#//put under a read more since it's long!!

[nymphoheretic]

Not Through Yet

Warnings: implied marathon sex, implied breeding, mentioning of pregnancy, unprotected sex, squirting, overstim, reader/MC passes out, praise, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), cum eating, caleb's arm has a useful feature (let me know if I'm missing anything)

Word count: 2.1k (I wrote this with my pussy on the keyboard)

A/N: This is straight smut all 2.1k of it and is kinda like a continuation of Unwanted Reunion, but can be read as standalone!

AO3

Network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

“C-Caleb, gunna cum...”

How many times have you said this sentence? How long has it been since Caleb pulled you from that interrogation room to his quarters on the Fleet’s ship to fuck you over and over, driving your body into overstimulation and making you so sensitive that the feeling of your own sweat rolling down your body was enough to make you cry out so wantonly. 

Every methodical drag of his cock through your gummy walls was enough to make your body tremble with another onslaught of shivers. You whimper when he turns your head to face his, lips finding yours and his tongue delving deep. Your pussy squeezes his cock just right, milking his balls of his seed as you drench his shaft in your creamy arousal.

“Go ahead. I’m right behind you, princess.” He moans so sweetly against your lips, a string of saliva still connects your tongues as he pumps his hips into your at a much slower pace than he had been. It was as if he was contradicting his words and prolonging your orgasm. The steady wet clap of his balls smacking against your sensitive, overstuffed cunt was almost enough to send you back spiraling.

Your back arches away from the bed, arms heavy from exhaustion as you lift them to wrap around his neck. “Can’t cum anymore, Caleb...s’tired...need t’rest.” His lips move to brush over your forehead as he pants out, hips still continuing their slow roll into yours. Caleb peppers kisses all over your sweaty forehead and down your cheek until he reaches your lips again. They were swollen from the many times he’s sucked them into his mouth, nibbled on them, just tasting your lips repeatedly. He couldn’t get enough of you. Caleb needed more of you. Feeding you his tongue to silence your whine, his left hand crawls down between your thighs and rubs slow, steady circles on your clit, working you up to another orgasm after the one you just had. “You got plenty in there for me, right? Yes, you do. C’mon~ Give me what I want, sweetheart.” Caleb coaxes gently, yet his tone was still even. Like he wasn’t being affected by the sheer overstim he was putting you both through.

You moan as your cunt releases its juices quickly over the thrumming of your clit pulsing under his fingers as he plucks at it like a finely tuned instrument. Your slick dribbles out, running down the crack of your ass to join the large, growing wet spot under you, drenching the sheets. “Fuck! Caleb! I can’t anymore!” Caleb simply curls his arms around your head, caging you in as his hips pick up in speed, the lewd schlick of your velvet heat taking his cock ringing out in the room. He couldn’t stop; wouldn’t stop. Not until you were swollen with how much of his cum he’s pumped inside you. Not until he’s gotten his fill of you. Until he’s gotten in a year's worth. But even then he wouldn’t be satisfied. Caleb craved you; vowed to always be there for you; to always protect you. And that’s what he was going to do.

He drags his cock through your slick walls, grunting at the way your walls cling to his shaft and trying to suck him back in deeper. A chuckle vibrates in his chest tingling down your lips as he suckles your tongue briefly before letting go. His thumb comes up to break away the thin string still connecting your lips, smearing it over yours as he smirks down at you. “That’s not what she’s saying.”

His hips snap into yours, thick cockhead battering against your cervix, kissing at the entrance to your womb. Sweat rolls down the side of his face, the clear droplet hanging from his chin until it splatters down onto your collarbone. “She is squeezing me so tightly, little one. It almost makes it hard to keep thrusting.”  He brings his bionic arm up to his lips and licks the tip of his middle and ring fingers, coating them in his saliva. “My hand also has a special feature I thought about just for you.”

You gasp when the cold digits touch your hot flesh as he trails them down your belly, a gentle vibration skimming across your skin. “Caleb, what?” You look down at his hand and see the fingers whirling and humming as they shake softly. Your head falls back against the pillows as your back arches away from the bed, hips pressing more into his as his fingers touch your clit. “Fuck! That’s feels...ah~” Your words are cut off in another fevered moan as Caleb rubs slow circles around your throbbing nub.

Caleb smiles sweetly, eyes full of affection, desire, and need as his cock batters against your womb, vastly contracting against his sweet words as his fingers vibrate on your clit. His lips find your sweaty forehead, tongue slipping out to collect the droplets of sweat to taste the salt of your skin as he presses tender kisses. “You used to always like when I did this~” His fingers press harder against your throbbing nub, the buzzing from the vibrations sending the neurons in your brain alight as your body bucks.

“Oh my god! Caleb!” Your voice comes out in a loud cry as your tears fall faster down your cheeks as the sting of overstim settles in your bones. Your clit twitches violently under his touch as your pussy clamps down tightly on his girth. You manage to jerk your legs away from your chest to wrap them tightly around his waist. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Oh, please?!” “Please?” He repeats in a teasing mockery mimic of your voice as his free hand comes to cup your jaw, his chest pressing into yours and making your overly sensitive nipples rub against his sweat slick skin and making you cry out even louder. He could feel the way your walls quiver around him. “Come on, little one. Stop being stubborn and let her wet me up again. You know you want to.” the vibrations quicken as he turns your face towards his, his tongue dipping out to curl into your mouth and swallows your screams.

Your back arches violently, nails of one hand digging into the sheet under you as the other rips through the flesh of his back. You feel him hissing against your lips as your dig your nails deeper into the muscles of his face, pussy clenching tightly around his shaft as your juices leak out of you like a faucet. The spray of hot liquid drenches his lower abdomen, thighs, pelvis, and drips down his shaft to soak up his balls. Cooling droplets roll down the crack of your ass before joining the pooling wet spot underneath you.

His grunts morph into moans as his hips studder, your slick walls massaging and trying to milk his cock for his seed. “Fuck...she’s clamping down on me so tightly. She must really be hungry for my cum? You want me to cum inside you. To fill you up and fuck it deeper before cleaning you up with my tongue, princess?” Caleb’s lips curl into a sweet smile when all you could do was let out babbles and broke pleas of his name. 

“Yeah? Say my name.” His left hand trails down your neck to your belly, fingertips swirling over the small bulge his cock was making. “Feel me right here, princess?” Caleb teases, making you whine out and tighten your legs around his waist. A chuckle vibrates through his chest as he leans back in and presses the sweetest of featherlight kisses to your lips as his cock twitches with your depths. 

A guttural moan leaves his throat as he snaps his hips and his back straightens, his heavy balls drawing up as his cum paints your insides white in his color. “Fuck, princess. That’s a good girl. Taking my cum like the slutty girl you are for me.” His right hand stops vibrating, your juices sliding down the digits as he brings them to your lips. “Go on, clean them up for me then I’ll clean up my mess.”

“Your mes-mmmph~” Your words are cut off in a muffled moan as Caleb slips his soaked metal fingers past your parted lips. You whimper at the musky taste of your own slick and the metallic tang of his fingers running over your taste buds and your eyes slide close. A hum vibrates in the muscles of your throat and chest as your curl your tongue over the cool digits, warming them with your saliva before swallowing around them.

“Atta girl...” His lilac eyes swirl with lust as he watches you clean his hand of your squirt as he slowly drags his cock through your sensitive gummy walls, his cum sloshing around from the movement. He eases his softening dick out your fucked out little hole and slowly dropped open mouth kisses down your chest. His tongue curls over one nipple, worshiping it his his teeth with light nibbles before moving down lower. His lips nuzzle against your belly; one day it will be rounded with his child.

 One day.

His kisses trail lower until he has your thighs cupping his head. Caleb’s eyes lock on the thin glob of his cum that oozes out of your hole and his mouth waters a bit. Resisting the urge to use two of his fingers to scoop it back in and push it in deeper, his tongue lolls out. The pointed tip of his pink muscle strokes over your slit from bottom to top, collecting the string on the flat of it. He moans at the taste of his sticky cum mixing with your slick as it spreads over his taste buds. Caleb feels you jolt, your hands flying to tangle in his hair to probably stop him, but he uses his evol to make your wrists fly above your head and pin them to the mattress.

He moves his hand from your mouth as his cups his hands under your ass to bring your cunt to his ravenous mouth. One taste of your combined fluids and he was hooked. His tongue slithers into your gushing hole, seeking out more of his cum because he knows that he’s stuffed you so full of it by now. He shakes his head like a hungry dog, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his bangs stick to it in wet clumps. Lewd slurping sounds come as his lips suckle at your clit, tongue wriggling inside your clenching pussy.

Your back arches even more due to his grip on your ass as he lifts you up, your hips off the bed as your upper back and shoulders still rests on the mattress. You try to pry your wrists from the strength of his evol to no avail as he begins to feast  on you, the lewd slurping and swallowing filling the bedroom. Your mouth parts in a scream as your nerves are driven past the point of overstimulation. “Ca-Caleb! I-” Your words die off in another scream as the white hot coil in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter with every greedy lick and slurping of his tongue.

He suctions his mouth to your hole to suck out every last drop of his cum out your pussy, his nose bumping against your overly engorged clit. His eyes slide close as the musky taste of your juices mixed with his seed continues to flow over his tastebuds, He couldn’t get enough as his cock twitches back to life and pre slowly beads in the slit to dribble down his shaft. “Come on. Let me taste her. Let her squirt down my throat.” His left hand raises slightly and smacks down on the firm globe of flesh that was your ass, the skin jiggles lightly.

You could feel black spot forming in your vision as your chest heaves, your stomach caving in as you cum hard on his relentless tongue. Squirt, hot and runny, filling his mouth and running down his throat as he eagerly swallows it all down. Your body goes limp in his hands as the black spots increase, spreading over your vision completely. “Ca-leb....” You whisper out before exhaustion finally claims you.

Caleb pulls away from your delicious cunt, his lower face wet and shiny. His eyes immediately try to catch yours and panic settles in his chest when he sees you passed out. “Shit.” He curses as he lays you down in a dry spot on the bed. He crawls up to cradle your face in his palms and looks at your peaceful sleeping face and lets out a sigh of relief. “For a Hunter, we need to work on your stamina, little one.” He chuckles as he presses a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for later. I’m nowhere through with you.”

