfriend and I’m not your boyfriend. We fuck and we stay friends. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you pause, you weren’t used to Geto having such a cold front. His tone sent a shiver down your spine. 

“And another thing,” he started, “it’s probably for the best if you don’t tell anyone about our little arrangement.” 

“That’s fine with me.” You tell him. 

“So,” he said, whipping out a grin, “does that mean you want me to join you in your shower?” 

With those words, you were being pressed up against the shower glass, his warm body behind you, cranking your neck to the side and abusing it with kisses. The dorm shower was small, but you were making it work. 

You could feel his hard dick against your back, how the rubbery texture of the condom poked and rubbed against the curve of your butt. 

His lips found yours, as the steam in the bathroom seemed to intensify. This was exactly what you had been fantasizing about– his large stature taking control of you, fucking you into oblivion. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you whispered in between breaths, your voice nearly been drowned out by the sound of running water. 

Geto’s arms travel around you; one circling your waist, the other putting you in a make-shift headlock, bracing your shoulders. His biceps pressed against your face, and you noticed how much bigger they seemed, making you wonder if he’d been working out more over the summer. 

His dick was lined up with your slit, and with slow thrusts forward, Geto let his dick glide over your pussy, teasing your entrance. 

“Keep begging for it,” he growled in your ear, heating up your core, letting your body mold into his. This was a different side of his sexuality, something more intense, lustful even. Although you didn’t hate it, it riled you up, giving you an animalistic urge to fulfill. 

“Please Su,” you hiccup, “I need you!” 

You squirmed, trying to rub back on him, to force his thick cock inside of you but the arm that was around your waist kept you in place. You were under puddy in his hands, at his mercy, hoping that he would fuck you the way you wanted. 

“Not good enough,” he continued. “Let me really hear you beg for it.” 

Your lip quivered, gripping the glass door like there was no tomorrow. You let out various babbles, hoping that it would satisfy him, pleading desperately for him to go inside of you. Although, your mind was hazy, distressed by the feeling of his shaft toying with your slit. 

“Please, please, please, I need you to fuck me! Please Su, I wanna feel you stretch me out!” You whine, tears rolling down your cheeks, but that seems to only turn him on more. How cute you were when you were desperate. 

“Atta girl.” He begins lining himself up with your entrance, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You shake your head, feeling his cock head dipping into your hole. 

Unlike when he had taken your virginity, he wasn’t as slow or patient, burying his cock deep inside you, rutting up, hitting all the right places. You couldn’t contain the moans and whimpers that you let you– the stretch was amazing. 

“You like being fucked like this?” He asked, making you cry out a weak ‘yes.’ He was smirking, and you could feel it as he pressed his lips against your ear, nibbling it gently before returning some of his attention onto your neck. 

He knew it would be best to not leave any marks, but the option was so tempting. He wanted you to squirm and thrash in his arms as he left love bruises on your not-so-innocent skin. While thinking about just how cruel that would be, his hand found your clit quickly, watching you crumble over his touch. 

“I wanna cum!” You whine, causing his speed to pick up. Both his cock and his fingers worked at an extremely fast pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You kept letting out your squeaky moans, telling him how close you felt. 

That’s when he decided to sink his teeth into your soft neck, driving you over the edge. You didn’t want to imagine the mark that it would leave– first of all being too distracted by the wave of emotion crashing over you. Your thighs shook, relying on Su’s strong arms to hold you in place. You had basically molded to his form. 

You could feel the creamy rings you were forming around him, as the sloppy sounds filled the bathroom. 

Geto’s groans increased too, panting into your ear, letting you know that you were a good girl, and that he was close too. Throbbing inside of you, he pulled out, doing what he had done the first time; ripping off the condom and letting his seed drizzle onto your back. It rolled down your butt and onto the shower floor. 

He held you for a second long, “can you stand?” 

“I-I think so.” You tell him as he starts letting go, reaching for the shower head. He washed the cum off your back, letting some of the water hit his chest as well. 

Somehow he managed to not get his hair wet, and as soon as he had cleaned you up, he let you continue your shower. Alone. 

Catching your breath, you showered as quickly as you could, exhausted from the recent events. When you got out of the bathroom, Geto was in sweats and a t-shirt, scrolling on his phone while sitting at his desk. You had your tower around your body. 

“Satoru asked if you and Sho wanted to get dinner together at the dining hall. What do you want me to tell him?” He questioned, wondering if you were too tired to do anything else. 

“Sure, I’m getting hungry.” Geto nodded, clicking his fingers on his phone before sending the message. “Do you think I can borrow a t-shirt? I forgot to bring a clean one.” 

Before you slept together, a question like this would be the norm. You often borrowed clothes from him, so you didn’t think it was an out-of-the-blue question. Yet, Geto looked at you with a bit of a sneer.

“Sure,” he said begrudgingly, tossing you a plain black shirt. You let the towel fall, redressing in your fresh clothes. Geto averted his eyes, keeping his vision fixed on his phone screen. 

You placed your dirty clothes in a little bag, as Geto started to get up, making his way to the door. You trailed behind him, pointing to your bag. “I’ll pick these up after dinner, is that okay?” You didn’t see why it wouldn’t be okay. 

“Whatever,” he grunted, “just don’t get used to leaving your shit at my place.” 

I’m not your boyfriend, his words from earlier rung in your ear, wondering why that meant that he needed to be so rude to you. You thought nothing would change, and you’d still be friends. 

You said nothing as you walked, until Geto’s fingers touched your neck. 

“I think you got a little something right here.” He snickered. 

Opening your phone camera, you catch a glimpse of the hickeys he’s left on your skin. Mouth falling open, you wonder how on earth you’re gonna cover it up. 

Shoving him slightly, you sneer. “What happened to keeping everything hush hush, hm? 

He nudges you slightly in return, “relax, can’t you just say it’s a burn from one of those heat tools?” 

“Right, like Shoko’s gonna believe that?” You whine, rolling your eyes. 

You’re nervous as you enter the dining hall, thinking about just what your friends would say. Shoko would know it wasn’t the result of a hair straightener, and you weren’t the best liar. 

So, when Gojo teased you about it, you made sure to tell the truth– well, part of the truth. 

“A guy gave it to me,” you smirk, feeling Geto’s leg kick you slightly under the table. 

“Oh yeah?” Geto’s eyebrows perked up. 

You nodded, “yup, he helped me move some boxes up the stairs cause the elevator was jammed.” You can feel the way Geto is staring daggers into you. You didn’t mind the lie though, afterall, your little fling was meant to be a secret. 

“I don’t remember this?” Your roommate interjected. 

“It’s because you weren’t there yet.” You prayed that no one could see through your facade, other than Geto, that is. 

“Hmph, whatever– just keep a sock on the door.” She said with a chuckle. 

You laughed alongside her, catching Geto’s eyes. He had an interesting smile on his face. He was amused by the way you were covering his tracks. Only the two of you knew where those marks came from, and they sure as hell weren’t from some stranger in your dorm building. 

“Lucky guy,” Geto said jokingly. Gojo hummed in agreement. “Are you gonna introduce us?” 

That’s when you kicked Geto’s leg in return, “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that.” God, you hated the way he teased you, although you figured there would be more of this in your near future.  You also realized that you would need to be more careful with your sneaking around. In order for the arrangement to work, your friendship needed to be a priority, if not, everything would break.

taglist: @bunnygorex @iwas-baby @coffee-and-geto @i2s2m @zeunys @murasakiyams @sukunasbigtiddiewifey @izluvsyou @goonforgeto @multistan-247 @chosoclub [open]

© all work belongs to nanamisbbygirl on tumblr, please do not plagiarize, repost or translate anywhere

[rea-grimm]

Siren Luffy

You loved walking on the beach. The fresh sea air, the sand beneath your feet, and the peace you found there.

You went early in the morning when the sun was rising above the horizon and sparkling on the sea's surface. You went exactly then, when the beach was still deserted.

There was a huge low tide, so you could wander further than you normally would. The rocky reef was now exposed, a path usually submerged and inaccessible due to the waves.

You crossed it and walked on. You looked around and realised there was no other path. As you walked further, you noticed a small island just a stone's throw away.

You decided to take advantage of the low tide, where the water was at most knee-deep, and headed towards the island. And even though it seemed like no one could get out of there, you saw three figures near the shore of the island.

As you approached, they noticed you. Two of the three figures disappeared into the water, and you didn't see them resurface anywhere. The last one dove under, but you could still see it in the clear, shallow water.

You reached the island when you noticed one of the figures peeking out at you. You saw black hair and curious eyes.

"Hi," you waved at him. He widened his eyes before immediately diving back under. It disappointed you a little, but you understood.

You reached the island when you noticed a head with black hair peeking out at you. You suspected it was the same boy.

You smiled at him and sat down in the sand. You watched him slowly swim closer to you until he stopped in the shallows, where he could probably walk on his hands. He sat there and finally surfaced up to his shoulders.

To your surprise, he was very kind and, most importantly, curious. Once he realised you weren't a threat, he was constantly at your heels. You found out his name was Luffy, and he was a siren with a beautiful red tail.

You immediately befriended Luffy, and his cheerful mood was very contagious, along with his curiosity, as he constantly asked you everything about your world.

Since then, you have visited him there regularly. You learned that he had two more brothers, but they didn't trust land dwellers.

You never saw Luffy swim in deep water. You would have expected him to wait for you in the shallows near your island, but the truth was you never saw him swim in deep water. You always found him in the shallows. This intrigued you, and you decided to ask him why.

"Why don't you swim further? Into the deep like your brothers?" you asked him one day as you sat on the shore, watching a group of dolphins swimming and jumping around.

"I... I can't swim," he replied awkwardly after a moment. He constantly heard from his brothers that he was the only siren who couldn't swim.

You thought he was just joking, but his sincerity was proof that he was serious. He even gave you a small demonstration, just flapping around like a fish out of water without moving from the spot.

"What if I helped you?" you suggested gently. As soon as your words reached the siren's ears, his eyes lit up with excitement.

"Are you serious?" he asked, reminding you of a small child promised a reward. You knew you wouldn't take your words back, so you smiled and nodded in agreement.

And so, your training began. First, you showed him on land how to use his arms and how to swim at least with his hands.

As you trained like this, you started to notice two heads always discreetly watching you from the water, or hidden behind a rock.

You knew that merfolk and sirens were forbidden from communicating with humans, which was why they were distrustful of you.

However, with each day you spent with Luffy and his swimming lessons, you felt like they were slowly getting closer to you. Every day, they watched you from a smaller and smaller distance.

"I don't know why he trusts you, but it is what it is," a black-haired merfolk with a tail colored like wildfire swam up to you during one of the lessons.

"He swims like a brick, doesn't he?" his blonde brother with a royal blue tail also swam up to you. "We tried to teach him so many times that we gave up."

These few sentences changed your entire relationship. It was as if a strong wall between you and Luffy's brothers broke down, and you finally clicked. Eventually, you found out they were great guys, just like Luffy.

Days passed, and you were still teaching Luffy to swim. He was doing a little better in the shallows, so you decided to try in deeper water. The siren tried, but he constantly sank like a brick. He tried his best, swimming with his arms, but it was in vain. Every time he went under, you had to pull him back to the surface.

"Again!" he shouted, so you repeated it several more times.

That same evening, as you were returning home, you got an idea and stopped at a store on the way. There, you bought an inflatable ring. It seemed like a great opportunity for him to stay afloat while learning to swim.

The next day, you brought him the ring. As soon as you took the box out on the beach, he was interested in what it was. His eyes lit up even more when you told him it was a gift for him.

"What is it?" he asked, watching with interest as you inflated the ring.

"It's for you," you smiled and handed him the inflated ring. The ring was shaped like a boat with a small painted pirate flag.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed excitedly and immediately put the ring around his waist. He hugged you enthusiastically before heading deeper into the water with the ring.

It was funny watching him try to swim with the ring. He even flipped over several times, with only his red tail and blue fin sticking out of the water. But he seemed to be having a lot of fun, and that's what mattered to you.

Ace and Sabo swam nearby, watching the entire inflatable ring scene. From a distance, you could clearly hear their laughter when Luffy flipped over, spun around and acted silly.

"That's the best thing I've ever seen!" Ace laughed excitedly, watching the ring from afar. Both of them immediately swam over to you.

"We want a ring too!" "We can't just let Luffy be the only one with such a cool gadget." "Please, please," both merfolk pleaded, and you couldn't say no to them.

The next day, you got them two more rings. One was black with flames for Ace, and the other was pale blue, almost transparent, with red, yellow, and orange glitter inside that reminded you of fire.

Both brothers were thrilled with them, and for a moment, they couldn't decide who would take which ring. But eventually, they agreed, you helped them inflate them, and without a word, they put them on and plunged in after Luffy.

You also bought one for yourself, in which you could comfortably sit and enjoy the water with them. Laughter and splashing filled the entire shallows. The merfolk tried to do somersaults over their rings but always ended up headfirst underwater. Every now and then, they would grab your ring and pull you across the water's surface.

When you finally returned to shore, you were all exhausted from your water games, but happy. Luffy sat next to you and rested his chin on his ring.

"Thanks for helping me," he told you, smiling warmly.

"It's nothing," you replied and smiled back. You felt that these moments, the laughter and closeness with Luffy and his brothers, were some of the most beautiful you had ever experienced.

One of the best moments, however, was when you were alone with Luffy. He often entertained you with his songs, which he made up himself and were usually completely absurd and incredibly funny. He sang about crabs that lost their legs, or a fish that danced with a crab. You laughed so much that your stomach hurt.

"You're unique," you told him once when he finished a song he called "Moron Song." It sounded like a story about sea creatures doing the silliest things – and you were convinced he had just made the whole thing up on the spot.

"I'm the best!" he grinned widely, looking completely satisfied with himself.

"Hmm, do you know any other songs? I mean, a real siren song that people only hear about," you asked him out of curiosity.

"Well... I guess so," he replied a little awkwardly after a moment's thought. Then he closed his eyes and began to sing. His voice was suddenly completely different – softer, melodic, full of emotions that struck you right in the heart.

The song was beautiful, as if the sea itself was speaking to you. Its tones were etched into your memory, and you kept humming it long after. You felt as if the song took you by the heart and pulled you closer to its source, even though it was almost impossible since you were sitting right next to him. When he finished, he opened his eyes and grinned at you.

"Did you like it?" he asked innocently, as if he didn't realise what he had just done.

"It was... amazing," you replied, still stunned. "Why didn't you sing something like that to me before?"

"Well, mostly I want you to laugh. But when you wanted something else... I tried it." Luffy shrugged. His answer was so simple and honest that it brought a smile to your face. 

Luffy Masterlist

[caitlynshousewife]

I NEED YOU

wc: 2.7k

smut!!

a/n: hey guys thank you so much for the support on my other fic!! feel free to request stuff in my asks as well, and once again not proofread so I apologize in advance for mistakes!!

A loud sigh emitted.

Caitlyn stares at her phone blankly, reading her wife’s texts. She shouldn’t be feeling like this.. like the love of her life was annoying. That wasn’t how marriage worked, but day by day she found herself yearning for more. Her wife just wasn’t making her as happy as she wanted to be. Her mind flooded with thoughts of you, and how you made her laugh more than anyone else had. How you were so pretty. How you-

She was jolted out of her daze when she heard her door click open and oh. You. Her lovely assistant. She quickly put her phone away and cleared her throat. Was her hair okay? Was her uniform disheveled? Goodness, she didn’t even have the chance to check. She’d rather be stabbed than look unprofessional in front of anyone. Especially you.

“Good evening.”

She spoke, offering you a tired smile. Nothing warm lied beneath it though and you were quick to notice. She had been down lately and you had avoided asking because although you were nosy, it was certainly none of your business.

Today would be different. It was a small change, but you could see the bags under her eyes and the exhaustion in her shoulders. Her upright stance seemed almost forced today. Those were all things she usually hid quite well.. so something must’ve gone on. Without thinking, you spoke.

“What’s the matter?”

You blurted out, yet to no avail. Caitlyn was very quiet about her personal life so you just got a flimsy excuse. You knew better. She wasn’t ‘tired’. Though you also knew better than continually asking, so you reluctantly let it go and began doing tasks.

Caitlyn’s eyes were on you like a hawk, watching your every move, your every breath from the moment you stepped into the office till the moment you were clocked out for the night. You were ravishing in her eyes. She had been admiring you silently, yet you didn’t seem to pick up the hints. Maybe it was better that way. She watched silently as you walked towards the door.. until something fell out of your purse.

“You dropped that.”

She spoke gently, nodding in gesture to your wallet that fell onto the ground. She watched as you bent over and picked it up, eyes roaming shamelessly. Paperwork. Focus on your paperwork. She gulped and exhaled shakily, pen darting down a whole lot of nothing as she pretended to work.

As she pretended like her cock didn’t throb at the sight of you bent over.

Once you left she adjusted her tie and exhaled once more, but much slower. The paperwork in front of her was long forgotten as she rested her head in her hands. Guilt began to rid her mind like a flood, thinking about the life she had built with her lover and how she was looking at another woman and getting a boner.

She was interrupted when her cock throbbed once more.

Shit, she couldn’t go on like this. She needed relief. She was quick to clock out and head home, being met with the sight of her wife. Not what she wanted.. but what else could she do? She was already trapped the moment her wife saw her boner. She forced a smile, watching her wife walk towards her seductively.

“All that for me?”

She spoke, her voice a velvet purr as her arms wrapped around Caitlyn’s neck.

“Yeah, I was thinking about you all day.”

Caitlyn spoke lowly. She didn’t get the chance to do much else before her and her wife were kissing. The kissing got more and more heated as the seconds went on, and eventually items were being knocked over and clothes were flying. Her wife’s back hit the bedsheets, hair sprawled around her like a halo.

Caitlyn loomed over her and took a moment to think. She still felt guilty.. but that was all pushed aside once she began fucking into her wife, her walls clenched around her cock. Caitlyn’s cock slid in and out of her wife's entrance, head lolled back and jaw hung open as she imagined it was you. She was loud too.

Groans and moans escaped her lips as she gripped the headboard, the guilt from before long forgotten.. or so she thought. It wasn’t the best idea to think of you while fucking someone else, because before she even realized.. your name escaped her lips.

She froze, staring down at her wife in horror.

“Uh.. wait, baby-”

Before she could even finish her sentence, her wife had pushed her away and bombarded her with questions while getting dressed. There was a lot of ‘who is she?’ and ‘are you cheating on me’. Rightfully so, yet Caitlyn’s heart dropped either way.