2022-25 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform. I only have tumblr and AO3.

[beomiracles]

the way I read this two weeks ago and have yet to reblog... anyhow, cam already heard me absolutely CRASH OUT reading this on vc. but it's a lot more fun to host a public crash out too.

FIRST OFF ALL.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

second of all.

the UNIQUE concept is to fucking die for. the idea of vampires feeding off of other vampires is something I've never even thought about??! much less them becoming literally fucking soul bound after that.

You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody. 

PACK IT UP PACK IT UP. "If it wasn't him you would have nobody" YES YES YES. like I'm tearing my heart open and giving it to you rn just take me as I am.

Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same.

mother of all things holy.

next, the way they were both yearning for each other. cam was yapping this nonsense about the smut feeling weird, BUT LET ME TELL YOU. the smut in this fic is absolutely DIVINE. it portrays the longing and the yearning in such an immaculate way I'm literally out of breath writing this rn. like just opening the fic back up to find my favourite parts has me in shambles, so you can imagine the out of body experience I had reading this.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back. 

AH YES YESYYEYSYEYSYEYSWYE.

You still remember the sound his human heart made

see. i. I'M UNWELL. the way she remembers him even after DECADES passing. the longing of a vampire is so painfully beautiful I'm going to actually pass out on the floor may one of you guys come pick me up again once I've had a moment to collect myself.

AND WHEN SHE SEES HIM AGAIN --- It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach.

cam I'm going to actually bend you over.

But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,”  The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?”  Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,” 

AND NOW IM STARVING BITCH COME HERE IM GOING TO GIVE YOU MY BODY MIND AND SOUL FOR BREAKFAST DINNER AND LUNCH.

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,” 

im so normal about this paragraph its insane lol.

everyone shut up and read this part:

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,”  But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours.  “then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

I want to declare a moment of silence. for my sanity, for my pride and the person I have become after being bestowed such an honour of a fic. I want to lick every part of cam until there's nothing left of her and I want everyone who I've never came in contact with to have read this fic at least once in their entire life to get at least some use out of it.

this fic is my favourite ever.

bitten

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

warnings: 🔞!!! vampire!beomgyu, vampire!reader, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, angst, mentions of a break up,mentions of bite mark scars, a bit of soulmate trope, oral (f!rec), no protection,mentions of subspace, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.8k (now this flung the 2k limit out the window )

an: thank you for the request! I hope that this captured the essence of the request because vamp!gyu was consuming my thoughts after I read those lines. I love vampire fics and im so sad I don't have more on my page already and this was the perfect time to add one. not proofread im so sorry my sweet angel darlings have mercy on me and forgive me of any mistakes found.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The bar was dark enough to keep the bruised necks and wrists of the occasional lost traveler hidden. Spots of blood dripped onto crisp white shirts scenting the air in coppery sweetness. It was a sickening smell to those who didn't need to feed, the alcohol keeping the rest of the occupants held over enough to ignore the twinge. 

You didn't come to places like this often, the back room filled with half-drunk vampires and humans, desperately grasping at each other as they took from one another. Even the drinks didn't call to you, not when he wasn't standing there behind the bar passing them to you, constantly working his eyes up your body like a desperate plea to have even a taste. He hadn't been turned then, not when you first met. The pull towards you always accounted for the fact you were tainted with blood lust. A moth to a flame, he felt that pull, your hunger enough to send him right into the fire without even glancing at him. 

It wasn't often that a human found themselves offering their bodies up to vampires. Most of them felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, the prickling of fear telling them that whoever was standing just round the corner was a wolf in perfectly tailored sheeps clothing, how tight that human look held onto you after your change. The uncanny glow seeping that poisonous warning off in waves, a trap waiting for the truly reckless to trip. 

The ones who wandered closer instead of away always found themselves in the back of bars like this, bruised and hazy eyed laying in beds done up in silk and candlelight. Beomgyu, although working behind the bar for years knew never to offer himself up to the ones who sunk his stomach, that warning to run ringing in his ears as he slid a drink across the hardwood. But you, the second the door had pushed open and your skin washed in that low down glow, tripped him up; your waiting trap snapping shut around him like a rib cage around fluttering lungs. Even the echo of fading hoof beats on stone sounded so close to the beating of his heart that he couldn't tell the difference between flight and flush. 

But that had been years ago, so many that you couldn't even remember the shade of his irises. You remember they were brown, staring up at ceilings casing empty houses trying and failing to conger up the image. Well over a century's worth of time to hate yourself for forgetting the one thing that drew you in at first glance. But it wasn't as if you didn't try to work your way through the fading memories of him, all flickering by like the passing pages of a notebook you forgot you wrote and held so dearly. All you could see was that empty bed, the sugary taste of his blood still on your tongue, your breast still tender from where he bit you over your heart, so hard the soft outline of his teeth, like a stain you desperately wanted to rid yourself of. 

You had come here, back to this bar only three times after he had left to check in. That night with tears in your eyes, heart crumbling, the second taehyun had confessed that beomgyu was gone, packed up with only a shrugged goodbye. “He said he doesn't know when he will be back,” 

You had waited ten years to return the next time, so little time when you counted decades like snowflakes, not the glass shattering hail you assumed beomgyu would have still thought of as a recently turned fledgling. But no one had seen him, heard from him, hardly even thought of him. But he plagued you, ran around your head until you could taste the blood coming from overworked joints. 

The third time was no better, not when you entered and Taehyun shook his head, apologizing for a friend he wouldn't recognize anymore. 

You had given up, moved away, and swore to never think about beomgyu and his puppy stare. That follow you everywhere look that seeped into your bones and begged you to never turn away from him. Only now you were back, sitting in the far corner you fell in love, sinking into the leather seat wishing you could have that first glance back. 

Taehyun felt pity when he saw you, knew that you had been locked away in some house countries away, only sending in orders for blood long since cold. He poured you a glass, the same drink you asked for with tears in your eyes that first night back alone, chugging so many of them back he's sure your blood tasted of fire, too sour, burning all the way down one's throat. 

“Thank you,” neither of you wanted to bring Beomgyu up but he was the first thing on both of your minds. 

“He hasn't-” 

“I don't care,” you tossed back your drink, the ripples of mixed in blood making your fangs tingle, ready to push through soft gums and piece flesh not yet provided. It's why you came. Tired of the empty flavored pints of blood brought to you by Soobin and his sorry eyes. You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody. 

But that declaration was a century ago, so many cold cups later it was tiring to swallow another. “I want a girl, preferably quiet, business only,” Taehyun nodded to your order, already knowing the best pick. 

“Room 615, she can be brought back in about thirty minutes,” there was no room for judgment, not after the years of working behind this counter, sneaking into those beds just like everyone else had. But he knew what it took from someone who hated to drink from a vein, it's why they had the services, those who couldn't go out and find someone or someones to keep up a constant full belly. 

But human blood wasn't the same as drinking from a vampire, humans went out too quickly, blinking back their faintness, never able to take more than a few deep pulls before they were at capacity. Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same. Taehyun could tell Beomgyu and you drank from each other. Could see it in the years after, the way you turned your nose up even at the bitter drink in your glass. 

You would never feel full again unless you had him back. 

Thirty minutes was enough time to go home and call soobin for a late night order. But your hunger was clawing up your throat, nails on a chalkboard begging for anything else. Having the time to think, sitting here, filled your mouth with the memory of him. Not just the taste of his blood but the faint drum of his turned heartbeat. You still remember the sound his human heart made. The way it pattered at the sight of you, that irregular beat speeding up every time you sat down in front of him, entered through the cherrywood door. 

How even after you had turned him his heart still acted as if it was tied to your presence, fluttering weakly even if it was all it could muster. 

It was that sound that made you turn, conjured up from memory only now to show up right behind you. Taehyun was frozen, face pale at the sight of his lost friend. He had only seen him once or twice after he had been turned but now he was no half human fledgling. 

Beomgyu and you were caught in a web of your own disastrous weaving, stuck in place witnessing the crumbling of love because seeing him only settled the grievances you held into stone.

He wasn't hollow like you were, empty from the time left alone, the bloodlust having fully settled over his skin making him shine in that uncanny beauty. Everything about his gentle human features has been frozen in place, the warmth in his brown eyes only enhanced in the light. How sickening to have to now face the reality of what you had done to him, what he must have run from once he realized he couldn't truly love the monster who infected him. 

It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach. You stumbled as you stood, not even worrying about the key taehyun had left for you next to your drink, not even a meal could keep you from running as far as you could. 

It had been too long for him to come back when you had given up on trying to wait for him. How many nights had been spent waiting for this exact moment? Only now for you to run away. How cruel fate could be. 

He was calling your name, that twinge of hurt mixed in with something close to pity, every syllable weaved through with the words, no, don't do this, don't make me feel sorry. Even his voice made you waver, the back and forth shake of your head confusing you as you walked down the wrong hallway. 

Even through the doors, you could smell the blood from the occupants behind them, like overripe fruit left to sit on the counter, nothing smelled the same after one drop from him. And now with Beomgyu right behind you, weak heartbeat still mimicking that first sight, it was impossible not to pinpoint the smell of him. Wrapping around you like fog; a haze you tried desperately to claw your way out of but you knew it was no use. You had never felt so hungry until then, carved clean through with the need. 

“Please, let me explain,” he tried, grasping at straws. He didn't intend to see you first, only planned on catching up with Taehyun and apologizing for leaving him behind without answers. Save this conversation for when he built up the courage. “Please,” 

His fingertips only brushed your arm, the shock of it going right down to your toes. It was instinct to turn and slap his hand away, and even in your exasperated exhale, that first acknowledgment was enough to make Beomgyu weak again, as if he had ever been anything but when attached to you. “What is there to explain? You left, you left me there, alone in our bed,” 

“I-” The words were stuck in his mouth, hanging right at the edge of his tongue and yet all that came up was a frustrated laugh, “well did you miss me?” even just hearing his own words he could tell you would fume. 

“Did I mi- you left me! You fucking left me, if anything now I just hate you,” 

It was so easy to fall back into it with you, as if you had woken up alone a few days ago not centuries, “look what you did to me. What I've become, don't act as if you're so innocent in this, don't blame me for decisions we both made,” 

The words felt like a slap in the face. That night you had turned him so clear in your mind, the way he had begged, the way he had burned. It was one of the hardest things you had ever done, most vampires went their whole lifetime without infecting anyone because of how hard it was to complete and yet you had. 

“I turned you after you asked me. Do you know how much it takes? And then like some love-sick fool, I drank from you and every day I think about how stupid I was to believe you would stay. After I left behind everything I knew just so that I could have some human boy stay with me. How pathetic,” the last word was thick, sticking to your throat and pulling your tears forward. “You should go back to wherever you ran away to, climb into some feeders bed to keep warm for all I care,” 

You turned, ready to close the door on a life you wished you had. The one you begged for after nights spent alone clinging to the sheets that still smelled of him. But Beomgyu wouldn't have it, his grip tight on your wrist as he pulled you back, “It was never about changing me, I left because I wanted to know if it was real- that intensity was so…consuming, I was scared and so I ran. I ran and I looked for some way to replicate it because I'm a fucking fool who can't see right in front of himself. You made me addicted to you, I begged you to do this to me and yet I ran. Im sorry,” 

“You can say that but you stayed away so long I'm sure you found some poor soul to swallow down by the mouthful,” he could feel your resentment coiling around him, snapping back at his desperate attempt to explain. Because there was no way for him to get the words out, even after running them around his head for the years he had lost all because of his own fear. 

That night was stuck right behind his eyelids, replaying over and over. Your body pressed to his, soundlessly sleeping as he looked up at your shared canopy bed. Your blood was still singing through his body, staining his perception of life before you. He didn't know he could be so utterly infected by someone so much so that it colored his sky differently. Your soft breathing was enough to tear him apart, he wanted countless nights spent exactly like that one, just watching you, listening to you sleep. And it scared him. He thought humans had been over-emotional, feeling things as they came, wallowing in them because they had little time to let it spread out. But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,” 

The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?” 

Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,” 

Even just the word from his mouth made your fangs ache. You had been getting by on so little for so long. He was the only thing your body needed and you knew he must feel the same. Your mouth was filled with saliva, that venom that numbed prey or set them ablaze. You tried to swallow but you could already taste him, the movement of your throat making his eyes zero in on your pulse. You were no better watching his adam’s apple bob, connecting the dots on long since gone trails of hickeys you’d left before. 

Neither of you knew who moved first, moaning against lips you were sure you’d never kiss again. His sweet venom singing on your tongue. His hands were heavy on your body, pulling you closer as he pushed you against the hallway wall. He wanted to melt into you, his desperation crawling up his skin, hips keeping you in place. 

You chuckled into his mouth, the sound rattling in the back of his throat like a prayer he wanted to keep to himself. “You always did get hard from kissing,” his whimper in response is followed by the grind of his bulge against you. How fast his body reacted to your touch didn’t change when he did. 

His heart was picking up speed, your fingers running through his hair, the groves of your fingertips slotting back into place amongst the strands. Beomgyu’s fangs were already elongating, nipping your bottom lip. He had always felt so good about his self-control, accounting those early days of overfeeding on you for the simple fact of being so recently changed, he should have known you were the variable that cracked the hold he had on himself. It was only worse now that he'd nicked you enough to mix blood into the kiss, his throaty moan rumbling against your body, sinking into your soul. 

You're both stumbling to find a room, twisting knobs until you find an empty one. The silk bed envelops the both of you as you fall into it, peeling off layers of clothes. Beomgyu can smell your sweet arousal between your legs the second he's pushed them apart to kneel between. 

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,” 

“You're impossible to forget,” and when you expected him to bite you, following the pattern of his usual ravishing but he skipped it, shocking you with his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking deeply. 

His mouth is on a direct line to your spine, your back arching off the bed. His tongue is hot on you, tracing the lines of your folds, and moaning into your slick. He missed these desperate whines you let slip, the perfect backtrack to the messy slurping sounds he's started. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed his mouth, your fingers twisting into his hair the second he brushed a fang against your swollen bud. He loved to tease but it had been too long since you felt your orgasm rise so fast. 

Beomgyu was eating you like he missed your pussy, your stomach tightening, hips sinking into the sheets. It only takes a few more precise sucks with his puffy lips before your toes are curling, eyes rolling back as you cum for him. His chuckle vibrates against you before he pulls away, chin shining with your wetness. “I missed the taste of you,” 

He hasn't even tried to find someone else to take care of his needs, not when he knew no other cunt could compare to the way yours perfectly molded to him, sucking him in to the hilt. The memory alone is what had him rushing to get inside of you, cock already leaking rivets of precum. 

You've never felt so needy in your life, fangs and pussy aching for him. The drag of his tip from your clit to your weeping entrance makes your knees fall open. One of his hands guides himself to push into you and the other tenderly holds your hip in place. Your mouth drops open at the stretch, slow as he lets you take in the feeling, needing you to remember how full he kept you. 

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,” 

But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours. 

“then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

As many times as he's crossed your mind, thinking about his fangs in your neck was something that would never compare to the moment they finally sunk in. You had never let anyone feed from you, not until he was there in front of you pleading. You were no better, not after you had changed him, needing to drain him of almost everything. But with one nod he was biting you. 

Beomgyu’s mouth was flooded with your blood, the familiar flavor of iron mixed with the undercurrent of sweet delicacy. He’d dream about the first bite, mouth tingling, fangs brought forward on nothing but the memory of you. Now he was ravenous, so shocked by his own hunger with its pounding fists on nailed shut doors. His hips stuttered in his thrusting, caught on the ecstasy of quenched starvation. 

You felt your mind slip into that hazy space, anything he asked would be answered, every action would be taken, and all you knew was him and him alone. To have that numbing venom injected into your bloodstream was enough to break even the strongest down into puddles of simmering whimpers. 

It was hard to pull away and keep himself from overfeeding like he wished he could. But he felt his orgasm cresting, stomach flexing as his balls tightened. Beomgyu shoved his wrist to your waiting lips, your fangs stinging as they pierced his weak flesh. You drank deeply, thick swallows of the ichor you had prayed to get back on your tongue.

Everything was crashing down around you, beomgyu groaning as you clenched around him, fluttering walls sucking him in as you came, taking everything he had to give. He was a mess of moans, clinging to you as if that could keep him grounded when he felt this good. Every slow shallow thrust only pushes his cum further into you, still being pulled from him with every pulse of your greedy pussy. 

Neither of you can believe how lost you had become, falling into each other like stars crashing into nothing but pooling darkness, so full of energy the only option was to collapse. And it's just what you did, twisting into each other's hold, beomgyu’s kisses pressed over the puncture marks he's made on you, nose brushing up and down your skin trying to keep your scent close. 

Breathing evening you fought back the worry settling in. He had left before, walked right out the door without you knowing anything wrong had been on his mind, what was keeping him from doing it all over again? 

“Stop thinking,” he muttered, mouth finding yours, mixing the flavors of your blood together as he kissed you. “I don't think I could find it in myself to ever leave again,” but he was pulling away, his playful smirk lingering on his lip cleansing your worrying mind if even for a movement. “How could I ever leave again after seeing how happy and full you are after only one round?” he pulled his still hard cock from you, the gush of cum slipping out, pooling on his ready fingers only to shove them right back into your waiting cunt. “No, nothing could keep me from this sight ever again,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @no1likemybbgcharlie @beomiracles want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[hyperfocusthusly]

Sweet things

@bucktommyfluffebruary - day two prompt ‘cooking together’

Notes: established relationship, domestic fluff, Tommy is too busy staring at his boyfriend to be an effective sous chef | Rating: G | Words: 700

[Read on A03]

——-

“Sorry I’m late!” Tommy calls through the house, “there was an accident, traffic was a nightmare.”

“That’s okay,” a familiar voice calls back. “I had to start without you.” Tommy comes into the kitchen to find Evan whisking a bowl of egg whites. “Need to keep on schedule so it has to bake and cool before we put it together.”

Tommy half remembers the 20 minute run down of why you have to let a meringue cool slowly, something to do with sudden temperature change causing cracks? In his defence he had been half asleep at the time, laid out on the sofa with Evan’s fingers carding through his hair.

Ever since Athena had assigned them the dessert portion of the menu for their barbecue this evening Evan had been spending every spare minute searching for the perfect thing to make. Several internet deep dives, three new recipe books and countless conversations later he had come to the conclusion that a pavlova would be perfect for the job.

“It’s the best of all things.” He had explained one evening, plastered against Tommy’s back while he did the washing up. “It’s crunchy and chewy, sweet but if you choose the right flavour crème, I was thinking passion fruit, then it’s not too sweet. Plus it’s light enough for after a big meal, perfect for a summer barbecue.”

Tommy comes around the kitchen island, rests his hand on Evan’s hip and presses a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“Hope you didn’t do all of my jobs for me. I want to look Hen in the eye and tell her I helped make this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s high on her list of things she doesn’t believe are possible.”

Evan laughs,

“I need you to separate some more eggs, 3 yolks should do and then they need to go on a double boiler-” he shifts out of Tommy grasp, pulling the scales out of a nearby cupboard and measuring sugar into a bowl.

“I thought we were making meringue.”

“We’re making a pavlova, three key components; meringue, crème and fruit.”

“Oh yes of course, how could I forget the three key components.”

Evan pulls a face of mock shock at Tommy’s sarcastic tone.

“How indeed” he reaches up and taps the recipe card taped to the cupboard. “All the instructions are there if you need them.”

Tommy separates the eggs carefully, and puts them in a double boiler on the stove. He is stirring them gently when he feels Evan’s gaze boring into the side of him.

“Can I help you with something?”

Evan waggles his hand in the direction of the drawer Tommy is stood in front of.

“Can you pass me a spoon?”

“Sure.”

He digs one out and gives it to Evan, their fingers brushing over the handle. His gaze lingers on Evan for a moment too long.

“You know you have to stir those constantly right?”

“Mmm?” Truth be told, Tommy is a little less focused on the steaming bowl and more on his gorgeous boyfriend. He feels a bit lost with the way the afternoon sun is catching the lighter tones in Evan’s hair, lifting the golden tones of his skin.

Evan reaches over with the hand not currently occupied whisking egg whites and closes it over Tommy’s wrist, forcing him to stir the mixture.