“Baby, wait, I can explain-”

She tried to retort as she clumsily got her boxers back on. She stumbled towards her wife with her hands out in a grasping motion.. only to be met with the door slammed in her face. She collapsed against the door, her whole body rested against it and her eyes squeezed shut in regret.

…

Today was even worse than yesterday. Caitlyn looked like she hadn’t got an ounce of sleep. Or maybe she got too much sleep. Her eyes were almost bloodshot with fatigue as her chin rested on her palm. You were worried now. Like.. really worried. This wasn't normal behavior for Caitlyn and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Caitlyn, you know you talk to me, right? I know-”

You started, but instantly got cut off by her snapping at you.

“I told you yesterday that I was fine, didn’t I?. Go start your shift.”

Her voice was low and authoritative, her icy eyes staring daggers into yours. She didn’t mean to snap at you.. of course not. But she did. She fucked up once again. She was just so overwhelmed with emotions and they poured out of her at the wrong moment. And what had she done? She had hurt you in the process.

Right before you were about to walk out she nearly skedaddled. She was up in a heartbeat, hand wrapping around your wrist. She was panting as her eyes were locked with yours, the room growing with tension.

“I’m sorry. That was unprofessional of me, and you didn’t deserve that. I could’ve found any other way to say it but instead I decided to be an ass.. I’m sorry. I know you just want to make sure I'm okay.. It’s just a lot right now.”

She whispered, eyes softened and pleading as she looked down at you. It was heartbreaking how much emotion was held in them, and you decided to forgive her. She’d never felt more relief.

“It’s my wife.. I.. I messed up and she left without a word.”

She continued whispering as if it wasn’t only you two in the room.

“Well I'm here if you need anything, okay? Always. I’m not just your assistant. I’m way more than that and I want to be able to help you out when you are feeling blue.”

You reassured, leaning in and wrapping your arms around her. Caitlyn melted like butter into your arms. It was everything she needed right now, and she would be forever grateful for this. For you. Once the embrace had ended, she watched you walk off with a smile on her face. All of her problems were forgotten about when you were in her presence.

She hadn’t seen you the rest of the day after that, because being a CEO means that sometimes you have to go to other companies for discussions and future plans. She had just missed you clocking out when she did end up returning to the building. It left her disappointed, but nonetheless she packed up and headed home.

The house was empty.

She sighed and laid down, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to process everything that had happened in the past two days. How everything had gone wrong and how much of an idiot she was for liking another woman while married. As her thoughts slowly drifted to you, she began thinking more and more about the interactions between you two.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the hug. The way your body felt against hers, the way you smelled, the way you were always so gentle towards her.. she felt a familiar squeeze in her pants. Not to mention the way the room felt when her eyes were locked with yours, the certain tension. It wouldn’t escape her mind.

She grabbed her phone and stared at her contacts, specifically yours. No. She shouldn’t do this. It crossed the line of professionalism, which she held dear to her character. She stared, and stared, and stared. It was 5 whole minutes of contemplating whether she should risk her career, before..

ring.. ring.. ring..

It echoed throughout your room, and you were surprised to see Caitlyn was calling. She usually never did, so this had to be important. There must’ve been a new rule placed at the CEO meeting she had been at, and she was calling to let you know. You picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

Your voice rang, and there was silence on the other line. You could hear her breathing, so you tried again.

“Caitlyn, can you he-”

Your eyes widened.

“I need you. I can’t sit here and pretend like I don't want you. Not anymore. Please, can I come over? Please.”

Was the first thing you heard when she finally decided to break her silence and speak to you. She was babbling like an idiot, her voice quivering and choked up. Your initial reaction was shock, but hearing how desperate she was.. It turned into something dangerous.

Now realistically you both knew this wasn’t right. You should’ve hung up the phone right there and never spoken about it again. But did you? Of course you didn’t, because who would pass up a chance with Piltover’s finest?

Certainly not you.

“Yeah? You need me?”

You cooed, voice teasing. She sobbed into the phone at your teasing tone, words more desperate than before.

“Please. Please, please, I need you so fucking bad. Please.”

She pleaded, and when her voice cracked.. so did your restraint.

“Come over.”

You almost didn’t even get to finish your sentence before there was a sound of the caller on the other line hanging up. You knew she was coming. You inhaled shakily and made your way to your bathroom, getting pretty for her. You fluffed up your hair, left a few of the buttons on your shirt unbuttoned to purposely show off your cleavage, and switched into booty shorts.

It was around 10 minutes later when you heard the knock on your door. You took your time walking over since you knew she was waiting impatiently.

You invited her in, yet the moment the door clicked shut.. she didn’t waste a second.

She pounced onto you and shoved you against the wall, her lips finding yours sloppily. She was groping and grabbing you everywhere. The buttons on your shirt hung on for dear life from her pure hunger.. but they unfortunately didn’t last long. Besides the sound of you two making out, the clattering of buttons from your shirt hitting the floor rang loud throughout the room.

Her hands were quick to tear your shirt down your shoulders and unclasp your bra before she finally pulled back to catch her breath.

She took a good look at you, stars practically floating in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful. Just like I imagined.”

She whispered breathlessly, her face contorting in pleasure as her cock twitched in her pants.

“Cmon.”

You purred, leading her upstairs to your bedroom.

She took her clothes off and pushed you back against the bed. She climbed on top of you, her lips finding your neck and hands grabbing your boobs. After she had, once again, damn near ripped your clothing in half when taking it off of your body, her fingers rubbed between your folds and you were soaked.

She toyed with your clit, watching your face as you squirmed underneath her fingers. Your back arched, and the sight was beautiful to her. What was more beautiful to her was how your expression looked, though. Your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw slack. Her breathing was shaky as she stroked herself a bit.

She was in a daze until she heard a gentle mewl, a sign that you wanted her to stop teasing and finally get on with it. She couldn’t blame you. Not at all. She aligned her tip and slowly pressed in, groaning lowly.

She started off slow, forehead resting against yours and eyes open as she watched your expression. As much as she wanted this, she didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. She held your hand and waited for the squeeze. Once she felt it, she picked up her pace. Her head fell onto your shoulder, pathetic whines and moans leaving her.

Her hands gripped at the pillowcase on the side of your head as she felt your nails clawing at her back, her hips angled to hit your g spot. It was perfect.. until she suddenly stopped. She manhandled you so that your face was down and your ass was up, her hand pressing flat down against the space between your shoulders to keep your face buried in the pillow.

“Sound so good for me”

She growled, hands moving to grip your hips as she pounded into you from behind. When she felt you clenching around her mixed with your mewls and cries, her eyes rolled back. It was comical how close she already was, considering the fact that it’d take her wife about 3x longer to get her to this point.

She leaned down and wrapped her hand around your throat, tugging you upwards so her breasts were pressed against your back. The new angle had you seeing heaven, Caitlyn’s grunts and growls right next to your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum, ohmygod-”

She spoke shakily, before a symphony of moans could be heard throughout the room as you both came. Her seed filled your insides as she panted heavily, before collapsing beside you. It was a few moments that you both took. You then forced yourself upwards, Caitlyn’s eyes widening in confusion.

What were you-

Oh.

She felt your hand wrap around her cock and exhaled shakily, her hands holding your hair back into a makeshift ponytail. When she felt your lips wrap around her tip she mewled, eyes squeezing shut. She had to physically hold herself back from bucking into your mouth and instead just let you take it inch by inch.

She felt your tongue swirl and keened, hands gripping the sheets and head falling back. As you bobbed your head and gagged once it hit the back of your throat, she moaned loudly and lost all restraint. Her hips began bucking, her cock hitting the back of your throat as she fucked into you.

With each thrust she felt like she got closer and closer to heaven, feeling your tongue and lips wrapped around her cock after all these months of yearning. She paused to give you a break, crying out as you stroked her cock. She felt a familiar coil within her, and she wasn’t sure how long she could hold it back.

“Tongue out.”

She ordered, but didn’t sound nearly as dominant as she wanted. Instead she sounded shaky and desperate. Once she saw your doe eyes looking up at her with your tongue out, the coil in her snapped. Her grunts turned into pathetic whines as ropes of her cum dribbled down your throat and onto your chin.

She used a nearby article of clothing to wipe your face off, before leaving to go put it in the washer. She caught herself smiling when she came back in your room to you wrapped up in your sheets. She laid down next to you and took a moment to catch her breath. Once she finally did so, she rolled towards you, her arms wrapping around you.

“Thank you for this.”

She whispered, mouth by your ear. Her hand found your hair, eyes shutting as her fingers raked gently through it.

------

a/n 2: apologies if i did terrible on the blowjob part guys 😭 i'm a gay woman and i've never had experience with a man SO IM SORRY IF ITS CHOPPY ASF GN. i tried to make it short and js get straight into throatfucking. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOYED! and again feel free to send in requests or asks!!

[yoiisa]

In honor of pride month, could you pretty please write any characters of your choice with a bi reader? It can be any scenario really, I just really love my bi girls <333

Tags: TW for sexual harassment in Reiners, because some people just lack basic human decency/common sense. coming out and fluff other than that!!

ofc!! bi girlies unite! i'm going to do this with characters from a bunch of shows: reo from bllk, mitsuya from tokyo rev, sakura from wbk, reiner from aot, megumi from jjk, and akaashi from haikyuu!!

➜ you kept the fact that you're into both genders hidden for a while from reo mikage ➜ after all, he comes from a very prestigious family (likely also conservative), and didn't know how he'd take to dating someone part of the LGBTQ community ➜ however, once you met nagi, any worries about how open he was to that community were swiftly dismissed ➜ it got to the point where you genuinely considered whether or not your boyfriend would be happier just being with the white-haired boy ➜ you came out to both of them at the same time, and they were chill with it!! before proceeding to promptly take up all of each other's attention again . . .

"What's all that?" Nagi asks, pointing across the street as he rests his head on the table. You, Reo, and Nagi are on a cafe date (or it was supposed to only be you and Reo but Nagi just tagged along). Your boyfriend and you look over to see a store across the street hanging up a pride flag in the window. "Why're they hanging that up now?" Nagi asks. "Oh, it's pride month," Reo says. When Nagi gives him a blank look, Reo chuckles, "You know, gay people and trans people and such." Nagi hums as Reo pats his head. "They like rainbows?" "Nagi," you groan, "that's just the flag. It represents the community." Nagi nods and hums again, tracing his finger along the wood of the table. "Do we know anyone who's part of that?" Reo starts to shake his head, still patting Nagi on the head, but when you bristle, they both look up at you. They stare you expectantly and you sigh. Well, it's now or never. Hopefully, if they get upset, at least you're in public so someone can step in. "Well, I am," you say softly. " . . . Gay means that you like the same gender, but you're dating Reo," Nagi points out. You force out a laugh and say, "There's multiple kinds of sexualities. I'm bisexual, which means I like boys and girls dude. I can like Reo." You force your gaze over to Reo, but before he can say anything, the food comes. The waitress sets three coffee cups and the various pastries you guys ordered in front of you. Reo wastes no time digging in and you're left frozen in panic in your seat. Eventually, you clear your throat. "Reo?" "Hmm?" "Are . . . you okay with that?" "Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, his purple eyes wide and curious. "I don't care. As long as you're not breaking up with me over it." "Why would I break up with you over it?" you ask, your voice a little tight. "I just . . . I thought you might." "Why would I break up with you?" Reo chuckles. "That's stupid," Nagi chirps in, lifting his head. "Breaking up would be such a hassle at the end of the day. Like feeding myself. Reo, food." You watch as Reo takes a teaspoon and feeds Nagi some cake Nagi licks some of the whipped cream off his lips. The gesture is so tender and intimate, you can't help but somehow feel like you're intruding on them, instead of Nagi doing it to you. Seriously. Why were you so worried in the first place?

➜ mitsuya takashi is a very observant man, so he knew already that you were into both genders long before you came to him with the news ➜ he never brings it up though, so when he's so nonchalant about the news, you don't know if you should be happy that he doesn't care or offended that he clocked you so fast ➜ ultimately though, the happiness wins

"I'm bi," you blurt out one day. The two of you are in the park watching his sisters play. You're leaning on his shoulder, when suddenly the urge to admit it just arose. It could've ruined the moment, for sure, but you felt even worse keeping this a secret. Truthfully, you should've told him from the very beginning, but you were just so worried. After all, Mitsuya is surrounded by macho manly men all the time. However, Mitsuya, without missing a beat, just says, "I know. It's all good." You lift your head from his shoulder and look over at him in shock. "What do you mean you know?" "My love," he chuckles, patting your head and pulling you back onto his shoulder, "whenever we go anywhere, you're always staring at pretty girls that walk by. At first I thought you were just trying to get fashion inspo or something, but eventually I put two and two together real quick." "And . . . you're not mad or anything?" "Why would I be mad?" Mitsuya asks, kissing your forehead. "As long as you're with me, you're my girl after all." You nod and relax into him. Luna and Mana come running over and hands the two of your flowers they picked, squealing and grinning like the sun and stars personified. "Can you push us on the swings?" Luna asks, Mana bouncing besides her in excitement. "Sure," Mitsuya says, standing up. You link hands and head towards the swings, the two little girls already leaps and bounds ahead of you. As you walk though, suddenly a thought occurs to you. "Wait, pretty girls?" you ask, looking over at Mitsuya. "Are you checking them out too?" He's silent for a moment, his face going blank and his smile growing stiff, before he drops your hand and runs after his sisters. "Takashi, get back here this instant!"

➜ ahhh yes, sakura haruka. his romance sensor is absolutely off the charts with you ➜ he gets flustered enough with people who are only attracted to one gender, whether they're gay or straight ➜ but suddenly he finds out that someone can be attracted to both at the same time! and he just doesn't know what to do with himself ➜ he will actively ask you if you find a girl attractive in public (in her earshot), and you're like "dude you're my boyfriend, relax. i only have eyes for you." ➜ he's going to be so incredibly overstimulated by how badly he's getting flustered that he just turns to goop on the floor. it's so cute

Sakura had been red as a tomato for the entire day. "Haru, relax," you giggle, tuck some of his longer hair behind his ear. "I am," he says stiffly. "Babe, you're cutting off circulation in my hand." He scoffs and releases his tight grip on your hand, looking away shyly. You sigh and pinch his cheek. "What's wrong?" you asks, leaning up against him. Sakura's silent for a moment, before dragging you to the side of the sidewalk. He leans both of you against a wall of a store and starts point at people. "Do you think they're hot?" "What?" "That girl," he says. "Oh. Umm, yeah she's pretty." "What about him?" "I mean, in a certain light, I suppose." "Okay, and what about that-" "Haruka, what are you doing?" "Look around!" Sakura says. "Everyone's hot!" You blink in surprise, before cracking up. "Oh my god! You're little romance sensor is going off isn't it?" "It's not and don't call it that stupid name!" "Aww, but it's cute!" you respond, pointing at him and dying of laughter. "Don't laugh this isn't funny!" he cries, burying his face in his hands. You shake your head and kiss the backs of his hands. You gently grasp his wrists and lower them from his face. "You wanna know a secret?" you ask. Sakura is silent for a moment before nodding. You grin and lean in close to his ear, whispering softly, "I think you're the hottest person here." You swear, he's blushing so much you can see steam rising from his head.

➜ reiner braun's gaydar is honestly the worst thing in the world ➜ after all, this man saw ymir and historia openly flirting in front of him and still insisted that he had a chance with the latter T-T ➜ he's not mean about the fact that you're attracted to both genders, he's more clueless than anything ➜ but if someone is rude to you, he's the first person to come to your defense

You're sitting at a bar, when your senses start going haywire. Some sleazy ass man is scooting into the seat next to you, a smug smile on his face. "Hey, pretty," he says. " . . . hi." "I know you, you're on the board of the GSA here right?" he asks. You straighten up a little and give him your full attention. Alarm bells are still ringing in your head, but you try to keep them relatively quiet for now. "Yes, why?" "Are you into girls by any chance?" he asks and now you seriously are getting bad vibes. " . . . Yes. I'm bisexual. Why?" "Great!" he exclaims and you flinch. He puts his hands up in surrender and says, "Woah woah, it's nothing bad. I was just wondering if you'd be into a three way by chance." Your brain completely short circuits. "I'm- I'm sorry?" "Me and my girl over there," you glance in the direction of a girl who looks over. She appears nervous before giving you an apologetic smile. You glance back at the boy as he continues, "were thinking about having a threesome. You know, happy pride and all! Anyways, I'm not having sex with another boy, that's for sure, but I'd love to have two girls at the same time-" "I'm not interested, fuck off," you say turning away. "Aww come on," he groans, his hand coming onto your bicep. "It'd be fun~" "I said no," you try to keep your voice firm, but he starts squeezing your bicep and you start getting worried. "Let go." "Look-" "She said let go," a familiar voice says from behind you. The man drops his hand from your arm and you both look over your shoulder to find Reiner, his face dark. "Fuck off. Now." "Uhh . . . y-yeah sure! Sorry about that! Bye!" Before he can scurry off, Reiner grabs his arm and pulls him close. He leans in and whispers, "And stop making your girlfriend do things she clearly doesn't want to." The boy looks like he's about to pass out as he races away. You turn to look at your boyfriend, who still has an air of annoyance about him. "I can't believe some people," he grumbles, before sliding into the seat next to you. "Are you okay?" You nod and kiss the tip of his nose. Later, a friend of yours who knew that girl tells you they broke up and all you can do is smile and nod in approval.

➜ megumi fushiguro cares because now he becomes paranoid of the whole new side of competition ➜ he's very protective of the people he loves, and he can get jealous kinda easily ➜ now that he knows he has to fend off girls as well as guys? oh lord ➜ expect him to become a lot more pouty on the main ➜ it's the cutest thing ever

"Megumi," you groan, "stop staring at Maki like that." "Don't worry, I'm used to it," Maki pats your head and walks off. You're not though. Once the older girl is out of earshot you turn and glare at your boyfriend. "If I knew you were going to act like this, I'd never have told you at all." Megumi bristles before shaking his head. "It's . . . ugh, look. It's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust them!" "Seriously?" "Yes! I mean look at you," Megumi says, blushing. The two of you stare at one another for a silent beat, before you laugh and gently punch him in the arm. "Megumi~" you tease, "you think I'm that pretty?" "Shut up," he groans into his hands. "I mean, you think I'm so pretty people will be falling for me left and right," you ask while batting your lashes. "You-" "You think, I'm so pretty that I'm just going to have all the guys and girls in the world at my feet!" you squeal. He grabs you and pulls your back flush against his chest. You squeak and giggle as he puts you into a make-shift chokehold. One hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling your irrepressible giggles. "I think that you're going to annoy the world into loving you just for you to shut up," he grumbles. "That includes you, doesn't it?" you ask. Megumi doesn't say anything, just buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lick the palm of his hand and he moves it, wiping it off on your shirt. You turn your head and kiss his cheek. "Hmm, I can't help it you know," you say smugly, "if the world falls for me with one look in my pretty eyes." "Shut up," he kisses the juncture of your shoulder and neck. "Hey, that tickles." "I know." The two of you stay standing like that for a while, your head leaning back to rest on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The only person in the world I'll fall for back is you." You'll never see it, but you can feel his lips pull into a smile against your skin.