“If you don’t they will scramble.”

“We can’t have that.” Tommy murmurs softly, still entranced by the way the light makes Evan’s eyes shine, picking up the different shades of blue in his eyes and making them sparkle.

Evan catches Tommy’s eyes and stops for a moment, his trademark frantic cooking energy slowing down as he looks at Tommy. He knows realistically that 24 hours is not a hugely long time to go without seeing someone but the way he feels immediately lighter under Tommy’s gaze makes him realise how much he misses him when he’s at work.

“Sorry,” he mumbles “I didn’t even say hello.”

“That’s okay baby, I know how important the structural integrity of meringues is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.”

Tommy smiles and Evan thinks he may never get tired of seeing it.

Tagging some beloveds (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed);

@leashybebes @livelaughlou @loucifersbitch @dark-alice-lilith @mmso-notlikethat @laundryandtaxesworld @bucksaiga @littlepaws9 @sad-girl-hours23 @evansbuck-ley @jamieroyjamieroy @typicalopposite

@moonydanny @teenmaximoff @bucksboobs @ohithankyou @bi-bi-buckleys @rubydaiquiri @hellion-child @aringofsalt @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @comfortingevanbuckley @epiphainie @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard

@sunnywithachanceofbi @desert--moonchild @blitzynatural @actuallyitsellie @big-urchin-energy @fyrehose @buckleyskinards @owlgirl495 @honeyloulou @setmeatopthepyre @salty-autistic-writer @thecarrott

[gremlin-girly]

Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest, made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk! Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

"I like your necklace."

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

Forget-me-nots. Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it. "You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.” Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission? He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

“What did you just say?”

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons. “James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

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@irishhappiness | @awkwardgiraffe726

[daddyissuesbecauseofhotch]

Daddy issues || #3

{masterlist}

There’s a knock on your door late in the morning, just as you are sipping the second mug of coffee of the day. A sigh escapes your lips as you close your laptop, not feeling like talking to anyone right now, but knowing full well it would be rude to pretend you’re not at home, especially since the music you’ve been listening to can probably be heard from outside.

You have a deadline tomorrow, and the goddamn wireframe is not done yet, there’s something that’s missing, you know that. Some results you needed for this only arrived late last night, and your boss didn’t give you much time to work on it. Your teammate promised to take a look at it tomorrow morning, so it had to be done and sent today.

But when you open the door, there’s no one in the hallway, not a single soul. And then you look down momentarily to find an envelope on the doormat with your name written on it. Strange, who would leave a handwritten note these days? In the end, you just shrug and pick it up before heading back inside.

“Dinner at six at our place, don’t be late. Jack wants to get to know you, and maybe we could watch a movie together. He also wants you to know there will be enough popcorn for all of us,” it says, and it’s signed by Aaron. But then your eyes move lower to find a postscript. “Okay, that’s all Jack could see, here’s the thing. I also want to get to know you, preferably after I put Jack to bed. There are topics I’d rather not discuss in front of him. And wear my hoodie, I’m begging you. Anyway, save my number just in case.”

Heat rises to your cheek when you finish the letter, and you automatically reach for your phone to save the number he included at the end. It’s ridiculous, really, but you can’t stop yourself. This man has you in a chokehold, even if you’ve only exchanged like a total of five sentences so far. Maybe you would say no under different circumstances, but this time it’s a cute little boy who insists on having you over, who are you to decline?

You return to the wireframe, but five minutes later your gaze shifts to the phone next to your laptop. You should send a text to him and his son to thank them for the invitation. Just one text, that’s all. It would be nothing more but a friendly gesture, a simple text from a neighbor. With a sigh, you pick up the device and lean back in the swivel chair.

You: Thank you for the invitation.

You: I’m your neighbor, by the way.

Aaron: I’m glad you got the letter. Does this mean you’ll come over?

You: Jack mentioned popcorn, how could I say no that?

Aaron: And what about me?

You: Haven’t decided yet.

Aaron: You’re such a tease.

Aaron: Will you wear my hoodie as I asked?

You: I’m thinking about wearing that with no pants under it, it’s almost as long as some of my dresses.

Aaron: Sweetheart, there will be an underage kid in the apartment.

Sweetheart? God, he doesn’t waste his time. Your stomach does a flip upon reading the pet name, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile like an idiot. He’s an outrageous flirt. You’re fucked. That’s it.

You: Fine, I’ll wear yoga pants.

Aaron: Perfect.

Aaron: But I won’t complain if you take it off after Jack goes to bed.

You: Oh, you want to see me naked?

Aaron: I was only talking about the yoga pants, but if you insist, who am I to say no?

You: You’re unbelievable.

You: Alright, stop disturbing me, I have a deadline at work. See you tonight.

Aaron: Can’t wait.

[perciverthoughts]

Collarbones- Perciver

Oliver has a problem. 

It’s not necessarily a big problem, like that time he’d agreed to help nana with her christmas cooking and nearly burned down the kitchen, or that time da had introduced him to his new girlfriend and he’d puked on her shoes. But it’s still a problem. 

The thing is, Oliver is a simple man. He likes straightforward classes, like potions and defense, and he likes quidditch because it’s a simple game that requires complex thinking. Most of all, he likes Percy Weasley- but Percy Weasley is not a simple man, and Oliver spends an inordinate amount of time trying to figure him out. 

It’s a long term project, but Oliver is not opposed to hard work, and Percy is worth it, always has been. That’s not the problem, not at all. 

The problem is that somewhere along the line being friends with Percy turned into falling hopelessly, madly in love with Percy, and now Oliver can’t even study in the library with him without daydreaming about biting his collarbones.

Fuck. The collarbones are just there, okay? They’re exposed by the scoop neck of his Weasley sweater the way they never are when he wears his robes and his school shirt, and it turns out Oliver’s weakness- besides just Percy in general- is apparently an extra inch of creamy white skin sprinkled with freckles, and the small hollow where Percy’s shoulder meets his neck.

He wants to lick it. He wants to bite it. He wants to snog Percy Weasley absolutely senseless and figure out what will make him gasp and squirm and agree to be his boyfriend. 

Unfortunately, Percy has never once given even the slightest inclination that he might be on board with such ideas, and so Oliver is not about to say any of that out loud, ever, not even if Penelope Clearwater makes good on her threat to lock them in a broom cupboard so they’ll ‘finally stop dancing around each other and admit they’re arse-over-tits for each other’(her words, not his). Penelope is kind of weird, but Oliver likes her anyway. For one, she’s Percy’s best friend, and for another the fact she thinks it’s even possible Percy might like him back is extremely flattering, even if it couldn’t possibly be true.

“-ie? Ollie?” 

He blinks and Percy is looking at him, brow wrinkled in concern, his blue eyes as sharply intelligent as ever, even though the bags under his eyes seem etched into his skin. Percy’s insomnia has been one of Oliver’s main worries since first years, and now that Percy’s got the prefect position it’s only gotten worse.

“You okay?” Percy’s voice is deeper than one would expect, and slightly gravelly because of all the cigarettes he smokes. Sometimes, he’ll read out loud before they put the lights out in the dorm, and it’s Oliver’s favourite sound in the world, “You seem distracted. Well- more distracted than usual.”

He grins, propping an elbow on the desk beside his arithmancy books, and the movement makes the divot of his collarbone even more pronounced. Oliver curses whatever deity or creature Penelope must have convinced to torment him, and tries not to whimper.

“Me? Distracted? Never.”

He tries to meet teasing with teasing but it sounds too breathless to be truly convincing. Luckily, Percy doesn’t press, just shrugs elegantly and turns back to his books.

“Alright.”

Oliver goes back to staring at him over his copy of Numerology and Grammatica Level Five. 

Deep red curls glow under the warm light from the lanterns, framing high cheekbones and brushing over Percy’s perfectly round ears. A delicate nose balances out a strong jaw, and plush, slightly chapped pink lips part to show a flash of pink tongue caught between Percy’s teeth. 

Oliver wishes said tongue was caught between his teeth. 

Fuck.

He should go back to reading. The assignment is due in three days, and reading takes him longer than it should, all things considered. Instead, he goes back to looking at Percy’s collarbones rather than his face. It seems safer. Marginally. 

The collarbones are still exquisite. Oliver still very much wants to bite them. It’s still a problem.

“Do I have something on my shirt?”

“W-what?” Oliver jumps, caught, and tries very hard not to look guilty, “No. Why?”

“You’re staring at it rather intently,” Percy tugs at his collar, pulling his sweater out to examine it, showing off even more skin and causing Oliver’s brain to melt, which is why he says what he says next.

“I’m not staring at your sweater, I'm staring at your collarbones.”

In the time it takes him to realize what he said and slap a horrified hand over his mouth so he can’t say anything even more life ruining, Percy turns about twelve different shades of red, his mouth dropping open.

“You-I-my-what?”

“Nothing!” Oliver jumps up, fully intending to go throw himself into the lake and let the giant squid eat him, “I’m staring at nothing! Sorry I-”

“Oliver Benjamin Wood,” Percy says, and it’s his prefect voice, the one that makes Oliver shiver in a multitude of ways, but that also leaves no room for argument, ever, “sit down and tell me why you’re looking at my collarbones.”

Oliver drops back into his seat, shaking his head mutinously. 

Percy takes a step towards him, face still glowing like the sunrise. Oliver cringes and contemplates attempting apparition even though he’s never tried before and it also doesn’t work in Hogwarts.

Then, Percy does something absolutely, entirely, completely evil. He takes another step closer and leans it, breath ghosting over Oliver’s face, and whispers, “please?”

Oliver caves.

“BecauseIwanttobitethem.” 

Oliver didn’t think it was possible for Percy to go any redder, but somehow he manages it. Distantly, he wonders if he should be worried about Percy’s health.

“You…want to bite my collarbones?”

Oliver can only nod helplessly, still reeling from the feeling of Percy’s breath on his cheek, and those blue, blue eyes boring into his soul.

“Right,” Percy exhales a deep breath, and nods, his face rapidly retuning to normal except for a slight pink tinge over his cheekbones, “okay. Let’s go.”

He holds out a hand. Oliver stares.

“What?”

“Let’s go.” Percy huffs, but he’s grinning, eyes twinkling mysteriously in a way that has haunted Oliver’s fantasies for years.

“Go where?”

Is Percy going to murder him in the forbidden forest? Turn him into McGonagall for being a creeper? Sick Penelope on him?

“Back to the dorm," Percy says, like it's obvious, "so you can bite my collarbones and I can lick that freckle on your neck.”

“What?” It’s Oliver’s turn to choke. He can picture the scene, the two of them intertwined on his bed, Percy’s curls tickling his nose as his mouth drags over- nope. Can’t think of that in public, can’t think of that in public. “You- you want to lick my neck?”

“Have for ages.” Percy sighs and that- that does it.

Oliver jumps from his seat and seizes Percy’s hand, tugging them towards the door. 

“Yep, alright, let's go, let’s go right now.”

Percy laughs and trips after him, casting a summoning charm over his shoulder so their books pack themselves up and follow them back to Gryffindor tower. Not that it really matters. They aren’t going to do much studying for the rest of the day, at least not if Oliver has anything to say about it. He’s got far more important things to do.

[thebarneschronicles]

Closer To Home IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Synopsis: The storm changed everything. A week spent trapped together, moving around each other like it was second nature. Mornings spent wrapped in his warmth, nights spent unraveling under his hands. And now, the words you’ve been swallowing for months are fighting to break free and you don’t know how much longer you can keep them in.

You love him. And he knows it. But love has never been easy for Bucky. And if you say it—if you let yourself finally speak the truth—will it pull him closer, or will it send him running?

Trigger Warnings: Emotional breakdowns; Angst, banter, and all the feels. Surprisingly no smut this time around... but their chance will come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Author’s Note: The words are out... now we can focus on their other shenanigans. Loving to see your thoughts about this story and my ask box is always open if you wanna know more. P.S.: There'll probably be more updates this week, but I'm not setting it in stone. B xx

--

“Just kiss me. Keep my mouth shut, will you? Do it until I forget my name.”

The kissing had worked. The slow, lingering press of his lips, the desperate way his hands had explored your skin like he was learning you by touch alone—every moment had distracted you from the pressing truth of your feelings. And when he finally took you, when he split you open at your very core only to put you back together again with every roll of his hips, every whispered praise against your lips, it had done its job.

You hadn’t said it.

Those three little words that kept haunting you, lingering on the tip of your tongue every waking moment since Bucky Barnes had stepped into your life.

I love you.

They could cement everything you had built together or crumble it into dust. And yet, they pressed behind your teeth, growing heavier each day, aching to be voiced, desperate to reach his ears.

You loved him.

God knew when it had happened. Was it when you first read his files, when he was still just a name and a tragic history? Or when he first looked at you—really looked at you—after you were assigned to work alongside him and Sam? Maybe it was the day he effortlessly picked up the stack of reports you had been struggling to carry, flashing you that small hesitant smile he wouldn’t normally share with anyone.

Or was it that first night he offered to walk you home?

No. Who were you kidding? It had happened long before then.

It had crept in through stolen glances over mission briefings, through late-night talks over cups of coffee you always made for him without asking, in the hopes of stealing just a moment of his time. It had settled in the quiet, in the routine of his grumbled, "Morning, doll," when he found you in the communal kitchen, in the way his tired eyes softened when you gave him that worried look as he walked in, battered and bruised from a fight.

And now, it was torture.

Because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The snowstorm had come and gone, the city slowly crawling back to life after nearly a week buried in ice. You and Bucky had spent those days together, and you had been blindsided by just how easy it had been—how natural it was to cohabitate. As if this was something you did all the time, as if domesticity had always been woven into the fabric of your relationship.

In the midst of unspoken feelings and a push and pull you actively ignored, you learned things. That he liked to watch you cook, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, incapable of hiding he was mesmerized. That he didn’t mind washing the dishes afterward, sleeves rolled up as he worked in comfortable silence, so long as you kept him company. That he’d rub your ankles while you lounged on the couch after hours spent bustling around the house, his strong hands kneading into your skin with practiced ease, relishing in the way your breath hitched when he squeezed just right.

He was the perfect boyfriend.

Except he wasn’t your boyfriend.

Because you couldn’t call him that. Could you?

You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, your head dropping onto your desk. Hours had passed, and you still couldn’t concentrate on anything. Your mind was consumed by the what-ifs, spiraling around the impossible tangle of your relationship with a 1940s super soldier who carried more trauma than you could count on both hands.

Fantastic. Just great.

The faint scuff of boots outside your door jolted you back to reality. You lifted your head just as Sam Wilson leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an all-too-knowing smirk tugging at his lips. He held a file in one hand, but the amusement in his eyes told you he had other priorities.

"Well, did I just catch you napping on the job?"

You snorted, leaning back in your chair. "I wish. And good morning to you too, Sam. How can I help you?"

"Mission stuff," he said, tossing the file onto your desk. "Figured I’d go over it with you before Barnes shows up to derail our day with his useless questions. Also, wanted to check in—how was your week harboring a former assassin cyborg in your apartment?"

You pressed your lips together as memories of those days surged through your mind—his touch, his warmth, the way his eyes held you like you were something he never wanted to lose, the hunger in them when you straddled him. You hesitated, caught up in the memories, which was enough to set Sam off.

"Did you talk about it yet?" he pressed.

"About what, exactly?" you asked, feigning innocence.

"Oh, I don’t know—your big ol’ feelings? The fact that you two have been dancing around the subject for months? Did you ask him to be your boyfriend yet?"

With the playful lilt in his voice and the mischief dancing in his eyes, it was hard to believe this man was a war veteran—let alone Captain America.

You rolled your eyes, tapping your nails against the desk. "Don’t you have aliens to fight, Cap? Kittens to rescue? Children to kiss?"

"I’m Captain America, not a politician," Sam shot back, dragging out a chair and dropping into it with a pointed look. "So, that’s a no?"

You exhaled sharply, rubbing at your temples and urging the flush on your cheeks to go away. "We didn’t really… talk much. Not really."

Sam let out a long whistle, shaking his head. "Damn. Didn’t think Barnes had it in him."

"Sam—" you groaned.

"Oh, come on. You spent a whole week holed up with Terminator, what do you expect me to do? Just sit back and not pry?"

"You are way too invested in my love life for someone who has yet to offer a single useful piece of advice."

Sam grinned, leaning forward. "Alright, spill. What happened during the storm?"

You hesitated, glancing down the hallway to make sure Bucky was nowhere in sight. When the coast was clear, you exhaled, shoulders sagging. "We stayed at mine for most of it, but one night, we went to his place, and… I kind of lost it."

Sam’s smirk faded. "Lost it how?"

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting together. "I broke down, Sam. Full-on sobbing, ugly crying—everything. He wanted to know why, and I just—" Your voice caught, and you forced yourself to push through it. "I told him. That I know about Hydra. The torture. And... I saw the way he lives, like he’s punishing himself. Like he doesn’t think he deserves anything good. It wrecked me."

Sam’s expression tightened, but his voice stayed level. "And how did he handle it?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "I didn’t give him the chance. I was about to say ‘I love you,’ and I panicked. So instead…" You sighed, dropping your gaze. "We slept together. More than once. And now everything’s a mess because I’m—" The words caught in your throat, heavy and terrifying. "Because I’m in love with him. And he knows. But I haven’t said it to him yet."

Sam blinked, then let out a low whistle. "Damn. Maybe I should start brooding—chicks love it."

You shot him a glare, but your heart wasn’t in it. He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. So you’re in love with him. What’s the problem?"

"Everything," you whispered, the weight of it pressing against your ribs. "I love him, Sam. And I haven’t told him because… I don’t even know if I should."

Sam’s teasing faded, his voice softer now. "Why not?"

You swallowed hard, staring out the window as if the answer was somewhere out there. "Because I don’t know if he’ll stay. He’s lost so much already. People, time, parts of himself. What if I tell him, and it’s too much? What if it pushes him away? Or worse—what if he doesn’t feel the same?"

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. "You really are in your own head about this."

"That’s helpful," you shot back, voice thick with sarcasm.

He leaned forward, forearms braced against the desk, voice steady and certain, that way he usually got when he was about to drop some wisdom. "Look. This is Bucky we’re talking about. Yeah, he’s been through hell. More than anyone should have to survive. But you know what else? He’s still here. He’s choosing to be here, with you. And if you love him, and he already knows—because trust me, he knows—then saying the words isn’t going to send him running."

Your chest ached, emotions clawing their way up your throat. "How do you know that? Because this… this is eating me alive, Sam. I just want him to stay. I want to love him. And I’m terrified he won’t let me. There have been so many times I almost said it, but I had to choke it back because…" Your voice cracked, a tear slipping free before you could stop it. "Because I know this will either be everything or it’ll be the thing that breaks us. And I don’t know if I can face it if it’s the latter."

Sam’s expression shifted, his voice unwavering yet gentle. "Maybe you should let him decide that."

“And what if he decides it’s not worth it?” The words barely made it past the lump in your throat. You dropped your gaze, unwilling to let Sam see the way your lips trembled, the way your hands clenched into fists against your lap.

“He’s had enough people deciding everything for him to last a lifetime,” Sam said, his tone edged with something firm. “Don’t be another one on that list just because you think you know what he'll do. Maybe, if you actually ask him about his feelings, he’ll surprise you.”

“You sound awfully sure of something you know nothing about,” you muttered, but the usual fire in your retorts was absent. It was just exhaustion now, doubt curling into your bones.

“Who said I know nothing?”

That got your attention. Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Sam... What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he replied too quickly, the picture of innocence as he shrugged, but the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Samuel, I will call your sister.”

Sam’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, but you caught it. He clicked his tongue, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, about that—maybe don’t. You know Buck had a thing for her back when we were in Louisiana, right?”

Your jaw fell open. “He what?”

Before Sam could respond, heavy footfalls echoed down the hallway. You barely had a moment to process the revelation before Bucky strode into your office, his expression mildly suspicious, his vibranium arm clutching a pastel pink bag. The contrast of the bag’s soft color against his all-black ensemble was so stark it nearly gave you whiplash.

“There you are,” Sam boomed, standing with a grin as he clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “What’s in the bag, Barnes? Something sweet for your sweetheart?”