➜ akaashi keiji is a lot like mitsuya, wherein he already knows your sexuality ➜ unlike mitsuya though, he doesn't hide his knowledge from you, but instead comes up to you outright ➜ he attends pride parades with you whenever he gets the chance ➜ he enjoys being knowledgeable about the community as well, so he researches it a lot in his free time ➜ it actually leads him to start discovering his own sexuality. he doesn't put any labels on it, but you both know he isn't straight. it just kinda hangs in the air between you and you leave it at that

Akaashi is being visually assaulted right now. The sun is reflecting off of every single flag in the vicinity and it doesn't help the fact that a lot of people are decked out in glittery/shiny attire. The saturation is way too high right now. Although, nothing here is burning brighter than the smile on your face. You got face paint earlier, and someone made a flower on your cheek with blue, pink, and purple petals. That and your makeup looks flawless and your skin is glowing. You look so in your element and comfortable with the world right now. The two of you keep your hands linked tight together as you walk through the streets, music blasting from someone's speakers and the world turning into a kaleidoscope as he breathes. It's a completely new environment for Akaashi, but he doesn't feel out of place strangely. In fact, he's never felt more secure, except maybe when he's playing volleyball. A few stalls have been set up throughout the city with food and merchandise. Eventually, your feet grow tired, and the two of you find a bench to sit on. You guys get some takoyaki to split and people watch, your head on his shoulder as strangers pass you by. "Are you having fun?" you ask after swallowing another bite. "Yeah," Akaashi says, resting his head on yours. "It's just . . . so much more crowded than I realized. I guess I didn't know this many people were living in this community near us." "Well some of them probably came from other places to attend the parade," you say, cracking open a soda. "Everyone's probably not from here." "Still." "I know," you smile. You turn to him and kiss his cheek, "Thank you for coming with me today." He stares into your eyes and nods, patting your head. "Thank you for showing me this." As the celebration ends and the two of you start the journey home, he squeezes your hand. "What if I'm also . . . something?" You look over at him and quirk your head. "Do you know what kind of something?" He shakes his head and falls silent for another moment. "Just something not straight." You giggle at his wording and lean up against him. "Then you're something not straight." You kiss his cheek and sigh. "No need for any rush. We'll figure it out slowly, one step at a time." He nods and kisses your forehead.

a/n: hey y'all i've crawled out of my hole!! i almost forgot to do akaashi in this lol (ᵕ—ᴗ—) but that's done!

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie was terrifying. 

Elliot had known the guy for a few years now, ever since Eddie had stepped into the Spellbound Bar with big eyes and a wild grin. The guy hailed from some small ass town in Indiana, but it was clear to see that he hadn’t hidden much of himself over there. 

So many kids blew into California freshly freed from their families, still dressed in clothes their old life had forced them to wear. They always had a sort of fragile, reborn look to them that made all the elder queers reach out their hands, welcome them in. 

Eddie, whose last name changed on a daily basis (his drivers license listed it as ‘Henderson’ but there were rumors that it too, was fake)  had too large of a wardrobe for all of it to be recently purchased, and moved too comfortably in clothes for them to be new to him. 

The guy wasn’t mean. His temperment wasn’t why he was terrifying, really, though the constant high energy he whirlwinded around the bar with often grew too much for some of their quieter regulars. 

No it was all the shit he casually talked about. How he took things in stride, and said he had to, given he used to be the president of a D&D club he named Hellfire. 

(Hellfire. In small town America. The sheer fucking balls on this dude.) 

He regaled them all with tales of his lost sheep and the fights he had with his high school principal long before Angel, the bar owner, agreed to take him on as a busboy--then bar back, then bartender, all in rapid succession.

Always winking as he spun a story about how he was caught flagging once from an out of towner stopping by for gas, the story somehow darkly hilarious. 

A lot of people didn’t like southern California, or rather, not the way they thought they would at least, but Eddie took to it like a duck to water. There was no denying the man belonged here, in a way he hadn’t truly belonged anywhere else. 

Elliot had been the one to help him find a local metal band. He himself was one of those quieter regulars (and not a musician let alone a metalhead) but he knew people. Could make some connections.

It helped that Elliot did play D&D, and was quick to pull Eddie into his orbit that way. Get him connected to others who loved the game like the metalhead clearly did. 

And damn, could Eddie DM.

It was here though, that Elliot first picked up that Eddie’s bluster wasn’t just that. 

Watched as his new friend's eyes went hard and flat when the Vecna campaign was mentioned, shut it down with such force that it left the table briefly stunned by the sheer venom in his voice. 

How he flinched once, hands reaching for the bat he’d hammered nails into under the bar when electricity had stuttered in a heatwave, lights flickering in the bar. 

(The bat itself, and the way Eddie had simply looked at the one Spellbound had as their only defense measure and declared it “fucking useless” had not helped the rough, survivalistic story they were all putting together.) 

Winter rolled back round to spring and then summer and whispers about his home life, about how he had to survive with all the rural cow farmers looking and acting like he did, how he obviously knew how to fight was practically old news by the time he first showed up in a cropped shirt. 

The scars that decorated his stomach still caught the attention of everyone at the bar, and more than once their little D&D group had tried to map out the shape of them, if only to figure out what the hell could cause such a dramatic injury. 

No one ever quite succeeded, but then, no one was brave enough to ask the man himself. 

What it did do, was cement the idea in everyone’s heads. 

Eddie Henderson/Buckley/Sinclair/Wheeler/and one time even Walmart--was a great guy, and one who could absolutely beat the shit out of almost everyone in the bar, hands down. 

Nothing he did over the years ever challenged that. If anything, Eddie only cemented it further, which is the only reason Elliot didn’t bolt the second the two of them came home from a shift and found a stranger in front of their door. 

Elliot, 5’4, formerly named Eleanor and still not on T despite making every clawing attempt towards it, wasn’t much of a match for an enraged, pissed off jock. 

But Eddie was. 

xXx 

The jock was the straightest looking man Elliot had ever laid eyes on. 

Bruises covered half his face and one eye, and he sported a nose that had clearly been recently bloodied. Judging from the scrapes on the back of his hands he hadn’t gotten them willingly--or maybe was just giving as good as he got. 

He was walking wildly back and forth in front of their garage, hands opening and closing, a look in his eyes that spoke of someone not entirely in control as he muttered audibly to himself. 

Given the preppy polo shirt, expensive looking shorts and shoes that practically shined, they were so new, he was comically out of place, even with the entire homicidal aura he had going on. 

(Given the descriptions of the assholes who had attacked Angel only four nights ago on their walk home, Elliot could only see the man as a monster preparing to attack.) 

He slammed to a stop, breath in his throat, entirely unsure of what to do.

Thankfully, Eddie was right behind him. 

Eddie, who could probably beat this guy and six others bloody. Eddie who carried a knife. Eddie who terrified Elliot sometimes, but not the same way the idea of getting hate crimed did, Eddie who--

Who was coming up besides Elliot, looking both alarmed and confused and not at all challenging the homicidal rich boy. 

“Steve!?” Eddie said, voice high and surprised.

They both watched as the figure spun to face them, crazed look crumbling down to something Elliot couldn’t read. 

“Hey.” The supposed Steve said, rather miserably, shoulders hunched right before Eddie shot forward, hands hovering in the air like he wanted to touch but didn’t know where to start. 

“What the hell Harrington--did you lose another fight!?”

“I don’t lose every fight you know.” Steve snarked back, sounding exactly like every rich snob Elliot’s ever encountered. 

It’d get his back up, except Steve’s entire body was curving towards Eddie in obvious relief. “Henderson exaggerates.” 

Which was doubly confusing, given Eddie was supposedly a Henderson.

“Sorry for dropping by like this. Wasn’t close to anyone else, so I didn't know where else to go.” Steve continued, as Eddie finally stopped waving his hands around and instead began herding Steve through the door and to the kitchen. 

Confused, Elliot followed.

(What the fuck else was he supposed to do?) 

“I thought you were on a cruise?”  Eddie challenged, sounding more and more normal as he and Steve traded banter. 

“I was. Clearly, I’m not anymore.” 

“Steve.” Eddie said, voice almost pleading as he patted the only empty spot on their counter, before turning to fish a bag of peas out of the fridge. 

(Had Elliot ever heard him plead like that? Had he thought Eddie even capable?) 

Steve jumped up on it like a dog that had been asked to perform a trick, while Elliot hovered in the living room, watching it all go down across the little half wall that separated the two spaces. 

“Did I just see pop tarts in your freezer?” Steve asked instead of answering. 

“Don’t distract me, you dick. Put this on your face.” 

And so they went, instantly and immediately comfortable, two people who clearly had known each other for a long time trading insults and catching up while Eddie tried unsuccessfully to pull what happened out of Steve via an increasing number of ridiculous nicknames. 

He’d worked his way past ‘Stevie’ and was well on his way to calling the stranger things like ‘big boy’ by the time Anders came home from her shift at the record store. 

Swaned through various other, mildly incriminating nicknames until he saw something that made him start cursing, at which point he rapidly fell down the nickname rabbit hole, landing at a final; 

“Come on Sweetheart, you look like someone tried to kill you! Just tell me what happened!”

Jake, who had just waltzed in the front door, blinked wildly. 

“Eddie has a guest.” Anders informed him, handing their roommate an open beer from the pile she’d put on the floor as he slammed to a halt. 

Took in their intruder so starkly out of place on the kitchen counter, nestled between twin pride flags and a poster for Eddie’s band like a misplaced catalog model.

“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Jake said flatly, as Steve grumbled something lowly at their fearless DM, and Eddie flicked his nose in retaliation. 

"He's from Indiana," Elliot offered, the closest thing to an explanation he had. "Same town as Eddie."

He hesitated, then added, "I think."

It was all he’d managed to piece together, the conversation had been all over the place.

“Steven Madonna Harrington,” Eddie snapped finally, spinning to pin his guest with a glare, “you either tell me what happened or I’m calling Robin.” 

‘Madonna?’ Anders mouthed at Elliot, as if that was the weirdest part of this entire situation. 

Steve kicked at Eddie lightly. “She has finals this week you jerk.”

Eddie slammed both his hands down on the counter, one on either side of Steve’s hips, staring up challengingly. 

It put him almost directly in between Steve’s legs, bringing their faces intimately close together. 

“And she’s gonna lose her shit when she finds out her platonic with a capital P soulmate ditched off that family cruise he’s been dreading for months, looking like he decided to take up backyard boxing, and then came to my place instead of calling her first--” 

“Fine! Fine, you underhanded asshole. Tommy was on that stupid Alaska cruise. Decided he wanted to reconnect.” 

“Hagan did all this!?” 

“Oh no, this is from my dad.” Steve motioned to himself, a grim sort of amusement curling around the words. “He caught me and Tommy making out. Decided to have a little chat about how he disapproved.” 

“That is awful and we are returning to it immediately but first--Steve. Babe.” Eddie stared at him in clear dismay. “Tommy Hagan?”

Another eye roll, this one earning a wince from Steve as it agitated his bruises. “Not the time Mun--” 

Eddie coughed loudly right over the rest of whatever Steve was about to say, getting a weird look from everyone around him. 

“Henderson.” Eddie corrected softly. “They changed it to Henderson after all the uh.” He paused, as though trying to recall the word he wanted. Went with; “Earthquake.” 

That got some glee out of Steve. 

“You picked Dustin’s last name? Does he know?” 

“Fuck no dude, he’d never shut up about it.” Eddie put a hand on Steve’s thigh, jostling it lightly. “We’re not talking about me right now though. Your dad disowned you?”

“Supposedly.” Steve shrugged, like this was normal and not a huge ordeal. “I’ll check on my credit cards tomorrow, see if he’s serious.” 

Eddie’s stare was growing flat, fast. “Even if he isn’t, he beat the shit out of you.” 

“Yeah, well, everyone kinda does, I guess it was just his turn.” 

“Steve.”

“I’m kidding!” Then, in a far more serious tone; ‘I am sorry about crashing in like this. I can get out of your hair.” 

Eddie was already waiving a hand dismissively, head shaking, but Steve plowed forward anyway. 

“I mean it. The cruise stopped at a port near here and I needed to get off it before my dad decided disowning me and throwing all my shit over the rails weren’t enough.” 

Steve finally looked up, taking in all the people who were watching this play out like a TV sitcom. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your game night.” 

“There’s no game, they all live here.” He turned and glared, and got one embarrassed face and two entirely unapologetic ones in return. “They’re just enjoying the show.

‘It’s getting a five star rating so far.” Anders snarked at him. “Might lose a star, if one of the main actors keeps breaking the fourth wall, though.” 

Eddie flipped her off. 

“You’re not going anywhere looking like this. You are at minimum, staying here for the rest of the weekend.” 

“If you’re sure.” Steve said hesitantly. To the group at large, he added; “And no one minds me taking the couch.” 

“The couch is a shared communal space.” Eddie shot back instantly, before anyone else could protest. “You’re staying in my room.” 

“Oh.” Steve said, like he’d half expected, wanted even, Eddie to make that offer. “Okay.” 

“I am so confused right now.” Anders muttered, and Elliot could only nod along because, well. 

Yeah. 

Him too. 

“Come on, let’s get your stuff, I’ll show you around. Keep the peas on your face.”

“Eds, man, I don’t have any stuff. I was lucky to escape with my wallet.” Steve vollied, but hopped off the counter anyway, following Eddie as he was led up the stairs, towards the metalheads room. 

“This is the weirdest day of my life.” Jake announced when they’d disappeared. 

“It’s not over yet.” Anders said, cracking open another beer.  “Give it a bit.” 

“How on earth could this get any weirder?” Elliot muttered. 

“Well thanks Elliot.” Anders told him flatly. ‘If it wasn’t guaranteed before, it is now.” 

“How!?”

“She’s right bud, you challenged the fates.” Jake responded. “We’re in for it now.” 

(Given Steve never moved back out, they absolutely were.) 

Bonus

“You know.” Eddie said, and his voice was quiet but the house was fucking ancient and not in the best of shape, and thus Elliot heard him loud and clear through their shared wall. “I kiss a lot better than Tommy Hagan.”

“Not letting that one go anytime soon, huh?” Steve rumbled back. 

“I’m just saying! If you’re going to get disowned for a kiss, it should be a damn good one and not whatever limp noodle bullshit Hagan does. I saw him with Carol, he kisses like a puffer fish.” 

A low snicker, followed by; “He did kinda kiss like a fish.”

“See!?” Vindicated, Eddie grew louder in volume. “I could give you a kiss that would actually be worth all this shit! A proper kiss!” 

“You offering, Munson?”

“Well if the good knight Sir Harrington doth allow it--”

An ‘mmph!’ noise that took a moment for Elliot to translate as Steve kissing Eddie, which made this entire fucking day suddenly make a whole lot more sense. 

“If you stop all the nerd talk we can take it beyond a kiss.” 

“I can do that.” Eddie said, voice breathless. “I can definitely do that.” 

“Good.” 

Elliot snorted in amusement, before reality of their paper thin shared wall and the fact he was going to hear fucking everything asserted itself. 

He decided to go sleep on the couch.

[monserelates]

TETHERED ; James Potter

Part V of the Series Dumb Decisions

⇨ summary: James and Y/N keep ignoring eachother. Will they finally sor tit out? or will they just let it linger, once again?

⇨ warnings/notes: apologetic james, use of y/n, curse words, minor inconsistencies ?),mild angst, broken bond, stubborn!reader, denial, mutual pining, platonic marauders x reader shared sensations, platonic friendships, magnetic bond effects, chaotic Marauders, idk what elsee

⇨ word count: 2.9k

It’s cold for May.

You’re outside, half-shivering under your cloak, arms tucked around your knees as the wind rolls off the lake in slow, spiteful bursts. The stone wall you’re sitting on is rough beneath you. The sky’s a pale, cloudless blue, but it might as well be grey.

You came out here to be alone. Naturally, that meant half of Gryffindor followed.

They’re scattered on the grass and benches nearby, sprawled out with textbooks and half-finished essays and half-hearted jokes. It’s an accidental gathering—a lazy Sunday kind of quiet—but there’s tension thick in the space between you and him. Like smoke that never quite clears.

Sirius is lying flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, letting the sun hit his face. Remus is reading, obviously, legs crossed like he’s meditating instead of just trying to block out the awkward. Peter is chewing on his quill, trying to look casual, and failing.

Lily’s beside you on the wall, head tilted toward her parchment, though her eyes keep flicking up toward James. Dorcas and Marlene are sharing a Chocolate Frog and watching the chaos with matching unimpressed expressions.

James has tried talking to you, but every time you look at him you can't help but wanting to crawl into a ditch.

He’s sitting on the grass near Remus, trying to look relaxed, but he keeps drumming his fingers on his knee. Every once in a while, he glances your way—just once, just barely—and then looks away so fast you wonder if you imagined it.

You didn’t.

The others are pretending not to notice. Badly.

“So,” Marlene drawls, stretching her legs out dramatically, “anyone else miss the days when people just hexed each other instead of ignoring each other to death?”

Sirius snorts.

“Speak for yourself, McKinnon. I’ve missed a hex or two to the face. Clears the sinuses.”

Remus doesn’t look up.

“She’s talking about them, Pads.”

There it is.

No one says your name. No one says his. But suddenly, the wind isn’t the only thing cold.

Lily shifts beside you. You can feel her wanting to say something. She doesn’t.

Dorcas pops the last bit of the Chocolate Frog in her mouth.

“We should start a pool. Who caves first. Ten Galleons on the dramatic one.”

“Which one’s that?” Peter asks.

“Exactly.”

You pull your cloak tighter. You don’t say anything.