Bucky shot him an unimpressed look before his eyes landed on you, and his features softened instantly. “Breakfast. For her, not for you,” he clarified, lifting the bag slightly. Then his brows drew together, scanning your face with quiet concern. “Why are you crying? What did he do?”

“I’m not crying,” you rushed to say, though the evidence of your damp cheeks begged to differ. “It’s allergies,” You quickly wiped them with the back of your hands, forcing a smile. “What did you get?”

“I got you a bagel from that place you like,” Bucky said, stepping closer, his voice laced with something almost hesitant. "They didn’t have coffee, so I got you, uh… a strawberry matcha? The girl at the counter said you'd like it." He shifted slightly, as if bracing for your reaction.

You froze for a second, staring at him. The idea of Bucky—gruff, no-nonsense Bucky—standing at a café counter and listening to drink recommendations was almost too much. But then the weight of it settled in your chest: he’d gone out of his way. Remembered your favorite bagel. Chosen something new just because he wanted to bring you something—God, you were in too deep.

“That’s really sweet, Buck.” You pushed yourself up from your chair, unable to stop yourself from leaning in, rising on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your lips, his stubble rough against your fingers. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“I wanted to,” he murmured, echoing something you had said to him so many times before it almost felt like second nature now. For a moment, Bucky just stared at you, his blue eyes tracing your face like he was trying to decide on something. Then, before you could fully process what was happening, he shifted slightly, tilting his head, and brushed a kiss against your lips.

It was soft—so soft it almost didn’t feel real. But it was enough to send your mind reeling, your breath hitching in your throat as a jolt of electricity raced through you. When he pulled back, his expression was unreadable, and you were too stunned to speak. Your fingers gripped the paper bag, anchoring yourself to something, anything, to help you process what had just happened.

And then Sam’s voice shattered the moment.

“Ah, look at the two of you. My favorite couple,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

Your entire body stiffened. “Sam,” you hissed, heat flooding your cheeks.

“What?” Sam shrugged innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. Right, Buck?”

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, but his jaw tightened slightly, a tell tale sign of his annoyance that only you seemed to notice.

“Sam, we haven’t even—” You started, grasping at some semblance of control over the rapidly unraveling situation, but Sam cut you off with an exaggerated groan.

"For the love of God, Barnes, put her out of her misery already," Sam groaned, nudging him with an elbow. "Tell her she’s your girlfriend. Tell her she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Do us all a favor."

You wanted to die. Right there. Spontaneously combust and vanish from existence.

“Anyway, that’s my cue to leave,” Sam said, grabbing the file he’d initially dropped on your desk.

“But we haven’t even discussed—” You started, grasping at the one thing that could spare you from the awkwardness sinking into your chest.

“We can discuss it later. Right now, I’ll leave you lovebirds alone to talk.” Sam said with an infuriatingly knowing look before turning toward the door. He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a wicked grin. “Oh, and by the way… I told her about Sarah.”

Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, exhaling in a long, put-upon sigh. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, annoyance now evident. “Sam…”

“Consider it payback for flirting with my sister. And what’s a little jealousy? It adds spice to the relationship,” Sam teased, stepping just out of Bucky’s immediate reach.

Bucky turned fully toward him, which only made Sam laugh, hands up in mock surrender. “She threatened to call her, man! I had no choice.”

Bucky turned back to you, groaning softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear, he lives to torment me,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in your chest. “So… Sarah?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

His head shot up, his blue eyes widening, genuine worry flickering across his face. “Nothing happened,” he said quickly. “With Sarah, I mean. There’s—there’s nothing to tell.”

You bit back a grin, warmth curling in your chest at his obvious distress. Reaching out, you took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Relax, Buck. I’m not upset. Honestly, I’m just shocked you had any interest in anyone besides that waitress before I threw myself on you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as your words landed. “You didn’t force me into anything,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. His thumb brushed slow circles over the back of your hand, grounding you in the moment.

“Good,” you teased, pulling the pink drink bag closer to you with a smirk. “Now let’s try this strawberry matcha you so lovingly procured for me.”

You did it. You got over the awkwardness by skillfully dodging the subject. You nearly sighed in relief—right up until Bucky let out a noise, half scoff, half laugh, before his amusement faded into something else as he stepped closer.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he mumbled, moving behind you with a calculated slowness, his presence looming but never overbearing. His arm slid around your middle, pulling you back against him, and your breath hitched as his chest pressed against your back. “And it won’t work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice unsteady .

Bucky held you in place, his lips brushing your ear as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Why were you crying?” he murmured, low and insistent, his lips trailing down to press the faintest kiss to the curve of your neck.

Your knees felt like they might give out, your eyes fluttering shut involuntarily. You sent a silent thank-you to the universe for the secluded corner your office was tucked into, sparing you the humiliation of anyone catching you like this—being thoroughly undone by your super soldier.

“Sam told me I suck at my job,” you lied, barely managing to string the words together.

Bucky chuckled, the vibration of it reverberating against your back. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said, finally twisting you around to face him. His arms circled your waist, holding you securely, leaving no room for escape—not that you wanted to.

“And your interrogation tactics are crap,” you shot back, trying to mask your flustered state with sarcasm. Your hands instinctively slid up to rest on his shoulders, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“We’ll see about that,” he warned, his voice teasing but his gaze unwavering as it flicked over your face.

You took a moment to really look at him, letting your eyes trace over every detail—the softness in his gaze, the faint smirk tugging at his lips, the roughness of his stubbled jaw that you knew would scrape deliciously against your skin. Your heart raced as you took him in, suddenly overwhelmed by how effortlessly gorgeous he was. “God, you’re handsome,” you blurted, your voice quiet but sure. “It’s unfair.”

His smirk deepened, though his expression remained serious. “Compliments will get you nowhere,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I will make you tell me.”

You considered his words, tilting your head as you let your nails trail lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe,” you said, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Maybe we can do it over dinner?”

Bucky’s brows raised slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his face before he recovered, the smirk returning in full force. “Are you asking me out, or is this another attempt to dodge the question?”

“Maybe both,” you quipped, tugging him just a little closer, your noses nearly brushing.

His gaze softened, his arms tightening around you. “Dinner, huh?”

“Dinner,” you confirmed, your heart thundering as the word hung between you.

The look in his eyes told you he was already on board, but his voice stayed teasing as he finally replied. “Fine. Your place. I’ll bring the food. But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his, but your insides twisted with the promise of the conversation that awaited you. 

–

Instead of leaving work together, Bucky had, surprisingly, let you fend for yourself. You walked the few blocks back to your apartment with a jittery sensation that only grew more restless as you thought about how the night would unfold.

There was no avoiding it. Tonight, you'd have to talk about it, define your relationship once and for all, and you had no idea how it would play out. Or if you were prepared for it.

By the time you reached your door, you were wound so tight with nerves you were unable to sit still. You headed straight for the kitchen, hoping to lose yourself in the steady rhythm of baking. Soon, the rich scent of cinnamon and apples filled the small space, wrapping around you like a hug. The pie had barely cooled and you had just gotten finished spritzing your perfume when Bucky’s knock came at the door. You smoothed your hair one last time, and opened it with a breathless smile.

There he was. Casual, but devastating in his dark Henley and leather jacket, black jeans hugging his frame in all the right places. He had a bottle of whiskey tucked under one arm and a stack of takeout bags in the other—Thai food, from the place you’d offhandedly mentioned wanting to try. How did he remember it? You had no idea.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice soft, warm, and entirely too casual for the buzz of energy humming between you. His blue eyes swept over your frame, lingering just a second too long. You had thrown on a simple outfit after your shower—soft jeans and an oversized sweater that slid teasingly off one shoulder—but the way he looked at you made you feel like you were naked and exposed.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your cheeks heating as you lifted onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He tilted his head slightly, deepening it for just a moment, accepting the way your hands cupped his cheeks to keep him steady, before pulling back with a sigh.

He couldn’t resist giving you another once over, before he got distract. “What’s that smell?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.

“Apple pie,” you said, closing the door behind him. “I figured I’d take care of dessert since you were handling dinner.”

His brows lifted. “Apple pie? That’s awfully domestic…”

You shrugged, feeling the blood heating up your cheeks. “Thought it might remind you of home—or, you know, simpler times.”

Bucky hummed, setting the food and whiskey down before reaching out and tugging on the hem of your sweater. “Looks good on you.”

“Domesticity or the sweater?” You joked, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you watched him. It never failed to catch you off guard—how effortlessly he settled into your space. Dropping the bags on the counter, peeling off his gloves and jacket, rolling up his sleeves. He moved like a man who belonged, who knew he was home, as much as he refused to call it home. The sight of it stole your breath.

His lips quirked. “Both.”

Dinner was easy, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. He teased you about the mountain of spring rolls you’d pulled onto your plate (“Is that all for you, or am I allowed to have one?”), and you ribbed him right back for always stealing bites off your plate instead of sticking to his own. The laughter came easily, and for a while, the tension simmering under the surface felt like a distant echo.

That was, until Bucky leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting from playful to intent.

“So,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Ready for the Spanish Inquisition?”

You groaned, your head dropping into your hands. “Oh, come on. Can’t you let me off the hook?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his voice laced with humor but his eyes sharp. “I already let you off. Twice.”

The covert mention of the night you broke down didn’t go unnoticed. Lifting your head, you rested your chin in your hand, meeting his steady blue gaze with a pout. The stare-off felt like a challenge—like you were daring him to back off while he silently willed you to break. The only question was who would give in first. And you had no doubt—it would be you.

You’d do anything Bucky Barnes asked you to. Sighing, you pushed back from the table and stood. “Fine. If you’re going to interrogate me, we’re at least going to make it fun.”

"Fun?" His tone was doubtful, but the slight twitch of his lips gave him away. "In my experience, interrogations usually involve dark rooms and torture."

"Not this one. As tempting as it’d be to watch you try all that Winter Soldier stuff on me—" You cut yourself off before saying too much. This was already giving away enough. "We’re playing Truth or Drink." You nodded toward the whiskey he’d brought. "Grab your liquor, Sergeant, and meet me in the living room."

You plopped down on the soft rug in front of your couch, crossing your legs, an arm leaning over the soft cushions as you settled in. The rug’s texture was a comfort beneath you, grounding you for what you suspected was about to be a very revealing game. Bucky followed, setting the whiskey and two glasses down on the coffee table before sitting across from you, all the way down the other side of the couch.

“You’re so far away,” you complained, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s on purpose,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t let you distract me. I’ve got a mission here.”

His teasing tone made your stomach flip, but you masked it with an exaggerated sigh, rolling your eyes as you reached for the whiskey bottle. “Fine, Barnes. Let’s get this over with.” You poured a generous amount into each glass and handed him one. “You wanna go first, or should I?”

“Ladies first,” he said smoothly.  Ever the gentleman—even when he was expertly deploying psychological and emotional blackmail.

Resigning yourself to your inevitable demise, you pretended to think, tapping a finger against your chin. “Alright. Tell me a story about you and Steve.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a question.”

“Fine. Would you please tell me a story about you and Steve?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he took a slow sip of whiskey. “What kind of story?”

“I don’t know... Something interesting. Something no one else knows. Something fun.”

For a moment, Bucky’s gaze drifted, lost somewhere in memories you’d never be able to touch. Then, a small, genuine smile pulled at his lips, and your chest ached at the sight of it. “Alright… Before the serum, before the whole ‘Star-Spangled Man with a Plan’ schtick, when he was just a scrawny kid, Steve used to put newspapers in his shoes to make himself look taller.”

You grinned. “That’s adorable.”

“Yeah, well, not so adorable when it rained and he forgot to take them out.” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “One time, we got caught in a downpour on the way to a dance. Steve walks in, shoes squelching, and suddenly the whole place smells like wet dog and cheap ink.” He chuckled, eyes shining. “God, the way people looked at him. I had to convince the bouncer we weren’t trying to stink up the joint on purpose.”

You laughed, watching the way his shoulders eased, the usual tension in his frame loosening as he let himself revel in a memory that didn’t hurt to hold onto.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you blurted, “Do you think Steve would’ve approved?”

Bucky blinked, confused. “Approved of what?”

“Us,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “Me. Being with you.” You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of the couch cushion. “I mean, we only met a few times before… y’know. And from everything I’ve heard, he was pretty protective of you.”

For a second, you thought he might deflect, but instead, Bucky’s answer was firm. Certain. “Yeah. Steve would’ve approved.”

Your heart did a little flip.

“He would’ve liked that you take care of me,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now, the burn of his unvoiced gratitude not going unnoticed.

Something inside you melted. “See, this is why you need to sit closer.” You scooted forward, shifting toward him. “I need to kiss you and I can’t.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try, doll, but you’re not getting out of your turn that easily.”

You groaned. “Fine. What’s your question?”

“When was the last time you dated someone?” His eyes glinted with something unreadable, but his tone was casual. “Before... this.” He gestured again, this time between the two of you.

You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna know? Out of all the things?”

“Just answer the question, sweetheart.”

You groaned, pulling at the fluffy rug beneath you. “I don’t know, four, five years ago? I lost count. Last real relationship I had was before I got into this whole ‘girl in the chair’ thing. And it didn’t go well.”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“Communication issues,” you said vaguely, then sighed. “And the fact that he had a habit of sleeping with anything that breathed within a three-mile radius—except me. Which included both his best friends. And my roommate at the time.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up before he could school his expression back into something more neutral. “What do you mean ‘except you’?”

You shrugged, forcing nonchalance. “Exactly what it sounds like. He thought I wasn’t... good enough. Or at least not good enough for him.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, something dangerous flashing in his eyes, but before he could open his mouth, you cut in, “You’re overextending your turn, Sergeant. I’m the one asking questions now.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, visibly annoyed that he couldn’t dig deeper into that revelation, but he nodded. “Fine. Go ahead.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, eyeing him. “Did you really have a thing with Sarah?”

Bucky groaned, tipping his head back against the couch, exhaling like a man who’d just been handed a life sentence. “I knew you wouldn’t just let this go. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill Sam.”

You grinned, biting back a laugh. “That’s not a no.”

Bucky rolled his head to the side to glare at you, but there was no real heat behind it. It made you want to kiss him. But then again, everything made you want to kiss him. “There was no thing,” he huffed, shifting so he was facing you more fully. “We flirted. That’s it. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” you said, though the way you hugged your knees closer and half-smothered your smile into your arm made him smirk.

“Sure. You’re jealous, though.”

You wrinkled your nose. “So what if I was?”

Bucky hummed, his smirk widening as he leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something infuriatingly smooth. “It’s cute.”

“Ugh. Shut up.” You stretched your leg out, nudging his thigh with your foot to change the subject. “Your turn.”

Before you could pull away, Bucky’s hand wrapped around your ankle, firm but warm. In one effortless motion, he pulled your leg over his lap, drawing you in like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed absently against your shin as he settled back, casual as ever. But the way his fingers found the muscle of your calf—slow, deliberate, kneading just right—was anything but casual. A shiver ran up your spine. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

He stayed quiet long enough for your nerves to start creeping in. Then his grip tightened, just slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate. “Did you ever think we’d be a one-time thing?”

Your breath hitched. “Us?”

His fingers traced slow, idle patterns against your calf—deceptively nonchalant. But the way his touch set every nerve in your body on fire? Not even close.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “This… thing we’re doing. Did you think it’d last? Or did you go in thinking it was just for one night?”

You hesitated. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, this hadn’t even been on your radar.

“I…” You exhaled, shifting slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. How warm his hands were against your skin. “I never thought of it as a one-time thing.”

His gaze flickered—sharp, assessing, unreadable. “Why?”

You huffed, trying for annoyed, but it came out breathier than you wanted. “Why what?”

His smile was slow, knowing. “Why’d you think it’d be more?”

Your throat tightened. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Reading me.”

“Why?”

“Because some things need to stay a secret.” You swallowed. “Some things… you don’t need to know. It’s too much.”

His grin widened, dark amusement curling at the edges. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

You curled your fingers into the rug beneath you. “Fine.” The word felt heavier than it should. “Just don’t be mad if you don’t like it.” You pressed on before he could interrupt. “This, you… it was never something I could walk away from.”

His fingers stilled—just for a second—before resuming those slow, maddening circles. “And that’s a bad thing?”

You scoffed, mostly to deflect. “For me? Yeah.”

His thumb pressed deeper into your skin. “Why?”

You sighed, dropping your head back against the couch before meeting his gaze again. "Because I got attached. One kiss, and I was already in too deep. And now? Now, I don’t know how to want you halfway. If you had only ever wanted me for a night, I would’ve taken it. Even if it broke me.” Your voice quieted. “And now we’re here, and it’s been months, and if this goes wrong—” You swallowed hard. “If you suddenly realize you don’t want this, or me, or that it's all too much— I don’t think I’d come out the other side in one piece.”

Bucky didn’t speak right away. Just watched you, unreadable as ever. Then, his thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along the curve of your knee, sending another shiver down your spine. “I know”, he said after a moment. Then, softer—raw, stripped of bravado:

“That’s what scares me.”

His words burned, low and true, cutting deeper than you expected. It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t doubt. It was something else entirely.

It was honesty.

And in that moment, you felt it—the shift. He was cracking open, piece by piece, letting you see the soft, bleeding parts of him that no one else had ever touched.

He let you see him. All of him. Let you peer in for as long as you wanted, as if he had made peace with it. That there was no wall you couldn’t bring down, so he just accepted it.

And maybe that was the real weight of it. Not the sex, not his past, not your willingness, but this—this terrifying, aching certainty that he could ruin you. That you’d let him. That if he asked, you would lay yourself bare at his feet and never ask for anything in return. He knew that if he asked, you would give him everything. Every last piece of yourself, until he was whole and you were the one bleeding.

Silence stretched between you, thick and humming. His eyes stayed locked onto yours, searching, waiting. And you realized—this was the test. Not the chase, not the tension, not even the words you hadn’t yet spoken. The test was whether you could hold his gaze, whether you could sit in the weight of this moment and not look away.

Your breath came shallow, chest tight, but you didn’t look away.

You couldn’t.

Not when his fingers curled just a little tighter on your thigh, like he was feeling the way you trembled. Not when his gaze flickered down, tracing the shape of your lips, the quickening pulse at your throat, the way your body betrayed you in ways your words refused to.

His voice was softer this time, but no less intense. “You know… I don’t do halfway either.”

Damn him.

The air between you turned electric. Your pulse hammered against your ribs, a warning and an invitation all at once.

“Bucky…” Your voice barely cleared a whisper, but he heard it. His fingers slid a little higher, grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

“What?” His tone was laced with challenge, teasing, but his eyes—his eyes were dark. Intent.

You let out a shaky breath. “Don’t… don’t play with me, okay?”

His smirk faltered, something shifting in his expression. “Is that what you think? That I don’t feel the same way? That this is some kind of game?”

“I don’t know.” You swallowed. “You’re hard to read.”

“I’m easier than you think.”

You shook your head. “I can’t read you right now.”

Bucky hummed, tilting his head slightly as you shifted, letting your arm rest against the couch behind him, seeking another point of contact. Your fingers slipped into the soft strands at the nape of his neck—an experiment, really. His lashes fluttered shut, just for a second, and your stomach flipped. Gravity, that’s what he was. A force pulling you in, impossible to resist. God, you wanted to climb into his lap and devour him whole.

“You can read me,” he murmured, eyes still closed. “You’re just scared you’ll see something you can’t ignore.”

Your heart pounded. “You always say that… Like you’re so sure I’ll wake up one day and decide you're a monster.” Your voice was quieter now. “That I'll finally see you the way you see yourself. It's not going to happen, Bucky.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He finally looked at you, his voice quieter now, but no less sure. “I mean… you’ll finally let yourself believe I feel the same way about you as you do about me.”

Your stomach flipped violently.

The air thickened, pressing in from all sides, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if you could breathe right. His words settled deep, threading into places you weren’t ready to touch—places that made you want too much, feel too much. It was too honest, too real, and if you let yourself linger there, you might drown in it.

So, you did the only thing you could. You swerved.

You sucked in a breath, forcing a smirk. “You really gotta stop saying things like that.”

His brow lifted slightly. “Like what?”

“Like… things that make my heart feel like it’s about to explode.” You made a vague, fluttery motion near your chest. “It’s very inconsiderate. You should warn a girl before you go throwing around words like that.”