James is still drumming. Tap. Tap. Tap. Like maybe if he keeps moving, he won’t have to feel the silence. Or the space between you.

Or the fact that now that the bond is gone, there’s nothing forcing you together. Nothing making you share thoughts, or dreams, or warmth in the middle of the night. There’s no more magic. Just the awkward, heavy ache of what’s left behind.

“You know,” Sirius finally says, pushing himself up on his elbows, “it’s kind of funny. You two were insufferable when you were bonded. Now you’re just insufferable separately.”

James throws a twig at him. It doesn’t help.

Okay, now you really want to crawl into a ditch.

Marlene turns her gaze on you. It’s sharp, but not unkind.

“You can keep pretending nothing happened, love. Doesn’t make it true.”

You stare straight ahead. At the lake. At the shimmer of sun on water. Anywhere but him.

“It wasn’t the bond,” Lily says softly.

You blink. “What?”

She finally looks at you fully. Calm. Honest. Lily.

“Whatever you’re trying to convince yourself. That it was just magic. That it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t the bond. That was just the excuse.”

And across the circle, like you’re tethered by more than magic, James says—quietly, almost to himself—

“I thought it’d go away when it broke.”

You look up. Meet his eyes for the first time in days.

He looks wrecked. Not in the tired, casual, Quidditch-practice way. In the way that says I broke something I can’t fix.

“It didn’t,” he adds, voice barely above the wind. “It didn’t go away.”

No one says anything. Even Sirius shuts up.

The silence between you hums. Different this time. Not dead. Not broken.

Waiting.

You clear your throat, "Um... so, I just remembered I had to meet um- Mary, to help her with a Transfiguration exam?" You said, even though it came out more like a question. "So.. I'll see you guys later." You offered them a warm smile and ignored James' gaze on you.

As you leave, Sirius sighs. "For Merlin's sake, this is embelating to watch."

"Excruciating, Padfoot, Excruciating." Remus corrects.

..

You should’ve known McGonagall would choose violence today.

You walk into Transfiguration ten minutes early, quill behind your ear, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach’s been in a weird knot since the lake. Since him. Since that look. Since those words.

It didn’t go away.

You sit beside Lily like always. James is on the opposite end of the room, slouched beside Sirius, sketching absently on the edge of his notes.

The lesson is fast—McGonagall isn’t in the mood to coddle anyone. She gives a sharp explanation about conjuration under magical stress and then turns to the class like a general issuing orders.

“Pair up. You’ll be working on cross-wand synchronization. The spell won’t work if you’re not in sync. Choose wisely—your mark depends on it.”

Half the room starts scrambling. You reach for Lily’s arm automatically, but she’s already standing—moving toward Dorcas.

And then McGonagall says your name.

“Miss Y/L/N, you’ll be working with Potter.”

The air leaves your lungs.

What. The. Fuck.

You freeze. Your neck turns before your body does. James is already standing. Not smug. Not even surprised. Just… resigned. He looks at McGonagall like he’s considering asking for someone else, but he doesn’t.

You want to. But your legs move anyway.

The room fades to a distant blur as you step toward him. He gives you a small nod like it’s all fine. It’s not fine.

You take your place beside him. Wands out. Eyes anywhere but each other.

“Remember,” McGonagall says, arms folded, “this spell is nearly impossible unless you’re attuned to one another. Communicate. Adjust. And don’t explode anything. Again.”

She walks away.

You and James are left in a bubble of silence.

Your fingers brush your wand. His jaw is tight.

“We should probably—” “I’ll start—”

You speak at the same time. Of course you do. You both go quiet again.

He gives you a tiny, crooked smile. “Still in sync, I guess.”

You glare at him. “Don’t.”

He straightens. The smile drops. “Right. Sorry.”

You aim your wand at the target. It’s a simple transfiguration: two charms fired in perfect sequence, meant to turn a stone into a living flower. But it only works if you move as one.

You breathe. Try to clear your mind.

“On three,” you mutter.

He nods. “One. Two—”

The spell hits too early. Off-beat. The stone rattles, glows blue, and then explodes into dust.

You take a step back, coughing, waving away the smoke.

“Brilliant,” you snap. “Great work.”

“You rushed it,” he fires back.

“No. You did.”

“You weren’t even looking at me!”

“Why would I?”

Your voices are getting louder. Students are turning. McGonagall is watching from across the room.

James exhales harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to happen that way, alright?”

You cross your arms. “The kiss or whatever the fuck that was at the common room?”

He winces like you struck him. “I was drunk.”

“So was I. And I still managed not to shatter someone.”

He’s silent.

The stone resets. Neither of you moves.

“You used to talk to me,” he says finally, voice low. “Even when we hated each other. You still talked to me.”

You clench your jaw. “We weren’t pretending back then.”

He flinches. “I wasn’t pretending.”

Silence.

Heavy. Choking.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. You can feel your magic buzzing at your fingertips, wild and unbalanced. The way it used to when he was too close. When the bond got too loud.

But now there’s nothing magical between you. No forced connection. No spell pushing you together.

Just this. Whatever this is.

You turn toward the stone again. Raise your wand.

“One more time.”

He nods. Raises his too.

“One. Two. Three.”

This time, the spell is perfect.

the moment the flower blooms on the stone, soft and luminous and fucking perfect — you feel your lungs stop working.

You don’t say anything. You just whisper, “Excuse me,” like it’s a spell, like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart. And you walk out. Fast. Too fast. Like if you don’t leave, you’ll unravel right there.

You don’t hear your friends call after you. You don’t see Lily lurch to step forward. You only hear him.

“Y/N—”

You keep going.

Through the courtyard, through the dusk-streaked corridors, down into the gardens where it’s quiet and shadowed and sharp. Where no one can see you fall apart.

But he follows. Of course he does.

“Y/N, stop—please just—stop.”

You do.

Not for him. For yourself. Because your knees feel like they might give out otherwise.

You spin around, chest heaving.

“Why are you here?”

Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own. It’s raw. Cracked open. Echoing off the stone like something broken.

James slows. There’s panic in his eyes. Not panic like "Oh no she’s mad." Panic like 'I think I’ve ruined everything I love.'

“Because you left.”

“Yeah, I tend to do that after being brutally emotionally disemboweled by someone I trusted.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” you say, voice sharper now. “Don’t do the I didn’t mean to thing. You did mean it, or you wouldn’t have let it happen.”

He flinches. And good. He should.

“I told you I didn’t want to lose you,” he says.

You laugh, hollow. “You keep saying that. Like it changes the fact that you did.”

He’s quiet again.

“I didn’t think the bond was real,” he says finally.

“And I didn’t think you’d ever want it to be.”

You turn around slowly. He’s standing there in the doorway, backlit by moonlight and something inside you snaps — like all this time, all this distance, all the pretending not to care was just waiting for this moment to fall apart.

“You kissed another girl, James.”

“I know.”

“And then you looked at me like I was insane for caring.”

“I was insane. I was—” He drags a hand through his hair. “I was terrified. I thought if I kissed you, and it meant something, and it wasn’t the bond— then I’d lose you anyway. I thought you’d see me for what I am and walk away.”

“So you walked away first.”

He closes his eyes like it physically hurts to hear.

“You used to make me feel like the magic wasn’t the only thing that made me worth something.”

Your breath catches.

“But after you kissed her,” you say, voice breaking, “I stopped believing you.”

He looks up. His eyes are glassy.

“I didn’t kiss her because I wanted her.”

“Then why?”

“Because I couldn’t let myself want you.”

Silence again. This time it aches.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he continues, “to feel like the only reason someone wants you is because of something you can’t control. To wonder if it’s just magic. To wonder if you’re enough when the bond is gone.”

“I do know what that feels like,” you whisper. “I’ve been wondering the same thing about you.”

His breath shudders out.

And then—

He says it. Quiet. Devastated. Raw.

“I see you everywhere.”

Your heart stops.

“You’re not in the tower and I still hear your laugh. I sit at breakfast and I still look for your hands. I write notes to myself and they still start with your name. I see you, and I miss you, and I love you and I am so—”

He chokes.

“—so fucking sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You’re crying now. Silently. The kind that hurts worse than screaming.

“You think I broke you?” he says, stepping forward. “You broke me first. That day we dueled. That moment the bond hit. I looked at you and felt like I’d never be able to go back to who I was before you.”

His voice is shaking now.

“I would give anything for you to look at me like that again. Like I wasn’t a mistake.”

You're not a mistake, James, for Godric’s sake. But if I didn’t love you, it would be a lot easier.”

He doesn’t move.

“But I do,” you say. “And I hate that I do. Because you make it so hard— with your perfect, disheveled, brown hair, and your stupid hazel eyes that always look at me like I’m something you almost deserve but not quite, and your laugh that makes everything feel lighter even when I don’t want it to.”

Your voice cracks and you don’t care.

“You act like you don’t care and then you do, and then you run away, and you make me feel like I’m going insane because I can’t tell what’s you and what’s fear and what’s just... bullshit, James.”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“You talk like you’re terrified of ruining things,” you say, taking a step closer. “But you already did. And I still want you.”

His breath catches.

“I want you in ways I don’t know how to not want you. And I hate it. I hate how you crawl under my skin. I hate how I see you in every hallway, every page I try to read, every second I spend trying to forget you.”

You're shaking now, not from anger but from the weight of it.

“I hate that you made me believe in something,” you whisper. “And then kissed someone else just to prove to yourself that it wasn’t real.”

James looks like he might fall apart. His eyes are wide and glassy and so, so full of everything he never said.

“And I still love you,” you whisper. “Merlin help me, I do.”

There’s silence — the kind that feels sacred. And then—

He steps forward.

“Do you know what kills me?” he says, voice wrecked. “It’s not that I broke the bond. It’s that I didn’t need it to feel you.”

“I felt you in every spell I cast. Every time I closed my eyes. Every time I tried to move on.”

He reaches up, almost like he wants to touch you, but stops short.

“You say I make it hard to love me?” he whispers. “You made it impossible not to.”

His voice breaks.

“And now all I want is a way to make it up to you. To make you believe it wasn’t just magic. That it was me. It was always me.”

You stand there, the space between you thick with everything you've both said, and everything that still hangs in the air like static.

And maybe you don’t fall into his arms.

Maybe you don’t kiss him.

Maybe you just breathe.

Because for once, the truth is out. And sometimes love isn’t a spell. It’s the aftermath.

“If I told you I’d wait,” he whispers, “would that be enough?”

You shake your head, tears burning down your cheeks.

“I don’t want you to wait.”

“Then what do you want?”

Your voice cracks.

“I want it to not hurt.”

You both stand there. Under soft glass. Under stars. Under the weight of everything unsaid.

And maybe this isn’t a happy ending. But it’s the truth. And sometimes that’s the most magic there is.

...

They come back separately.

You first — red-eyed but composed, hair a little windblown, but chin high like you dared someone to ask. James follows ten minutes later, looking like he fought a tree and lost.

The common room goes silent when you walk in. Everyone stares. Someone drops a Chocolate Frog.

And then—

“So… are we calling that closure or a reunion?” Sirius asks, from the couch, flipping a galleon. “Because I need to know if I owe Lily money.”

“You owe me,” Lily says, without looking up from her book. “I said they'd sort it out before exams.”

“I said they’d make out again before exams,” Marlene points out, sipping from a Butterbeer bottle. “Slight distinction.”

“I said they'd explode into magical flames and die tragically,” Dorcas mutters. “So I’d say I’m already out.”

“I just hoped they’d stop making our study sessions actively painful,” Remus adds, dryly. “Honestly, this is a win for all of us.”

“I made a chart,” Peter says proudly, holding it up. It’s chaotic. There are three separate columns labeled “Will They,” “Won’t They,” and “Dear God Please Just Talk.”

“You had a chart?” you ask, blinking.

“There were rounds,” Sirius adds. “Weekly meetings. Montague handled odds.”

“Professor Flitwick caught us once,” Lily says. “He gave me five sickles to put on ‘first kiss in the Astronomy Tower.’”

“McGonagall asked me last week if you two had finally sorted it,” Remus says. “She said— and I quote— ‘this has dragged on longer than the last Triwizard Tournament.’”

You stare at them.

Then—

“I hated all of you,” you say.

“You still do,” James mumbles beside you.

There’s a pause.

Then Lily grins and scoots over on the couch. “Right. Sit down. Tell us everything.”

“Slowly,” Marlene adds. “And with dramatic pauses.”

“Also someone owes me ten galleons,” Sirius mutters.

In the corner of the staff lounge later that night, McGonagall sips her tea and mutters,

“About time.”

Beside her, Professor Slughorn sighs dreamily,

“Ah, young love. I knew it’d take root.”

a/n: TYSM FOR SUPPORTING ME AND THIS SERIES, IT WAS SO SOSSO MUCH FUN TO WRITE, remember requests are always open!!

taglist:

@strlightfilms

@glittervame

@ifilwtmfc

@theblindhag

@vxyselectric

@spirit-of-a-b1tch

@shushbruv

@glennussy

@mp-littlebit

@fiowerbeds

@trulyyoursniki

@ifilwtmfc

@minghaossv

@kind4luck

@hoeformarauders

@prongs-moon

@j2warren

@urfunnyvalentin3

@klobug287

[sapphicswph]

degrader lottie pleasseesss :(

assuming you want lottie as the degarder! :)

but honestly… i think she’d love being degraded ughh

pairing: lottie x reader

warnings: degradation, smuttttt, some fluff at the end, nsfw, choking, biting, slapping, dirty talk, fingering (r receiving), thigh humping (lottie receiving), not proofread, 18+!

in the camp, lottie sits on a tree trunk. she’s been struggling lately, her visions becoming more frequent and intense. she took it out on you, she was very sweet and caring though, always had a safe word. you sat across from her. “y/n…” lottie whispers, her voice trembling. “i need you…” she reaches out, grabbing your wrist, wanting to take you to your shared hut.

you smile softly, knowing what she wants, she had a particularly bad day with everyone being against her for some reason. “let’s go.” you stand up and follow her into the hut. once inside, she pushes you down on the makeshift bed and kisses you deeply. “i need this… i need you.” she whispers against your lips before biting down on your lower lip slightly. “color?” she asks, pulling away slightly. “green,” you whisper.

"good girl." she mutters softly, pushing your shirt up and unbuttoning your jeans. she pushes them down your hips along with your panties. she spreads your legs wider with her knee, pushing her own shorts down. she spits in her palm and rubs it between your legs, making you bite your lip to keep from moaning loudly. "you’re such a slut… you’d open your legs for me no matter what, huh?" she whispers darkly.

"say it." she demands, pushing one finger inside you roughly. "say 'i'm your slut'." she starts moving her fingers faster, knowing exactly how to touch you. you can feel her getting wetter as she grinds against your thigh. "come on, baby." she adds another finger, stretching you as she kisses your neck hard, biting down slightly. "i'm your slut..." you moan out softly. she groans at the words and starts fucking you harder with her fingers.

"you'd let anyone fuck you like this, wouldn't you?" she adds a third finger, going deep. "yes.." you whine, spreading your legs wider. "i'm such a slut..." you blabber. of course, you were just trying to piss her off to get more out of her. she growls softly, pressing her thumb on your clit. "god, you fucking whore…" she pulls her fingers out, slapping your pussy softly. "you'd let the other girls do this too?"

she pumps her hips against your thigh, getting herself off. your lack of response makes her snap. she lightly smacks your face, making your head fall to the side with a moan. “answer,” she grabs your jaw hard, "you'd let shauna spread your legs and eat your pussy?" you knew she was jealous by the attention shauna have given you, and it usually came out during sex. she grinds harder on your thigh, leaving wet marks. "would you?" she slaps your face again harder and it just turns you on more.

“maybe,” you finally answer her, looking up at her while biting your lip, knowing damn well it would piss her off. she growls softly, leaning in to bite your neck hard. “fucking bitch,” she whispers, lightly squeezing your throat and teases your entrance with one finger.

she pushes the finger inside you, watching your face closely as she moves it around. "she could do this to you, huh?" she push her finger deeper and starts fingering you faster, her other hand still around your throat. "she can’t make you feel like this." she spits out, jealousy clear in her voice. she leans in and kisses you messily, biting your lip hard.

she adds another finger, stretching you as she kisses you aggressively. her thumb presses hard on your clit, making you whine and arch into her touch. "only i get to fuck you," she growls against your lips. "say it." she demands. "only you..." you moan out between kisses and finger thrusts.

she keeps grinding against your thigh, her wetness dripping down your skin. she's so close to coming herself that she can barely breathe right. she starts fucking you harder with her fingers, her thumb pressing down on your clit in circles. "i'm gonna come," she whines against your lips before kissing you deeply again.

"come with me," she orders, biting your lip hard. she moves her thumb faster and curls her fingers inside you, hitting your g spot perfectly. you both moan out loudly, her grinding on your thigh getting faster. “come… with me…” she punctuates every word with a thrust of her hips and fingers while grabbing your jaw roughly, whimpering into your neck.

you both come at the same time, her fingers still thrusting inside you as you flutter around them. she buries her face in your neck and bites down hard to muffle her own cries, her body shaking and convulsing. she keeps grinding against your thigh until she's completely spent, her juices coating your skin. "fuck," she pants, slowly pulling her fingers out of you and wipes them on the makeshift blanket.

as her breathing slowly returns to normal, lottie pulls away from your neck, leaving a soft kiss on your jaw. her voice is gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the harsh words she had used moments ago. “are you okay?” she asks softly, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your cheek where she had slapped you earlier. “did i hurt you too much?” she adds, her eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or pain. “m’sorry if i did,” she almost pouted, looking at your red cheek.

you shake your head slightly, a small smile playing on your lips. “no,” you say softly. “i’m okay, baby.” lottie’s expression softens even more at that reassurance. she leans in gently kissing each spot where she had slapped or bitten earlier with tender care. she pulls you into her arms, holding you close and nuzzles into your neck. “i love you,” she whispers softly, her voice filled with affection and warmth. “you’re so beautiful.”

you nuzzle back into her touch, feeling safe and loved in her arms. "i love you too, lottie," you say, your voice filled with the same warmth and affection. you pull back slightly to look at her, your hands cupping her face gently. "i know you’d never hurt me.," you add, your thumbs brushing softly over her cheeks before kissing it. she just looked so kissable, looking down at you with puppy dog eyes.

requests are still open! so feel free to invade it <3

[scorpioriesling]

Temptation Island - Episode 3

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden, Liam, Ridoc, Bodhi, Brennan, Dain, Garrick x reader

Warning(s): none

Summary: Four couples come to Temptation Island to test the strenght of their relationships -- relationships built on rocky foundations, that is. Will these couples survive? Will these individuals be tempted during their stay on the island, or stay true to their partners? Only readers decide -- find out what happens next in this juicy, dramatic series!

SR’s Note: You all made it VERY CLEAR who should be going on this next date with Y/N... but before we can enjoy that, we must brave the bonfire. (OH no!) Good luck readers -- can't wait to see what you decide next!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @luvly-writer @whyucloudingmymind @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @woollybread786 @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @fiahtheteaaddict @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans @emmiwolfsworld (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Episode 2

You'd only been on the island a few days, but one thing you prided yourself on was your ability to adapt. Sure, living in a villa full of boys was not a simple adjustment -- but, you adapted. Only being able to talk to three other girls during your stay? Adapted. Even going without seeing your boyfriend... well, that one was hard. But still, you adapted.

What you were not ready to adapt to was the bonfire, however.

By eight o'clock, the sun had begun to sink toward the horizon just beyond the ocean tides. You walked along Violet, Cat and Sloane -- the usual chit and chatter lone gone as you took step after step toward impending doom. You were sure the other girls felt it too, jusging by their gazes which were aimed directly at the ground.

Mark however, was not feeling as nervous as the rest of you. He'd already had the bonfire with the guys, so he was stowing away some knowledge you were sure. Nonetheless, he greeted you with nothing but a welcoming smile.

"Ladies!" He said, waving you all over. "Please, find any seat you'd like and make yourselves comfortable."

You all trailed in, one by one and chose a spot on the bamboo benches. Before you sat a roaring fire, its flames licking up at the night sky. Mark sat on the other side, adjusting his position in his own chair so he could see the lot of you. Cat fidgeted with one of her sundress straps, and Sloane nervously toyed with the end of her braid. Violet however, as usual, remained utterly calm.

"Welcome to your first bonfire!" He said excitedly, throwing his arms wide. "Are you nervous?"

You chuckled and Sloane smirked, but surprisingly Cat spoke up.

"To find out what my boyfriend has or hasn't done? Yeah, I'd say I'm nervous -- can't speak for the rest of you," she said looking around. It was quiet for a moment before you were shocked once more by the sound of Violet's voice.

"I just want to know the truth... and know where I stand." She said, keeping her cool. Mark nodded, clearly pleased with that response.

"Very well said, Violet -- so, let's view the footage, shall we? Sloane, we'll start with you tonight; here are the highlights from Jack's first few days on the island."

Sloane's spine straightened as she watched the screen just before the fire come to life, rolling various clips of Jack. The first few were innocent enough; he cheersed with a few women (though, disturbingly, they all wore lingerie), there were shots from their hula dance group date, and then... well, he began toeing the line. Clips played of him with the girl you recognized from the first day, laughing and sitting together during breakfast. He was heard talking with the purple-haired woman about Sloane herself, blatantly bashing her in a way you knew was untrue.

After a few more damning clips, the screen went black. Sloane shook her head slowly, her eyes meeting Mark's.

"I just... I don't even know what to think," she stuttered, bressing her hands to her cheeks. "He has these like, bitch-boy tendencies where he completely disreguards me or my feelings, and here is the proof; not even a week on the island yet and he seems to have forgotten he still has a girlfriend."

Mark sighed as he debated his response.

"It's always a fine line we walk, right, when making new connections but still holding on to old ones?"

Sloane nodded, eating up his every word.

"Sometimes, you have to consider where you fall in all of this; is it worth holding on to, or is it a connection that needs severing?"

The group was quiet as a few girls snuck peeks at Sloane, who still sat in disbelief. When Mark spoke next, it was to announce Cat's turn. She straightened her shoulders when Traeger came into view, but didn't watch for long. He had less than half of the footage Jack did, and as Mark put it, he must be doing something right then, right?

After Cat, it was you. You sucked in a breath as Mark rolled the footage, and soon Drake's face appeared on screen. He was twirling someone around -- a half-naked someone, that is -- before grabbing her and tossing her in the pool. He followed soon after, laughing and swimming up next to the girl. Your heart sank as you recalled her name; Mira. She'd been interested in her since day one, and you knew how he loved getting attention.

More scenes played before you, and you felt your cheeks growing warmer as you watched. Drake and Mira were seen cuddling in a hammock together, sharing a dance on their first group date, and so much more. Your heart began to sink, and you tried to recognize the feeling. Was it sadness? Not exactly.

"How are we feeling after that?"

Your gaze shot up at Mark, registering the question finally. The screen had long gone dark, and you must have zoned out while getting into your own throughts.

"I... I want to say I feel sad?" You hedge, but then furrow your brows. "I feel sad because I'm embarassed by this, but... I almost feel like I expected this."

Mark rose his eyebrows.

"You expected it?"

"Well, I mean, yeah," you chuckled humorlessly. "You put someone who's already dying for attention 24/7 in a house with lingerie-clad women for a few days, surely he's going to act this way."

Mark nodded slowly, trying to decide the best way to answer the thought.

"But... does that make it okay? In your eyes?"

Now you rose your eyebrows.

"Okay? Hell no -- Drake being able to act like this and continually receive forgiveness isn't okay. He gets away with a lot, and clearly he's making new connections, but..." You shrugged. Mark leaned forward in his chair.

"But...? Maybe if he's acting out this way, it brings attention to something he is seeking. Wanting in a partner, that maybe you're not on board to give. And that's okay! This retreat is all about figuring ourselves out right? Combined with making new connections... maybe you'll find the missing piece in him you didn't know you didn't have."

You leaned back, taking in Mark's words. You knew he was right, hard as it was to admit -- but maybe you were supposed to find what you needed here. Maybe someone here had something to provide that you hadn't realized was even lacking.

Violet's video followed, and though it was shocking, she looked unimpressed. Of course, Halden had quite the spread of women fawning over him; and though his actions bordered on cheating, Violet simply shook her head as though it didn't bother her.

Boy did she have a long way to go.

✧･ﾟ: *

Mark's words stuck with you as you readied yourself for bed that night, brushing out your freshly-washed locks. You hated that you knew he was right, wishing he wouldn't give you the best advice you'd heard to date; but, that wasn't how it worked. You came here to work on your relationship, your sense of self, and as Mark put it -- find the thing you didn't even realize what was lacking.

Even if it meant finding it in someone else.

The soft knock at your door had you jumping in surprise, the brush stilling as it glided halfway through a strand of hair. You set it on your nightstand, quickly tucking yourself halfway beneath the blankets to conceal your lower half. Whoever it was surely didn't need to know you slept in only undies and an oversized tee.

"Come in!"

As Liam peeked his head in, your shoulders relaxed. He slid himself through the opening, shutting the door softly behind him as you gave him a welcoming smile. He was quick to approach your bedside, and you swallowed thickly as you took in his appearance. His disheveled blonde hair, dampened with the remnants of sea salt and oceanwater. His skin was tanned, as though he'd been out in the sun all day -- tan from his cheekbones, over his muscled shoulders, and down over his exposed abs-

"Can I sit?" He asked politely, gesturing to your bed. You nodded eagerly, and the bed dipped a bit as he sank into it with a sigh. His blue eyes met yours quickly, the gaze both interested and full of something else altogether.

"What's up?" You asked, trying to play it cool. Liam gave you a sad smile, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.

"I just... wanted to check on you," he said softly, looking down at the patterns on your quilt before continuing. "I can imagine that the bonfires can be pretty intense, and I figured this might be a lot for you to shoulder, that's all."

Your heart melted at his words. He came up here, just to check on you? Of all the girls, Liam wanted to make sure you were doing well? You nearly couldn't believe someone you'd known so short of time could care so much.

"Oh! Wow, Liam, that's... that's actually really sweet, thank you." You said with a little grin of your own. He leaned back, balancing himself on an outstretched palm. The lamp light refracted and bounced off his bicep, reflecting on the panes of his face nicely. To say the surge of energy that shot through you was unwelcome would be an understatement -- but a statement nonetheless.

"So, are you?" He asked gently. His eyes met yours again as he leaned closer, and you found your shoulders relaxing little by little. You sighed, debating your answer and how far you wanted to get into this right now.

"I mean, yeah, it was hard seeing my boyfriend do... some of the things he did," you said, treading lightly. "To say I was shocked would be lying to you -- so I won't tell you I was surprised."

Liam shook his head slowly, a sad look overtaking his face.

"So, is he always like this, then?"

You shrugged, finding it harder and harder to play the situation off.

"Drake craves attention. He needs something more I think, and whatever else it is he needs... it's just not me."

Liam narrowed his eyes at that, instantly taking your hands in his as he leaned impossibly close. The cover slipped a little, exposing your bare thighs, but the blonde didn't notice.

"Y/N, you're some man's dream girl, and you just don't know it yet," he said, as though taking an oath. "If Drake is too blind to realize he has the entire package right here in front of him already, then... I'm sorry to say it, but your boyfriend's an idiot."

Emotion clogged your throat at the sweet words. Nothing, in all the years you and Drake had been together, had moved you in such a way as this. Without thinking too hard about it, you leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to the apple of Liam's left cheek. His eyes widened, staring back at you as you pulled away. You blushed, grinning like an idiot as you tried to work up the courage to say how you felt and failing.

"You're... you're something special, Y/N," he whispered, licking his lips as his gaze softened. You realized what was coming; you'd given a mixed signal somehow, maybe he thought you wanted to kiss him? But you did... didn't you?

You cleared your throat, sitting up straight before Liam could get too close.

"Liam, I... I think something could come out of this, of us, maybe... ugh, I don't know," you sighed, looking down at your bare legs again. He immediately pulled back, aware of how uncomfortable you;d gotten so quickly.

"Sorry! Oh gosh, I'm sorry Y/N -- I just want to be here for you, and help you in any way you need-"

"And I appreciate that!" You reassured him, which captured his gaze once more. He looked to you apologetically, and you broke out into a grin. "I just... would prefer if maybe when you help me, I'm not half-naked in my bed."

His eyes widened in horror as he looked down, just then realizing you had no pants on. He chuckled, frightened as he looked to you again. He ran a and through his hair, blowing out a breath as he quickly stood.

"Ohhh my gosh, yeah, haha, uh... I'm actually so sorry, uh, I shouldn't have come in here like that, in your room, uh..."

You stood slowly, making sure the hem of your tee fell to your knees, effectively covering you. In that moment, you stepped into Liam, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. He froze, not quite expecting a hug from you of all things. You sighed, and he finally calmed down enough to wrap his arms around you as well.

"Thank you," you mumbled, your words jumbled as your cheek pressed into his chest. He rest his chin atop your head, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back. "Your words really helped me tonight, Liam."

He laughed, and his chest vibrated with the sound.

"Yeah, I realize now I probably should've changed before I came to talk to you... but hey. With your shirt and my shorts, we almost make one whole outfit, don't we?"

You giggled, resting your tired eyes as Liam's hand continued rubbing your back. You decided this would be a moment you enjoyed, cherished no matter if it went further or ended here. If Drake was embracing this process and making new connections along the way -- maybe it was time you did, too.

"We really do make one full outfit, don't we?"

✧･ﾟ: *

Breakfast the next morning was... overwhelming, to say the least. Each girl had at least two pairs of eyes on them during the meal, and each of you were approached by multiple guys. It wasn't until after Dain walked away with his tail between his legs that Sloane said what everyone was thinking.

"Ugh, can they just let us eat in peace? Fuck," she groaned, and Cat choked on her coffee. Violet giggled, and you couldn't help but relate to the sentiment. Though you were flattered, most of the attention this morning was chaotic -- it felt nothing like last night, when Liam was there for you when you really needed someone.

Liam.

Your heart skipped a beat at the very thought of him, how he'd talked you through your feelings the night before adn provided a shoulder when you didn't even realize you could use one. Glancing across the space, you watched as he chatted with Brennan, sipping orange juice from a glass. You smiled then, though your gaze faltered as someone else crossed in front of him.

Your mouth dried at the sight.

"Oh? I think it's obvious who Y/N's choosing for her date today," Cat teased, and you whipped your head back toward the group. Sloane raised her eyebrows.

"Really? Who is it?" Violet asked quietly, her round eyes focused on you. Sloane scoffed, thinking she knew better.

"Isn't it obvious?" She said, setting down her mug. "She straightens her shoulders every time Garrick enters the room."

Your brows furrowed. That's not where you thought this was going.

"Garrick?" You asked incredulously. Sloane studied you with a smirk, and Cat shrugged her shoulders.

"Are we wrong to assume? We saw you two the other night at the bonfire." She said, innocently enough. "He seemed to really enjoy your company -- and you were smiling, like really smiling." You opened your mouth to speak, but Sloane piped up.

"Yeah, he looked like he wanted to enjoy more of you if no one else was around-"

Violet dropped her fork onto her plate, raising her hands as she pinched her eyes closed.

"Eww! Sloane, I'm still trying to eat here," she grumbled, which made you laugh. Cat shrugged the whole thing off, muttering one last thing before draining her apple juice.

"Just saying. It's pretty clear theres more to him than a platonic relationship, as far as you're concerned."

✧･ﾟ: *

The day didn't get any easier. In fact, you were faced with the hardest challenge of all just after lunch; choosing someone for your second date.

"Now ladies, I can understand if a few of you would prefer to take the same guy from last time around, however the rules are that for the second date, you must choose someone not chosen before," he explained. You glanced toward the end of the line, catching Xaden's eye. He grinned, tossing you a playful wink and you hated the way it made you instantly blush.

"I can understand that this is a tough choice, but it's one you ladies must make. That being said," he looked to Sloane. "Sloane, why don't you start us off today?"

She grinned, sitting tall before declaring her choice.

"For my date today, I'll choose Bodhi."

Bodhi smiled, his teeth shining against his bronze skin. He gazed at Cat admiringly, who gave him a polite nod.

"Excellent! Sloane and Bodhi, then -- the two of you will be going on a yoga date today," Mark explained. "You'll be joined by another couple, however your dates will be completely separate."

Sloane bounced giddily in her seat. She clearly was on board with... whatever this was.

Next, Mark moved on to Cat.

"Catriona? Who would you prefer to attend your date today?"

She sighed, looking from boy to boy.

"Though I had a lovely time with Brennan," she said apologetically. "I think this go around I'll choose Liam."

Fuck.

Liam smiled pleasantly, but he wasn't looking at Cat. His gaze gazed sidelong at you, and it took everything in you not to object right then and there. Your heart began to race; you choice was now chosen, whatever were you to do?

"Excellent! The two of you will join Sloane and Bodhi for yoga later this afternoon; be sure to wear something you can stretch in."

Cat nodded, and Mark glanced to Violet.

"Violet, you're next; please tell us your choice for your second date."

She hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip. You could tell this whole thing brought her some anxiety, but you wondered if she could also be at war with herself -- in your opinion, her boyfriend was a cheater and a liar. But, you weren't in her shoes; perhaps she deemed Drake rotten too, and wondered why you hadn't left him just as well.

Swallowing, she gave her answer.

"I think I'll choose Xaden for this date."

Xaden raised his eyebrows in surprise, and you watched as she looked shyly at him. He nodded, still taken aback by her choice but happy noonetheless. She blushed, and Mark chuckled at the interaction.

"Very well, then! The two of you will be heading to a body painting class, and again, you'll be joined with two others though the dates will remain separate."

You heard his words, but your ears rang as you debated over and over what to do. You'd already taken Xaden, so he was off the table -- well, he was off the table anyways, but no matter. Liam, who you thought you'd for sure choose, was also now taken. You couldn't even pick Bodhi at this point -- at least the two of you shared a conversation at the pool party the other night.

The pool party...

Cat's words replayed in your head from earlier this morning as your mind raced. He seemed to really enjoy your company, she'd said. You were smiling, like really smiling.

Lifting your gaze from the sand before you, your eyes met Garrick's instantly. Your cheeks heated as he smiled at you, a faint dimple indenting his right cheek. You kind of wanted to kiss it...

"Garrick," you blurted, and the group fell silent. No more than a moment later, Ridoc busted out laughing, and Sloane was quick to follow. Cat's shoulders shook as she giggled to herself, and before you knew it, the whole group was alight with amusement. Mark chuckled, looking to you unexpectedly.

"Wow! She was so sure of her choice, I didn't even get to address her yet," he said, slowly shaking his head. You chuckled to yourself as you felt your cheeks growing warmer, and you dipped your head in embarassment.

"Nah, she was just sure she wanted to do some body painting with me, that's all," Garrick teased. He earned a few ooohs from the others, and you covered your face with your hand.

"That being said," Mark interjected, finally regaining his composure. "The two of you will join Violet and Xaden for body painting later, so choose a swimsuit you're okay with getting a little dirty."

Garrick winked at you as Mark spoke, and you felt your face grow impossibly hotter. How did one male have such an effect on a person?

"On a serious note, though -- today's dates are rather important. After tonight, we'll have our first house elimination; you girls will come together and choose one of these guys you'd like to send home. So," he clapped once. "Be sure to make a good impression, enjoy your dates, and we'll reconviene tomorrow morning."

The guys began talking immediately as unease washed over the group.

"But, what if we don't want to send anyone home?" Sloane complained. "All these guys are... actually pretty cool."

All? Wasn't Dain getting on her last nerve just a few hours ago?

Mark simply shrugged, looking to her once more before the group disbanded.

"I understand it's a hard choice -- but, you'll need to choose one. It'll allow for more... room." He said, leaving with no other explaination than that.

✧･ﾟ: *

The walk to the body painting date was much more enjoyable than you'd expected. Garrick asked lots of quetions, genuinely interested in you as a person and not necessarily what or who brought you here. He didn't mention Drake a single time -- and for that, tonight, you were particularly thankful.

"This looks like where we're supposed to be," Xaden announced, pausing before a large waterfall in the clearing. Just behind it, set up in a little alcove were two stations; both had various pots and bowls filled with miscellaneous mixtures, and an instruction book sat in the middle of each. Violet followed Xaden ahead as they claimed the far station, and closer to the pathway you and Garrick flanked the second one.

As you drew nearer, you realized there was no paint at all. The pots and bowls were filled with moss, seaweed, and some sort of mud.

"Phew," you said, breaking the silence with a dramatic sweep of your hand over your forehead. "I thought we were actually using paint!"

Garrick side-eyed you. "Do you have an allergy?"

You raised your brows. "No! No, haha, I was just making a joke -- I chose my not-so-cutest suit for this, anyway." You explained. He paused, his eyes trailing over your body. You suddenly realized how close the two of you stood, and you took a sidestep away. He chuckled, picking up the instructions.

"I think you look beautiful, reguardless of what you're wearing."

The hairs on your arms rose, goosebumps peppering your skin. What was it about this man that could get to you to react, just with a single sentence?

"Let's get started, shall we?" He said, as though the most romantic compliment hadn't just came out of his mouth moments before. He looked to Xaden and Violet, who were already smearing mud on one another before turning back to you. "Seems like we're already behind."

You shrugged, picking up a small bowl filled with sea moss. "Mark said these dates were separate -- I'm just fine with going at our own pace."

His eyes gazed softly down at you, and he nodded lightly.

"Yeah... I'm happy to go at our own pace, too."

✧･ﾟ: *

After a few hours, the sun had began to set which sent beautiful panes of golden and orange refracting through the waterfall's curtain. You'd laughed so hard your cheeks had begun to hurt -- while also being covered in mud.

"And finally, I present: the bowl of trust," Garrick said, a rediculous accent layered throughout his voice. You giggled as he got onto one knee, presenting the bowl to you as though he were a knight and you a royal. You took it, sloshing it side to side as you inspected its contents. He snatched up the instructions again, explaining this layer.

"The bowl of trust is to represent a necessary foundation between two partners; trust," he read aloud. "It's the final layer to the paint we cover the other in, as it is also the final layer that is often forgotten in relationships."

You nodded, glancing down at the odd liquid.

"So... what is it?"

Garrick scoffed. "That's trust in there; I just told you."

You rolled your eyes, swatting him on the muscley arm.

"No, I mean what am I about to be lathered in?" You asked, tentatively dipping your fingers into the liquid and scooping some out. It almost looked like seeds through the clear-purple goo, and you were genuinely curious. Garrick looked at the paper again, before setting it aside. You plopped the substance on his chest, your breath catching as you once again, rubbed it all over him. His abs tightened as you worked your way down, spreading the mixture over his entire body.

Once he was covered, you extended the bowl to him. He took it, smirking as he scooped out the rest and plopped it on your arm.

"Oh... this is fish larvae, by the way."

You screeched, backing as far away as you could from him. You'd effectively knocked the wooden bowl from his grasp in the process, and any remaining larvae was now spilled on the ground. Both Xaden and Violet whipped their heads to look at you, concern filling their stares. You moved so quick you almost fell on your ass, but luckily Garrick was there to keep you on your own two feet.

"Eww! Don't touch me with that," you shrieked, prying his arms off of you. He cackled, holding you tighter as some of the gloppy mess transferred from his chest to your back. You wiggled in his grasp, the multiple layers mixing together between the two of you.

"She's fine!" He called, reassuring the others. "No biggie!"

Violet turned back to Xaden hesitantly, but you caught Xaden's stare out of the corner of your eye. He studied your every movement, his gaze locked onto the place where Garrick was still holding you. It took him a few moments before he could focus on Violet again, still seeming rather perturbed over the whole thing.

"Ugh, Garrick, this is so gross! I don't want larvae on me," you shrieked, writhing in his grasp.

"So, you want to wash off then?"

"Yes! I absolutely want to wash-"

Your shrill squeal interrupted your complaining as Garrick tossed you off the path, straight into the waterfall pool below. Your body cooled as it hit the water, the muffled sound of the waterfall dull under the surface. You kicked and paddled toward the surface, pausing when another mass landed in the water beside you.

As you resurfaced, you gasped for air, breathing deep as you wiped water from your eyes. As you regained your sense of sight, you looked around -- the scene was beautiful. A plethora of flowering plants stretched over the rocky pathside, dipping all the way down to the water itself. Variants of every color greeted you in the form of flora or plant, and the sun cast a warm glow through the space.

Xaden nor Violet so much as peeked over the edge before Garrick resurfaced, much less graceful than you had. He shook out his brown locks like a dog, and you squealed as you shielded your face. He wiped at his face, a smile overtaking his lips as his eyes refocused on you. He chuckled, stepping closer and resting a hand on your waist.

"Here... let me help you rinse off."

Your lungs stopped working as Garrick pulled you close, his hands working and rubbing across your body. He touched you lightly, softly as though he was timid. It didn't seem like him to be like this, though the action was sweet and breathtaking in itself.

Gazing up at him, you admired the way the light hit his face. His strong jawline was highlighted in the afternoon glow, and the water droplets nearly glimmered as they occasionally fell from his hair. He noticed you staring, and laughed nervously.

"What... have I got something on my face?" He said, grinning when you laughed.

"Yeah, larvae -- can you believe that?" You giggled, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks. His hand stilled for a moment, the quickly resumed as though he was entranced by the touch. You paused as you had nearly finished, wiping over the small indent in his cheek.

"Garrick... why would you let me lather fish eggs all over your face?" You asked quietly, trying not to laugh as you were asking a genuine question. He smiled softly, his eyes dancing as he studied your face.

When he replied, his voice was softer than before.

"Honestly, I'd let you do whatever you wanted to me... I trust you." He said, and your cheeks warmed. "Like the paper said, right?"

You nodded meekly, finding yourself staring right up at his mouth. His fingers slid to your lower back, stilling as the two of you weighed the gravity of the situation. He was so close, so gorgeous right now -- but was he worth risking Drake over?

He swallowed thickly, his breaths coming faster. "I really want to kiss you right now," he admitted shyly, his fingers tracing small patterns on your skin. You slid your hands up, lying them flat on his chest as he pulled you even closer.

"I..." you began, as memories of Drake and Mira from the earlier bonfire cycled through your mind. You'd been hurt by it, but the fact that you expected that behavior said a lot too, and a lot about Drake himself. "I trust you, Garrick, I do. And... I think I want that too."

He grinned, leaning in just close enough before touching your lips. Your eyes closed to slits, peering up at him just before he could close the distance.

"You probably shouldn't," he whispered, chest rumbling as he quietly chuckled. "That wasn't actually fish larvae. It was a blackberry moisture mask."

Your eyes widened as you reared your head back, looking up at him in disbelief.

"Garrick!" You scolded. "You're the worst for that -- that was so embarassing! Why in the Hell would you tell me that?"

His smile faded as his hand slid to grasp the back of your neck.

"Because it allowed me to do this."

He pulled you into him, pressing your lips to his in that very moment. Your eyes blinked shut as you tasted him, the feel of another male's mouth on yours was one you'd become to foreign to over the last few years. But Garrick, boy he knew how to kiss -- his lips melted against yours, the plush feel of him fit perfectly against your own.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. He gave in, his mouth molding with yours as though it were one as the sun continued to set. It didn't feel like nearly long enough before he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

"Our own pace, right?" He whispered, his hand threading through your hair. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, your heart jumping at his ability to reign in his control. You didn't want to rush anything yet, and he knew that -- he respected and abided by that.

"Our own pace," you agreed, leaning into his chest as he continued running his fingers through your hair.

You allowed your eyes to close, relishing in the sounds, smells, and ambiance around you. Knowing tomorrow would be a hard day, you couldn't find it in yourself to care right now; you just wanted this, a moment shared between the two of you that you never could have anticipated coming.

Tomorrow would be an entirely other story. You had not an idea who you were willing to be sent home yet, or why "room" had to be made in the first place. But, one thing you were certain of was who you would be willing to keep.

✧･ﾟ: *

[formulawonderland]

All my fault not your fault

In which you remind him that sometimes things just don't work out, and it's not his fault

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: mentions of a crash, Lando being hard on himself, kissing

0.9k words

"No!" you shouted, slamming your fist down on the table in front of you.

Lando had been in the middle of an overtake on Oscar, was just about to slip past to the left in turn run. And then all of a sudden he was in the wall, his front wing across the track.

Oscar had gone far left to defend, far off the line, and left your boyfriend with zero space to move. It was too late to back off, and he skidded to a stop along the wall.

"That's all my bad. All my fault. Unlucky. Sorry. Stupid from me."

You wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to throw something when you heard his radio. You wanted to shout that no, it wasn't his fault, but you couldn't. All you could do was watch as he sat there, watch as he walked back with his helmet still on, visor down.

You were already on your feet when he finally walked into the garage, and you almost knocked him over when you wrapped your arms around him.

"I swear to god, I'm gonna kill somebody," you mumbled, your face pressed against his neck as you held him tightly.

He didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around you in return, rocking you from side to side gently.

"You're alright though, yeah?" you asked, pulling back and placing your hands on his helmet. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he sighed, leaning forward so the helmet was pressed against your forehead. "Just- stupid mistake. Shouldn't have happened."

"Don't say that," you said, shaking your head. "Its not your fault."

"Yes it is," he argued, leaning back and looking at you. "I shouldn't have gone for it. There was no room."

"Yeah, because he didn't leave you any room," you protested. "There was a gap, so you went for it, but then it closed. That's not your fault."

"But I-" he started, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. "Can we just go?" he asked instead, the emotions clear in his voice.

Your expression softened, and you pressed a quick kiss to the part of his helmet beneath his visor.

"Of course," you murmured, taking his hand. "Come on."

You led him through the garage and out the back, blocking the cameras as he dashed across to the hospitality building, and once again blocking them by standing in the doorway until he had turned down the hall.

As soon as he got into his driver's room he tossed his helmet on the bed, pulling you back into a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so stupid," he mumbled against your neck. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"No you're not," you murmured, rubbing his back. "You're not stupid. You saw a gap, went for it, but didn't think it would close. That's not stupid, that's racing."

"But they're all gonna be pissed at me now," he mumbled. "Zak, Andrea, Oscar... fuck, they're all gonna be on my ass."

"No they won't baby," you said, pulling back to look at his face. "I promise you, they won't."

"But-"

"No," you said, cutting him off with a gentle peck on the lips. "No buts. Just listen to me."

He didn't say anything, but he nodded quietly, giving you permission to go on.

"You were racing. You had a chance. There was a gap, so you went for it, like any good driver would. Sure, it closed, but that wasn't your fault. Oscar broke early to try to defend, and you just got caught out. That's not your fault. You tried, and you're okay, and that's what matters."

"Yeah, but I fucked it up," he protested. "I should've known there wouldn't be space. I should've been smarter, I should've-"

"Stop," you said, cutting him off again. "Stop saying that. It's not your fault at all."

"But-"

You cut him off with another kiss, this one firmer than the last. "Respectfully, just shut the fuck up," you mumbled, pressing your lips against his again.

He relaxed against you, humming into your mouth. He kissed you back, bringing his hands up to your cheeks and tilting your head slightly.

You brought one hand up to the back of his head, gently holding him in peace against you.

He pulled back slightly to breathe, resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he murmured, rubbing his thumbs across your skin.

"I love you too," you responded softly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I'm sorry for being stupid," he mumbled. "For making you have to fix me like this."

"Don't be," you said, rubbing a hand over his back. "You know I'm never going to let you feel like that. You know I'll always do whatever I can to make you feel better."

"Even if I'm being stupid?"

"Especially if you're being stupid," you chuckled.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes and holding you against him. "Please don't ever leave."

"I won't," you whispered, closing your own eyes as well. "I'm yours. Forever and always."

"Always and forever."

He tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you slowly. He poured every emotion running through his mind into the kiss, and you let him.

"It's not my fault," he murmured softly against your lips, so quietly you almost didn't hear him.

But you did though, and you smiled.

He was okay. That was all that mattered.

Author's note: this is pretty short, but safe to say I had some emotions after seeing that crash, and wanted to write something sweet for Lando

[ruebossanova]

her watch: the series - part 2: spoiled & watched

bodyguard!abby x female!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: SLOWBURN, eventual smut, olderlabby x younger!reader, reader is spoiled & bratty but sweet, nyc rich socialite vibe (think gossip girl),

summary: you finally meet abby anderson — tall, cold, unreadable — and you’re instantly intrigued. you give her a tour of the mansion, curiosity blooming between stolen glances and lingering stares. later, over a quiet dinner meant for two, the air turns thick with tension and unspoken thoughts. almost isn’t quite enough, and abby pulls away just in time — reminding you both what she’s really here for. but the line’s been drawn now, and neither of you can stop looking.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

————————————————————————————

you didn’t wait for your mother to offer a tour. the moment abby was officially yours — whatever that meant — you stepped forward, a light smile playing on your lips. “i’ll show you around,” you said, already turning on your heel before she could respond.

her footsteps followed behind you, quiet but heavy, the way you’d expect from someone trained to move with purpose. still, it made your stomach twist knowing those footsteps would be following you everywhere now. “it’s kind of ridiculous,” you said casually, motioning to the high ceilings and wide halls. “my mom likes to pretend we’re in some victorian-era estate. you’re gonna get lost at least once.”

“i’ll manage,” abby replied coolly, eyes flicking over each space you passed — like she was memorizing the layout. or maybe she was just looking for blind spots. her voice was low and rough in a way that made you glance back, more than once. you showed her the main living room, the sitting room no one sat in, the library you only used for its aesthetic, and the dining room that seated twelve even though there were only three of you. she didn’t say much, but you could feel her presence in every room. tall. broad. watchful. it was overwhelming, but in a good way.

you led her upstairs last, turning down the hall that led to the west wing — your side of the house. “this is you,” you said, stopping in front of her door. “they finished setting it up yesterday. closet’s empty. mirror’s new. bathroom’s just inside.”

“thanks,” she said simply, hand resting briefly on the doorknob. she didn’t go in. instead, she looked at you — and not just the way security usually looked at you. it was sharper, quieter. attentive. you nodded down the hall. “i’m just over there,” you said, motioning to your bedroom. “so don’t snore. or do. i guess i’ll find out.”

her lips twitched slightly — the barest ghost of a smirk. you started to turn away, but paused. her eyes were still on you. and yours, without thinking, dropped.

to her mouth.

just for a second.

her lips were full, a little chapped, and you imagined for a split moment what it would feel like to press your thumb against them. she tilted her head just slightly, and when your eyes snapped back to hers, you knew she’d caught you.

you cleared your throat and turned quickly, your heart thudding too hard in your chest.

later, after you’d both settled into your rooms and taken separate showers — and after you’d changed into something soft and sweet — you made your way downstairs.

your pink silk set clung gently to your skin, the shorts a little shorter than they needed to be. you told yourself it didn’t matter. it was just dinner. just the two of you. your parents had already retreated for the night, as usual, lost in their routines.

you were barefoot when you padded into the kitchen, tugging open the fridge for leftovers.

“you like pasta?” you asked over your shoulder.

“i’ll eat anything,” abby replied. her voice came from behind you, closer than you expected.

you turned, eyes falling on her.

wife beater. low-hanging sleep shorts. damp hair.

her biceps flexed slightly as she leaned against the doorway. you weren’t trying to stare, but your eyes didn’t get the memo. they lingered just a little too long — and when you glanced back up, she was watching you.

“what?” you asked, pretending to play it cool, even as you turned back to make plates. your skin burned beneath her gaze.

“nothing,” she said, voice a little lower now. like she knew exactly what game you were playing.

you bit your lip and smiled to yourself, the silence between you thick with something that definitely wasn’t fear.

maybe being spoiled wasn’t such a bad thing — not if it meant being watched like that.

you sat at the kitchen island while abby leaned against the opposite counter, both of you eating in the quiet hum of the house. the clink of silverware and the soft hum of the fridge were the only sounds for a while. you liked it — the quiet didn’t feel awkward. it felt heavy. watchful. like her eyes were still on you even when you weren’t looking.

you took a slow bite of pasta, watching her from beneath your lashes.

“so,” you said softly, “do you always move in with the girls you’re protecting? or am i just that special?”

abby didn’t answer right away. she glanced at you, one brow lifting. “this isn’t exactly standard,” she admitted. “but you’re… a high profile situation.” you smirked. “you can just say i’m difficult.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“but you thought it.”

her lips curved, just slightly. her plate was nearly empty. you’d only eaten half of yours — too distracted by how her arms looked when she flexed to cut the bread, or the way her mouth moved around each slow, thoughtful chew. “so… abby,” you said, rolling her name on your tongue a little too intentionally, “what did they tell you about me?”

she took a sip of water, then shrugged. “spoiled. stubborn. smart.” you blinked, caught a little off guard. “you think i’m smart?” she met your gaze evenly. “i think you know how to get what you want. that takes some intelligence.” you tilted your head. “and do i seem like i’m trying to get something from you right now?”

a long pause.

abby looked at you. really looked. her eyes dropped, just briefly — to your legs crossed over each other, the hint of your thigh peeking out beneath the hem of your silk shorts. then they came back up. slow.

“i think you’re testing me.”

your stomach flipped.

you pushed your plate away gently and stood, walking around the island until you were in front of her. not too close, but close enough to feel the difference in your sizes. close enough to smell the faint scent of her clean skin — warm soap, cedar, and something deep and sharp, like gun oil.

“and what if i am?” you asked, voice light, teasing.

she looked down at you. quiet. unreadable. her hand gripped the counter behind her.

for a moment, everything stilled. the kitchen, the house, the city outside your window. just you and her and the silence that suddenly felt like it might shatter.

you tilted your chin up, green-brown eyes locked on hers. do it, something whispered inside you. kiss me.

her gaze flicked to your mouth.

once.

twice.

and then she took a deep breath and stepped back.

“no,” she said, voice firm, steady — but her jaw clenched. “that’s not what this is.”

you blinked, heart pounding in your ears.

“what?” you whispered, though you’d heard her.

“i’m here to protect you. that’s all.”

you didn’t argue. not because you agreed — but because you weren’t stupid. you saw the look in her eyes. she wanted you. she just didn’t want to want you. you stepped back too, pretending like it hadn’t shaken you. “fine,” you said, your voice sweeter than necessary. “goodnight, abby.”

and you walked away barefoot, silk swaying with every step.

sleep didn’t come easily.

you tossed and turned in your expensive sheets, body too warm, brain too loud. every time you closed your eyes, you saw hers. that flicker. that almost. you wondered if she was awake. if she was lying in that room just down the hall thinking the same thing. probably not.

you drifted eventually, curled into yourself, still wearing the same silk set.

⸻

morning came with sunlight and the smell of eggs.

you blinked awake slowly, confused by the sound of movement downstairs. stretching, you padded into your bathroom, ran a brush through your curls, and tugged on a hoodie over your set before slipping out into the hall.

you found her in the kitchen.

abby stood at the stove, flipping eggs onto two plates. she wore a different tank top today, grey instead of white, and her hair was pulled into a low bun at the nape of her neck. she looked… comfortable. domestic, even.

“you cook?” you asked, stepping into the room.

she glanced at you, then at your legs again, before flicking her eyes back up.

“i eat. so yeah.”

you smiled, stepping up beside her. “wasn’t expecting room service on top of everything else.”

she handed you a plate wordlessly and nodded to the island. you both sat again — this time across from each other. the air wasn’t quite as heavy as last night, but the tension still hummed just under the surface.

“what do you usually do on saturdays?” she asked, like she hadn’t nearly kissed you last night.

“brunch with friends,” you replied. “maybe shopping, maybe a museum. depends on the vibe. i don’t really plan things — i just go.”

she nodded once, sipping her coffee.

you twirled a piece of toast between your fingers. “so you’ll be tagging along for everything now?”

“that’s the job.”

you leaned your chin into your hand. “do i at least get to pick your outfits?”

she looked at you, expression unreadable again. “no.”

you smiled. “we’ll see.”

and just like that, the game had begun again.

⸻

after breakfast, the house settled into its usual soft stillness. the kind of silence that felt expensive — wide halls, high ceilings, marble that echoed your footsteps. normally, you’d spend your saturday flitting in and out of it, brushing through your parents’ staff like you owned the place (because, really, you kind of did). but today, you didn’t feel like leaving.

you wandered into the living room where abby was doing something on her phone — probably checking security feeds, maybe texting someone who only knew her as a soldier, not a shadow. she looked up when you entered.

“we should hang out,” you said simply, curling into the arm of the couch across from her.

abby raised a brow. “hang out?”

you shrugged. “yeah. you’re going to be stuck with me every day — might as well get to know me, right?”

she hesitated, then tucked her phone away. “what do you have in mind?”

your eyes brightened. “come outside.”

the backyard was, as always, picture-perfect: manicured hedges, blooming florals, and a turquoise pool glittering in the sun. you’d changed into a delicate cream-colored bikini, the kind made for lounging and being admired — not for actual swimming. abby followed you out in her same grey tank and black athletic shorts, standing near the patio with her arms crossed.

“you’re not getting in?” you asked, standing at the edge of the pool, toe skimming the water.

abby gave a short shake of her head. “not my thing.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled, then slipped in with a little splash, water hugging your curves. you swam a few slow laps while she stood back, quiet, watchful. always watching. eventually, you paddled to the edge and pulled yourself up, arms folded on the ledge, chin resting on them as you looked up at her.

“okay,” you said. “we’re playing a game.”

abby narrowed her eyes. “what kind of game?”

“questions. i ask, you answer. then you ask me.”

“…pass.”

“nope. you agreed to hang out — this is the tax.”

a pause. then, with the faintest of sighs, she dropped into a seat on one of the shaded loungers.

“fine,” she said. “go ahead.”

you grinned.

“what’s your favorite color?”

“grey.”

“shocking,” you teased. “okay. your turn.”

“why did your mom say you’re difficult?”

you blinked, not expecting her to go there so quickly. “because she doesn’t like when i think for myself. or push back. she likes control. and i like…” you trailed off. “freedom.” abby nodded once. “makes sense.” you smiled faintly. “your turn again.”

“what’s your biggest fear?” you were quiet for a beat. “being alone. like — really alone. unloved. unseen.” abby’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes did. “your turn,” you said, softer now. she looked away for a moment, then back at you. “i don’t like talking about myself.”

you tilted your head. “that’s not a pass.” “…i guess,” she said slowly, “i’m afraid of losing control. not being able to stop something. failing someone who trusts me.” you didn’t say anything right away.

the sun was warm on your skin. the water dripped gently from your elbows. you were watching her now — the strength in her arms, the quiet in her voice, the way she gave you that piece of herself like it was a confession.

“you’re not gonna fail me,” you said. she didn’t answer. but her jaw tensed like she wanted to believe you.

evening fell slowly.

you got out of the pool after an hour or so, wrapped in a plush towel and smiling as you padded barefoot back into the house. abby followed a few steps behind, eyes flicking down every time your towel shifted just a little too high.

after showering (again), you changed into something softer than last night — a matching ivory set this time, cotton and ribbed, with a tank that hugged your chest and shorts that barely covered anything. you knew what you were doing. you always did.

abby, meanwhile, came down dressed almost identically to how she’d arrived. black again. loose sweats and a fitted tee. you wondered how many black shirts she owned.

“movie?” you asked, flopping onto the velvet couch.

“your pick,” she said.

you threw on something that you barely watched. the room was dim, lit only by the flicker of the TV and the amber glow of a side lamp. you sat a little closer than necessary. your bare thigh brushed her knee more than once. halfway through the movie, you turned to her and said, “do you ever get tired of pretending you don’t want things?”

abby looked at you, face unmoving. “do you?”

you smiled. “no. i’m not very good at hiding it.”

her eyes dropped to your mouth again.

you held her gaze. the moment stretched. stretched.

then she stood. sudden. sharp.

“i’m gonna check the perimeter,” she muttered, already walking toward the door.

you sat back, exhaling shakily. heart racing.

you didn’t see her again until much later. when she passed your door, you caught the sound of her footsteps, the soft creak of the floorboards. you almost called out. almost asked her to come in.

but you didn’t.

⸻

sunday morning begins quiet. the city hums outside your window, but inside your room, everything feels soft and still. you wake slowly, tangled in satin sheets, your body warm and relaxed, your thoughts already drifting to abby. you find a little note slipped under your door, the handwriting unfamiliar but blocky, neat:

morning run. back in 30. stay inside. — abby

you smile to yourself, a little too wide for something so simple. so you wait.

you walk quietly to her room, still in your tiny pajamas, hair brushed into a loose, soft style, skin glowing from your morning skincare. you’re not trying to look good. not really. you just… want to see her reaction.

when you hear the front door open, your heart skips.

footsteps. heavy ones. hers.

you position yourself on the bed just so — legs folded, back straight, phone in hand like you’ve just been casually scrolling. the door creaks open and abby walks in, towel slung around her neck, her tank damp with sweat, jaw tense from exertion.

she freezes.

“…didn’t know you’d be in here,” she says, voice low and careful, eyes flicking once to your bare thighs, then immediately to the wall behind you.

“where else would i be?” you ask innocently, tilting your head. “your note didn’t say i had to wait anywhere specific.”

her gaze drops, just for a second, and you see the way her throat bobs when she swallows. she says nothing, just exhales slowly and walks toward her bathroom to shower.

but not without glancing back. just once.

you grin.

the day moves slowly, deliberately. you pull her into little moments — asking her to sit on the couch with you while you read a magazine, requesting help reaching the top shelf in the pantry, brushing your fingers against her wrist when you hand her your phone to see something. it’s innocent. technically.

in the afternoon, you change into your favorite bikini — tiny, delicate, baby pink — and call for her.

“pool time,” you say, already slipping out the back door.

abby follows reluctantly, dressed in a black sports bra and loose workout shorts, sunglasses over her eyes. she doesn’t get in the water, just sits in the lounge chair with a bottle of water and her arms crossed, watching. always watching.

“you sure you don’t wanna swim?” you tease, treading water lazily. “might help you cool off.”

she raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

you float closer to the edge of the pool, chin resting on your arms. “so… i know a lot about your job. but not much about you.”

she sighs softly. “not much to know.”

“i don’t believe that,” you say. “what were you like before this?”

she’s quiet for a moment. then, softly: “angrier.”

you blink. “are you angry now?”

“not as much.”

you sit up straighter. “why?”

she looks at you, really looks at you, and you feel it in your chest. “don’t know. maybe because of this job. maybe because of you.”

your breath hitches.

the conversation turns softer, darker, quieter. she tells you about training. about fear. about control. you talk about loneliness. about being loved for who you are, not who your family is. about pretending to be okay when you’re not.

and suddenly the sun is setting. the sky goes violet, golden, and the city outside your gates seems far, far away.

that night, you make popcorn and insist on a movie — something old, black-and-white. you curl up on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, and pat the space beside you without looking.

abby sits. stiffly.

you shift closer, just slightly, and she doesn’t move away.

during the slowest scene — where the lovers in the film stare at each other like time has stopped — you glance up at her. abby’s jaw is tight. her eyes flick to your lips.

you don’t mean to lean in. not really. it just happens.

you’re so close your breaths mix, your noses almost brush — but she pulls back. fast. her hand reaches between you, pressing lightly to your collarbone, stopping you.

“don’t,” she says, voice thick. “this isn’t why i’m here.”

your chest tightens, but you nod. “i know.”

a pause.

“goodnight,” she murmurs.

you watch her walk down the hall, back straight, steps heavier than usual. the tension hangs in the air even after she’s gone.

and when you finally lay down to sleep, all you can think about is how close she got.

and how much closer you want her.

[tea-biscuits-books]

invisible string

bob reynolds x reader

⚜️🥂🦾🌫️⚡️*️⃣

sunmary : you never believed in soulmates…until one day you feel a pull

word count : 3.2k

a/n - ik bob doesnt canonically have a little sister but hear me out - protective older brother hcs?

!soulmate trope !invisible string trope • brief mentions of steve x reader, !platonic bucky x reader

song : invisible string - taylor swift

⚜️🥂🦾🌫️⚡️*️⃣

You don’t believe in soulmates. They’re silly little children’s stories, the type that lull little girls to sleep with dreams of princes and fairytale endings. The simple truth is that the only prince that saves you is yourself. You thought someone was your soulmate once. Blonde, charming and a grin that made girls swoon, and pretty blue eyes that gazed at you with something you could only describe as adoration. ‘Doll,’ he called you with that voice that whispered promises late at night into your ear. ‘Stevie,’ You called him. He was ‘Captain America, Steve Rogers,’ to the world, but in your small little protective bubble he was yours and you were his. Until he left. With a briefcase in one hand, and your heart in the other, until he arrived back a couple seconds later, wrinkled with age and a golden ring wrapped around his finger. His eyes, still cornflower blue and just as alight with youth.

“Stevie.” You acknowledge, as if it was merely a casual greeting.

“Doll.” You can hear your voice break, feel your hands tremble by your sides, feel the burning hot blurring of your vision. You watch his lips move to form the familiar nickname. Doll. It had been years for him, minutes for you and it seemed to elict the same bittersweet sting within your chest as always.

“Was the dance worth it?” you breathe. There’s a pause, as if contemplating breaking your heart even further. And then he gives the tiniest nod. And you feel everything inside you shatter just one last time. And only when he turns around, you let a tear slip through the crevice of your mosaic heart.

You always thought these galas were a waste of time. You hide your scoff in your bubbling champagne glass, downing it within two gulps, plucking another from a passing waiter. Political opinions, the soft tinks of wine glasses, and the murmured chatter that was for only one purpose. To build connections. Frankly, quite stupid if you did say so yourself. You had to spend money on nails, to get your hair done and a new dress, though it wasn’t like you were short on assets. Your father had hosted too many charity events in his time, and yet every time he seemed to get drunker than the last, and each time people let him; merely because he was Tony Stark. Genius, philanthropist, billionaire, ironman and devoted father. Those were the titles that stained his name, etched into history books for ions to come. You never expected to be dragged into legal drama after Tony died. But then again, you never expected the government to repackage his legacy into a glossy, weaponized PR stunt. The Thunderbolts— John Walker (ew), Valentina Allegra De Fontaine (who names their child that?!), Bucky Fucking Barnes (backstabbing bitch), Ava Starr (eh), Alexei Shostakov (ehh), Yelena Belova (you weren’t necessarily opposed to her), and now Robert Reynolds (the guy who practically voided New York out of existence)—are being marketed as the “New Avengers” It’s not just insulting. It’s theft. Sam made his stance loud and clear. He filed a lawsuit backed by people who actually understand what the Avengers stood for. And since you’re a Stark with a law degree tucked between your engineering certifications and your grief, you’re now the face behind the suit. That’s why you’re here. This gala isn’t a party. It’s a battleground, dressed in tuxedos and champagne flutes. You’re here to corner Bucky. Strapped into heels far too high for comfort and wrapped in the kind of gown that demanded attention- coloured deep wine red and your hair was done in cascading curls—thick and glossy, tumbling down your back like a waterfall of y/h/c silk. You’re halfway through the crowd—eyes sharp, mouth neutral—when something shifts. You feel it like a snap in your chest. Not pain. Not panic. Just… tension. Like something soft winding around your ribs and gently pulling forward. Its insistent, a small tug that lures you to the target of the small annoyance. And…its…not who you expected. Robert Reynolds, fiddling with his tie, clad in a dark tuxedo, hair tentatively placed and smoothed with gel, dark and thick and looks soft enough for you to run your fingers through. And before you know it, your heels are striding across the floor with soft clicking that warns him of your upcoming presence. You hear the shuffle of his feet nervously, as he raises his eyes to meet yours, easily towering over your despite the 5 inches your shoes assist your height with. The first thing you notice is how warm his eyes are. They’re a soft brown, almost golden around the edges—eyes that looked too human for someone like him. The type of honeyed amber that reminded you of cocoa that hadn’t been stirred properly, dark and cloudy and a little too easy to sink into if you weren’t careful. You could feel the pressure behind them—barely restrained power, fragile control. One blink too long, and the Void might blink back. His lips twitch, his mouth opening then closing.

“You’re Y-Y/N Stark.” You let out a soft laugh at his stutter, his cheeks tinging pink at the sound.

“And you’re Robert Reynolds and you’re my key to finding Bucky Barnes tonight.”

“Bucky’s occupied at the moment-” He pauses for a moment as if contemplating his next words.

“And you can call me Bob.” The words hang in the air for a moment, unsure, but spoken with the tiniest curve of his lips.

“Bob. Right.” You murmur, sighing, your eyebrows furrowing as you begin to mumble incoherently. Bob’s face falls slightly as he stumbles over his next words.

“B-but he will be back soon. Valentina’s just sent him out-why do you want him anyway?” He covers his mouth.

“Sorry, I get talkative when I’m nervous I shouldn’t have asked that I’m sorry-” You wince at the steady pouring of words from his mouth as he stops to catch his breath.

“It’s alright Rober-Bob.” You catch yourself, watching as his face lights up, like a Christmas light.

“I’m here to talk to Bucky about coming home.” You watch as his face creases into confusion, his brows puckering.

“But Bucky is home,” He protests softly. You stop for a moment.

“Bucky’s home is with us.” You respond firmly.

“Sam, Joaqin and I. Away from those deranged fuckups and that psycho Valentina.” You can’t help the venomous words spilling and spitting from your mouth, they tumble out like dominoes, thoughts that had marinated a little too long so that it hurt and weighed down your chest.

“They’re not fuckups.” You turn your head back to him, feeling his eyes intensely stare at yours. They crumble slightly at your harsh gaze, but he doesn’t back down.

“Alexei, John, Yelena, Ava. They’re not fuckups. They saved me. They’re family.” You purse your lips, turning away.

“We’re Bucky’s family.” You murmur softly into the night. You don’t hear a response, already striding towards the shadowed figure that emerges into the bustling ballroom. As you increase the distance between the two of you, you attempt to ignore the pull that pulses in your chest, an invisible cord straining and unravelling in between the both of you.

“But-” Bob doesn’t finish, the words falling off his tongue as you walk away, his eyes following your retreating figure. His hand drops uselessly to his side, the apology dying in his throat. He wants to call after you, to explain, to do something, but his feet feel cemented to the floor and his chest aches with all the things he didn’t say soon enough.

“Bucky.” You greet, as you meet the dark eyes that remained cemented in your past, and hit a little too close to home. Dating Steve, Bucky was a constant, a close friend and companion that you trusted with your whole heart. He stiffens just slightly when his gaze meets yours—shoulders squared like he’s preparing for impact, and the soft sink of nostalgia and familiarity. Like everything was right except it wasn’t-like an old song that kept going out of tune. You remember long nights on the Tower rooftop, him nursing a drink while Steve paced and you laughed too loudly about things none of you had time to process. You remember what it felt like to have a family. Now, with Steve gone and the team scattered, seeing Bucky under this sharp lighting, in a pressed suit and behind the Thunderbolts’ name, feels like staring at a stranger who shares your grief.

“You look…” he starts, trailing off as his gaze flicks down to the wine-red of your gown.

“Different.”

“I had to,” you say simply. He nods, jaw tightening.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Believe me, I didn’t want to be.” There’s a silence—thick with everything unsaid. The lawsuit. Steve. The way this new team uses the Avengers name like it’s just another label to wear. You glance behind Bucky’s shoulder instinctively. Bob isn’t there. But the string still hums. You feel it like static in your chest. A pull. Not painful—yet—but persistent. Like something reminding you he’s still in the room.

“You came to talk to me?” Bucky asks. You look up into his face, noticing the unshaven but groomed stubble that peppered his chin, and hair was slicked back, unruly even under the product. You feel the words clog your throat, feel your palms sweat against the silky fabric that clings to your sides. You feel his eyes roam your figure, suddenly finding yourself unable to speak.

“I-I wanted to talk to you about Sam and-” Bucky dismisses you with a stiff shake of head. You see the bitter acceptance on his face.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I tried.” You sigh softly, finding his prosthetic hand tentatively. It feels too comforting, too familiar, the way the feeling of cold metal clashes with the warm flesh of your palm. It flexes against you involuntarily, pausing and contemplating and drawing back ever so slightly, before finally clasping it’s fingers around yours.

“Did you really? He wants to Buck-he just wants things to be normal again.” Your voice softens.

“He just wants you to come home.” Bucky drags his other hand down his face, his features contorting into frustration.

“Well he ruined that the minute he filed a lawsuit against us.” His tone turns sharp, like a knife that nicks against your heart as you release your grip on his hand slightly.

“Us?” Bucky shuffles on his feet nervously, avoiding your gaze.

“y’know, the team and I.”

“right. The New Avengers.” The words feel venomous on your tongue as you release your intertwined hands, finding yourself craving for some liqour therapy. This night was really not going as you thought it would be.

The moment the glass doors click shut behind you, the noise of the gala fades into a dull hum—just another party filled with expensive perfume and fragile egos. Out here, on the balcony high above New York, everything feels colder. Cleaner. The wind snakes through the air, tugging at the curls pinned behind your ear, and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The city sprawls out beneath you—steel and light and memory. It’s beautiful in that chaotic, untouchable way. Just like it always was. You take a sip of your champagne. Then another. This one longer, more deliberate. The bubbles burn slightly down your throat, but it’s the sharpness you’re chasing. A distraction. Something fizzy and sweet to fill the ache in your chest that even fresh air can’t quite clear. You grip the edge of the stone railing, cool beneath your fingertips, and tip your head back. Inhale. One, two. The air tastes like autumn and exhaust and the faintest trace of rain, and somehow it still feels better than anything in there. Behind you, there’s music. Laughter. Chatter. The world pretending everything’s fine. Out here, it’s quiet. Out here, you can think. And try to ignore the golden thread tugging gently at your ribs—reminding you that someone else is still in there. Still waiting. Still watching. It’s become insistent, painful, dragging your eyes over to his presence like an addictive sensation until they linger for just a moment too long and his eyes snap to yours and you have to pull your stare while your cheeks painfully colour like an embarrassed teenage schoolgirl.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” The voice is soft—low and warm, like honey stirred into coffee—and it startles you more than it should. You don’t turn around. Not yet.

“I’ve been alone for a while, Bob,” you say quietly, fingers curling tighter around the champagne flute. The glass is nearly empty. The sky above you is wide and starless. Below, New York pulses—bright and careless. You feel him step closer. Not enough to crowd you. Just close enough that the string between you pulls a little tighter.

“I know,” he says.

“I felt it.” That makes you pause.

“You feel it too?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat as he slowly nods.

“I thought I was just being delusional.” You redirect your eyes from his face to the skyline, watching the city lights bounce off each other, bustling traffic piercing the cool night air, leaning into the ornate railing. You watch his shoulders lose some of its tension from the corner of your vision, feeling the heat burn off him and seep into your bare arms, hear the breaths that let his chest rise and fall. The light from the ballroom spills faintly behind him, catching the edges of his soft brown hair with hints of gold where the light caught it and the soft brown of his eyes—almost too soft for someone who’s seen what he has. Almost.

“I have a theory. Just hear me out,” He holds up his hands, splaying his fingers out in a gesture of innocence.

“Soulmates. An invisible golden thread knots them together when they meet.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” You laugh.

“Soulmates? What, we meet and fall in love?” A faint blush colors his cheeks—something you’ve started to notice happens more than he probably knows.

“No. We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies.” He mumbles, tugging on his suit sleeve jacket. You turn then, slowly, leaning your shoulder against the railing as you meet his gaze.

“You believe in all this, don’t you?” you murmur.

“The string. The soulmate thing.” His eyes don’t waver.

“I didn’t used to.” You snort, a bitter sound.

“Right. But then we made eye contact across the room and your whole worldview changed?” He doesn’t smile, though his lips do twitch in amusement at your blunt tone. But he also doesn’t flinch.

“No,” he says.

“But then my sister met hers.” You swallow.

“Sister?”

“Emily.” He confirms.

“21 in November.” You hum, noting the tone of protectiveness and love laced into his words. It’s the way he says her name, like she’s everything good in the world. Like she’s the reason he still tries. Something about that disarms you. Just a little.

“You’re close.” Bob nods.

“She’s the reason I got better. She used to write letters to me. Even when I couldn’t answer. Even when I didn’t remember who I was.” You don’t speak. You just listen—watching how his gaze drifts out over the city, how the wind plays with a few unruly strands of his hair.

“When she found her soulmate,” he continues, voice quieter now,

“It wasn’t fireworks or fate or some magical golden thread. It was subtle. Gradual. And terrifying. But I saw it change her. I saw her start breathing easier.” You study him in the dim light, unsure what to say.

“After that, I stopped rolling my eyes at the stories.” Your chest tightens. You’d mocked the golden string too—chalked it up to desperate hope or people needing something to believe in after the world had already ended five different ways. But now you feel it. Thin as breath. Quiet as a whisper. Pulling between you and him.

“I don’t want to believe in something just because it’s convenient,” you hear yourself say.

“Because it would make things… easier.” Bob finally turns to you again. And this time, he doesn’t look away.

“It doesn’t make anything easier,” he says softly, eyes burning into you.

“It just makes it real.” You take another sip of your champagne, though it doesn’t burn the way it did earlier. It’s lost its fizz. Or maybe you’re too distracted to notice it. The city below continues to hum—uncaring, alive.

“Do you feel it?” you ask, voice barely audible.

“Even now?” He nods. Once.

“Every time you speak,” he says. “Like something pulls a little tighter.”

You don’t respond right away. Just ponder on his words. ‘We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies’

“You know I have a story, on why they exist.” Filling the silence stretching between the pair of you.

“Soulmates exist because they’re two halves of a quantum entanglement—a pair of souls linked beyond space and time, their energies forever intertwined. No matter the distance, no matter the trials, their strings pull taut to guide them back to each other.”

“Now you’re speaking my language. Science.” You laugh softly.

“Quantum entanglement huh?” Bob nods, smile widening ever so slightly at your laugh. He made you do that. He made you laugh.

“And we could be whatever we want to?”

“Anything.” You step closer, the tension between you thick enough to taste. Without a word, you brush your fingers lightly against his jaw, then lean in—just for a moment—to press a soft kiss on his cheek. You feel the golden string inside you leap, as if glowing and radiant between the two of you. Bob freezes, his eyes wide, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The warmth of your lips lingers, and for a second, he’s caught somewhere between stunned and completely undone. You pull back, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. Then, without another glance, you slip away—turning back inside the gala, leaving him standing alone on the balcony, heart pounding and face burning.

A week later, Bob lounges on the couch, book in hand, his eyes scanning the words but not quite reading them. His mind is stuck on the addictive feeling of warmth, the feeling of your lips pressed against the skin of his jaw, the red that bloomed on his cheeks. The feeling of you. The elevator rings, resonating throughout the common room of the tower as Valentina enters, holding up his suit jacket – freshly dry cleaned. And in the other hand- a crinkled slip of paper with numbrs inked in blue ink—Your number. Before he can react, Valentina’s voice cuts through the utter mortification that races in his mind and shows on his face.

“Well, well,” she says, eyebrow raised and knowing smirk wide on her face.

“Care to explain who this belongs to?” Bob’s blush deepens, a nervous laugh escaping as he tries to find words.

“It’s… complicated.”

[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Hi babies! I've missed you so much, here is the new chapter. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think :)

Let me know if you want to be TAGGED!

Warnings: Domestic abuse.

Words: 2.790K

Chapter Six

Bucky made the kid wear the helmet, and together they rode to 24/7 open shop, Y/N’s second job. He didn’t want to look like a predator and also didn’t want to be an asshole but he had a good excuse now. Helping the kid getting something to eat, and keeping him company was something he wanted to do and also seeing her was a cherry on top.  He only wished that Steve one day would grow up to be a nice gentleman. Once he parked the bike on the same spot he removed the helmet from the kid and helped him get off, ‘’You’re going to meet a friend of mine so be nice. She is very important to me.’’ He warned playfully and nudged him, Steve chuckled and made fun of Bucky, all he did was roll his eyes. ‘’Alright alright. Let’s go.’’

The doors opened and they walked inside the store, the fluorescent lights welcomed them first and then he watched her get up from the most likely uncomfortable chair and smile at them. Bucky could see the questioning in her eyes, ‘’Hey Steve, this is Y/N.’’ his hand was on the kid’s shoulder, they approached to the desk. ‘’Hello Steve.’’ She extended her hand to the kid, even though she looked tired Bucky could see the shine in her eyes, it was rare and he was happy to experience it. ‘’Nice to meet you ma’am.’’ Steve said as Bucky thought him once, he always told Steve to address women who were older than him as ‘’ma’am’’ even though this was modern times it was obvious that Bucky was a nostalgic man with seeking interactions from his past. Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, ‘’Nice to meet you too little man.’’ She replied with a sweet voice that Bucky wanted to record and listen to it later. ‘’Steve, why don’t you skim the aisles and find something to eat, and pick a treat for Alpine?!’’ Bucky told the kid and he just nodded and left them alone. Bucky turned back to Y/N, ‘’Alpine?’’ she asked rather curiously, ‘’My cat.’’ Bucky responded shortly. There was a pause between them, she sat back down, ‘’He seems like a nice boy.’’ She commented to get a reaction out of him, was Steve his child? His nephew? Because she had noticed the bruise on the kid’s face and she wasn’t happy about it, and the only reason she kept her calm was to not make the child uncomfortable. She knew how it could be once the wounds are recognized by a pair of peculiar eyes.

Bucky immediately picked up on that, ‘’Yeah he is, he is uh.. my neighbor’s kid. Brought him here so that he could have some break from his parents fighting.’’ He had to explain to make it clear. Y/N couldn’t believe her ears, every time she had given up on humanity someone or something would prove her otherwise and this time Bucky, the stranger she had met few weeks ago was bringing his neighbor’s kid to the store so that the kid would be away from the trauma for a while. She had this sudden urge to jump from the counter and hug him, thank him for looking out for someone without expecting anything in return. She had to put her body’s pressure on her heels so that she wouldn’t do that, ‘’That’s kind of you to look out for him.’’ She commented, her eyes on his blue ones, so easy to get lost in them so she busied herself with something on the counter. Bucky only shrugged his shoulder, didn’t know how to respond when someone, especially her made a sweet comment about something he did. They stood there in silence, before Bucky could ask or say anything a group of young men entered and Bucky stepped aside to watch to be honest… glare.

They were a group of four and in their mid 20s, probably college students. Bucky observed them and the way Y/N greeted them, she like always she had a smile but it was small and hollow not like the ones she gave him which made his chest and pants feel tighter than usual. The three of the men went to get whatever they wanted but one of them stayed to chat with her, Bucky’s hands were in the pockets of his pants, he was leaning against the near wall, glaring holes at the back of the man’s body.

‘’So… do you always work here beautiful?’’ he dared to ask her a question, he wasn’t a skinny man but not beefy either, he had golden locks and a charming smile, he was leaning slightly on the counter, ‘’Yes.’’ She replied nonchalantly, ‘’I should come here more often then.’’ The scumbag was about to lose his vocal chords if he kept talking at her like that and Bucky was happy to do it with his bare hand. ‘’Everyone is welcomed here to shop.’’ Y/N was keeping herself busy on the counter, she had always experienced something like that so it was normal to her but with a quick glance what she saw was that Bucky’s crystal blue eyes turning dark, his lips were a flat line and he looked like if she gave him the word he would jump at the guy, she felt powerful in a way but maybe she was imagining things, maybe Bucky was just waiting for Steve to finish shopping. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, every time she did that she was disappointed to her bones. The blonde guy’s friends came with snacks and packs of beer, Y/N scanned them and then one of them paid, ‘’See ya later!’’ the blonde said with a wink, she didn’t say anything, only gave him an empty smile and thankfully the group left, Bucky pushed himself from the wall he was leaning on, he approached, his boots were heavy on the white floors. ‘’Does this happen often?’’ of course it did, with a pretty face like that Bucky was surprised she wasn’t kidnapped, that thought gave him a nasty idea which he pushed away, he wanted things to be smooth and natural. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, ‘’I don’t mind, mostly they’re harmless.’’ She couldn’t face him, she couldn’t show that she was scared but she also felt somewhat safe with his presence. Bucky sighed in frustration, she had a ‘’boyfriend’’ who let her work for hours and deal with disrespectful and potentially dangerous men…. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her so hard that she would wake up from her trance but no, she had to come to him willingly. Soon Steve came with a sandwich, a juice box and a treat for Alpine. ‘’Finally found the one you like?’’ Y/N she asked as he scanned the items, ‘’Yeah, Bucky always gets me this one, it’s delicious.’’ It was true, Bucky would get that sandwich for him or give him the money to buy it as he went to school. ‘’Oh?’’ she looked at Bucky, ‘’Maybe I should try it, since you said it’s delicious.’’ Little Steve was oblivious to the chemistry between the adults so he was eager to eat his sandwich and drink his juice, Y/N got a pack of gums also but didn’t scan it, ‘’Here you go.’’ She gave the items to the little kid, ‘’I thought you might enjoy gums, it’s on me.’’ And she winked, ‘’No please-‘’ Bucky began but she silenced him, ‘’I want to, Bucky.’’ Her voice was soft and she was looking under those lashes, the way she said his name almost made him drop to his knees. ‘’Alright.’’

He raised his hands in defeat, ‘’Say thank you Steve.’’ Little kid was tearing the package of the sandwich, ‘’Thank you ma’am.’’ He said in hurry which made Y/N chuckle and Bucky liked the sound of it. ‘’How about giving me a hug?’’ Y/N asked Steve as she left the counter and came to stand before the duo, she knelt and gave him a hug, she liked children and in that moment she slightly hoped for a child but then she pulled her back to reality, Leo wasn’t interested in that, he never brought it up and when she did Leo would always say he wasn’t ready and would always bring out the negative aspects of having kids, she had given up on asking and talking about that topic long ago. ‘’See you around kid.’’ She got up and turned to Bucky who was watching the scene in awe, she was an angel and Y/N was slowly making him believe that there is still good in this world. ‘’See you around too… Bucky.’’ She addressed him, her hands on her hips,  he was trying so hard to sound normal, ‘’Yeah, see you around.’’ Bucky said, his eyes boring into her soul deeply, ‘’Let’s go Steve.’’ He reluctantly announced and they left the shop together. Bucky rolled his eyes at little Steve’s comments and helped him on the bike, he rode back to the apartment, made sure Steve got inside safe and then he gave quickly gave the treat to Alpine who was happy to see him, he pet her head and told her that he had to go back and guard Y/N’s work place, like a bodyguard.

He parked at his regular place, leaned on the bike and watched. He could see her walking inside, carry stuff, label things, he wanted to just go inside and pull her out of there, what kind of a man would let his woman work at a place like this? Or even let his woman work at all? He didn’t care if he was perceived as a cave man, that’s what he believed in. He made a mental note that if that little boy in his 20s ever came here again he was going to find his address and maybe pay a visit. He didn’t want to kill anyone but if it ever got to it then… he wouldn’t mind it since his intention would be protecting her. His blue eyes were scanning the area also, his super soldier mind calculating the fire escape route, or places to hide. A stray cat jumped from the trashcan near him and rubbed itself on his boots, he knelt down to pet the cat, it was black, long fur, it looked like a hybrid of Maine Coon. It looked the opposite of Alpine, Bucky’s cat Alpine was white as snow and this one was as black as coal. Stray animals have always been approaching him so he was used to it. Soon the cat left him, crossed the street and marched to the shop Y/N was working at, he checked his watch, her shift was over and then he looked at the shop’s door and there she was, out and feeding the black cat. So she was also a cat person like him, to find a common interest between them was a delight to him, Bucky thrived on that thought. Maybe she also wanted a cat but didn’t have the budget, or her ‘’boyfriend’’ didn’t want an animal in the house.. he rolled his eyes on that thought.

From the dark alley he was unseen by her so it gave him a comfort and a certain luxury to watch her, once she was done petting the animal she started to walk and that was his cue. He wore his helmet, got onto his bike and waited a little so that she wouldn’t be able to hear the engine, later he started to follow her like a shadow. Her routine was simple, she was going home and he knew. The city was getting louder and louder by the time sun rose to its rightful place. Bucky saw her stop for a second and looking up at her building, what was she thinking? And then with a defeat she lowered her head and walked inside. Bucky’s job was done for today.

Till next Monday Bucky couldn’t make his presence known, it would be too obvious so he lurked behind the shadows, leaned on the corners and watched her from afar. He was getting a coffee from that café closer to the flower shop, hanging around for few hours and then when it was evening he was in that same alley, leaning on his bike and making sure she had nice customers shopping there.

For Y/N the only nice day she had was when Bucky and his neighbor’s child came to the shop she was working because Leo was back at home, little happiness she had with her new acquaintances was gone and replaced with constant stress and feeling of threat. Whenever Leo took off and came back he would be in a very bad mood so they would argue a lot, she knew how to speak without provoking him but sometimes something would slip from her lips, a remark or a sarcastic comment and then she would be in danger. Tonight was one of those nights, it was Sunday and she was getting ready to sleep, Leo was drinking in the living room and she asked him to not leave any empty beer bottles on the floor because she had cut her feet early this morning, thankfully she had bandages at home but she was limping, it wasn’t going to be easy walking to her jobs for a few days. Leo, with a rush bolted to his feet and then started screaming, it was unintelligible but it was about something ’’I can do whatever I want! I live here!’’ etc. She tried to calm him down but he was getting worse and she said ‘’This isn’t your home!’’ it was true, it was her little home where she was happy and content until he came. That comment was the reason why Leo grabbed her by her throat and smashed her to the nearest wall. She was struggling for air, her hands trying to push Leo away from her but it was in vain, he was much taller and stronger than her. Soon Leo came to his senses, maybe he realized that he needed her even though she didn’t need him at all. Once she could breath normally she saw Leo walking back to the couch and finishing his beer, she slowly walked back to her bedroom and locked the door.

The next morning, Y/N had to wake up earlier than usual because she was limping and that was slowing her down. She got dressed, wore her blue jeans and a simple shirt, got her bag and left the apartment without a single sound, Leo was on the couch, snoring so she didn’t make him breakfast. On the way to the flower shop she had only one thing in her mind, Bucky. Was he going to come? Every Monday he came to purchase red roses, suddenly she wanted to hide, she wasn’t feeling well so she didn’t want to face him, his deep blue eyes seemed like they knew things about her that she didn’t even know. Maybe she could pass the rose order to Melanie, she would be very happy to attend him… and with that thought she had a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t like the idea. Y/N started working as soon as she arrived, so many orders to handle, Melanie was a bit late but Y/N wasn’t going to say  anything to their boss, she was a university student and probably had her assignments and finals draining her. ‘’Oh my God! What happened to your neck?!’’ Melanie froze as soon as she saw, in that moment Y/N cursed herself for forgetting to cover it with something, her hand instinctively went to her neck, ‘’It’s nothing..’’ she had to find something to change the subject and thankfully a customer entered. Throughout the day Y/N avoided Melanie, she kept herself busy and attended the customers, of course Melanie noticed her limping, she wanted to ask but she also felt like Y/N didn’t want to talk about it.

She dropped the topic for now. On their lunch break Y/N insisted on going to get some sandwiches but Melanie didn’t let her, she was limping so Melanie got her purse and just waltzed out of the flower shop in her long dress and wavy blonde hair, she was beautiful and Y/N noticed how the heads turned every time she entered a room, she looked healthy and happy which were the opposite of Y/N at the moment… and for a long time. Y/N sighed heavily and then jumped on the counter, waiting for Melanie, before she could react to what was happening it was too late because he had walked in.

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