Bucky huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh, but he didn’t take the bait. His gaze stayed steady, unyielding, like he was waiting for you to actually sit with what he’d just said.

Nope. Not happening.

Instead, you let a wicked grin curled at your lips, a lifeline in dangerous waters. “Okay, I have a good one.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, wary but intrigued. “Go on.”

You bit your lip, leaning in like you had a secret too tempting to resist. “That first night we had sex… was that your first time since the ’40s?”

For half a second, he just blinked at you, like he couldn’t believe the words had actually left your mouth. Then, with a groan, he tipped his head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ.”

He laughed, but you caught the way the tops of his ears tinged red, his cheeks following suit. “That bad, huh?”

You gasped, swatting at his chest. “I never said that.”

He smirked, reaching for his drink. “Can you get me another one? I might not recover from this.”

You laughed, fingers curling tighter in his hair before dragging down the back of his neck, feeling the way he shivered under your touch. “If I tell you the truth about it, your ego will get so big we’ll both suffocate in this room.” You tilted his chin up with a knuckle, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. “Come on, tell me.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, but you saw through him. He was stalling, rolling the words around in his head, figuring out how much to give away. Your heart picked up pace, watching the way his jaw worked, the way his fingers flexed.

Finally, he exhaled. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice quieter. “It was.”

You swallowed, lips parting, but before you could respond, he continued.

“I didn’t even remember how good it felt. Not until—” Bucky sighed, leaning back into your touch as if it steadied him.

“Until?” You urged him on, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp.

“Until I had you naked under me, wrapped around my fingers.” His eyes darkened, and his voice dipped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “You were so wet and so… warm. When I—”

“I remember,” you cut him off, voice barely above a whisper, pressing your mouth to his shoulder to ground yourself.

And you did. You remembered the way he had frozen, realization crashing over him like a wave, the way his breath had hitched when he finally understood what it would feel like to be inside you. The memory sent a delicious shudder through you, and when you glanced down, you found his hand still on your leg, fingers tracing absentminded circles over your skin.

“So do I,” he admitted, his laugh coming out breathy, almost disbelieving. “Thought about it more times than I’d like to admit.”

You bit your lip, sliding your palm over his stomach, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. “You don’t have to just think. You can do it again,” you murmured. “Anytime. Anything you want, you can do it to me. You know that, right?”

His breath hitched, those piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, holding you captive. In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t letting you slip away. Every dodge, every joke, every attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere, he unraveled it effortlessly, guiding you right back to where he wanted you. "Why do you offer me so much?" His voice was low, edged with something unsteady. "Your body. Your trust. Why do you give yourself to me so freely?" The illusion of a lighthearted game shattered, the bourbon forgotten on the table, its amber warmth abandoned in favor of something far stronger—the charged air between you. It pulsed with the weight of everything you refused to admit, with the inevitability of what came next.

It felt like being caught in a storm’s eye, a vacuum where time stretched and condensed, where the world outside ceased to exist. There was only this moment, this man, and the unrelenting gravity of his presence. You could either surrender and give him the truth he was so keen to obtain, or wait for him to relent, to spare you, to step back and let you escape once more.

But you knew—God, you knew—he wouldn’t. His gaze was unwavering, his body coiled with the kind of patience that promised he could outlast you. He would outlast you. He had outlasted every single person in his life, why would you be any different? He wasn’t just waiting; he was chasing, methodical and unshakable.

And you? You were already lost. Because deep down, past all the resistance, you knew there was only one ending to this. You would give in. You would tell him what he wanted to hear.

Because how could you not?

Your chest tightened under the weight of his stare, each word peeling you open. "I want you to take it. To have me." The confession felt too vast, too exposed, but you forced yourself to continue. "You always hold back. Always deny yourself of everything good. I don’t want that for us. If you—if you don’t want this, it won’t be because I never gave you the choice."

His expression didn’t waver. “Is that the only reason?”

“I—” Your inhale was shaky, your eyes searching his.

“Do you only want this because you think I need something to hold on to?”

“No.” The word ripped from your throat, immediate, your head shaking, your voice cracking under the weight of it. “No, Bucky. That’s not… I don’t want to be some rehabilitation for you. I want to be with you. All of you.” 

Your fingers twisted into his shirt, clinging to the fabric like a lifeline, like letting go would unravel you completely. “You don’t understand… I chose you, even when you never asked to be chosen.” A breathless, humorless laugh escaped you, sharp and fragile all at once. “But I couldn’t help it. With you, it’s like I finally—” You exhaled shakily, searching for the words, for air, for him. “Like it’s finally right. It fits. We fit. It’s like I was always meant for this. Meant for you.”

The confession scraped against your ribs, raw and aching, and you blinked hard, forcing back the sting behind your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this. For anyone. Never trusted anyone enough to—to let myself be claimed, to be theirs” Your voice barely held, a whisper on the edge of breaking. “But with you, it just… happened. You looked at me and it was over. I want you to be the one I belong to.”

Bucky’s lips parted, his breath shallow, but his voice was firm. Certain. “Because you love me.”

The moment he said it, you felt it—the trap snapping shut around you with perfect precision. You had to hand it to him; he was a damn good interrogator. You hadn’t even suspected that this was where he was leading you. Your breath hitched, emotions rising too fast to control, clawing at your throat like something primal, something desperate. His hand was still on your ankle, grounding, waiting. But he let you move, sensing the shift, the way your body coiled like a spring, the way your lips trembled as you fought against the inevitable.

“You’re not being fair,” you choked out, voice cracking as you turned your face away from his unwavering gaze.

“I just want to hear it, doll.”

Your chest ached. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers curling into the fabric of your own sweater like you could hold yourself together if you just squeezed hard enough. “You know why I can’t.”

“I actually don’t.”

“You’ll leave. It’ll be too much…” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. “You’ll run. And I don’t want to lose you because of my stupid feelings.”

Silence stretched between you, thick, suffocating. The air felt electric, charged with everything you weren’t saying. When you finally dared to look at him, his expression was unreadable, something soft, something searching. And then, just the slightest tilt of his lips—sad, knowing.

“Doll…” His fingers trailed slowly up your calf, not teasing this time, but tethering. A lifeline. “I’m here.”

“Until when?” The question was a wound, raw and bleeding. The first tear slipped free before you could stop it. The second followed before you even realized it was there. Bucky’s grip faltered, his fingers tightening—then loosening—like the words had landed somewhere deep, somewhere fragile.

Then, he let out a rough, breathless laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Until you’re done with me.” His voice was quiet, resigned. Like he already knew the ending to this story before it ever happened. “Until you don’t love me anymore. Until you realize what a mess I am and find someone better.”

Your breath stuttered, your heart hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt. “There’s no one better. No one else.”

You didn’t push him away when he reached for you, cradling the back of your neck with steady, careful hands. His touch was warm, unshakable. The kiss that followed was a collision—of fear, of longing, of too many unspoken things. It was salty with tears, but it tasted sweeter than anything you’d ever known. Bucky cupped your face, thumbs chasing away the stubborn wetness on your cheeks, lips moving slow, deliberate, like he had something to prove to you. And you let him. You let him tilt your head back, let him drag a hand down the length of your throat, let yourself drown in the sensation of him.

He tasted like bourbon and longing and home, and you drank him in like he was the only thing keeping you alive. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Not when he pulled you onto his lap, not when he tangled a hand in your hair and tipped his head back against the couch, letting you take what you wanted—what you both wanted. Not when your kisses turned frantic, desperate, until your lips were bruised and swollen from the way you couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop.

“You ready to tell me now?” His voice was a rasp against your lips, breathless, hungry. His fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck, his free hand dragging under your sweater, fingers mapping the heat of your skin. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart. Do you know how badly—” he pressed a kiss to your jaw, your throat, your shoulder, “—how badly I’ve wanted to hear it? Since that night at my apartment? You were crying for me, and I—”

He was unraveling. And so were you.

You barely had time to react before he moved, pressing you down against the rug, his hands burning paths down your thighs as he spread them open, pressing himself against you, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he hovered above you.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded. “You want me to take what I want, don’t you? You want me to claim you? This is it, sweetheart. This is what I want.”

Your breath caught. This version of him—raw, unfiltered, pleading—it stunned you into silence. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his name barely more than a whimper on your lips as his mouth found your skin again, leaving bruises, leaving proof.

Your hands were trembling, your pulse a thunderous rhythm beneath your skin. Fear curled in your belly, a living thing, coiling tight around your ribs, squeezing your lungs. You had never been so afraid of words before, of the weight they carried, of the way they could change everything in an instant.

“C’mon, sweetheart, say it,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against your lips. His hands gripped your waist, grounding himself in the reality of you, as if touch alone wasn’t enough. “I already know, doll. I just—I need to hear it.”

His voice was softer this time, but no less commanding, no less desperate. His eyes searched yours, stormy and endless, as if he were trying to commit you—this moment—to memory, afraid you might slip through his fingers like sand.

His breath hitched, fingers tightening ever so slightly, his forehead pressing against yours. “Give me something real,” he rasped, his voice thick, aching. “Let me hold onto it.”

“James—”

“Say it.” His voice cracked, a raw, broken thing, like he was shattering before your eyes. “Please, doll. I’m begging you.”

Your lungs burned, your heart a frantic drumbeat against your ribs, an erratic melody of terror and longing. Your throat closed around the words, refusing to let them go, but you knew—God, you knew—you couldn’t hold them in any longer. Not when he was looking at you like that. Like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

“I love you,” you finally breathed, the confession slipping from your lips like an exhale, fragile and trembling. 

The effect on him was instant, visceral, breathtaking.

A sharp inhale. A flicker of disbelief, of something breaking and rebuilding all at once in his expression. His hand tightened at the nape of your neck, his forehead falling to rest against yours as if the weight of your words had stolen his balance. His breath was uneven, shuddering against your lips, and for a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just held you there in the space between heartbeats.

His lips parted, but no words came out—not at first. His breath hitched, his fingers curling slightly against your skin like he was afraid to let go. Then, finally, in a voice so raw it nearly shattered you, he whispered, "Say it again."

“I love you.”

[suddencolds]

Hello! I'm not sure if you remember, I'm a Korean reader who left the comment for a few months ago. As I mentioned before, it was so hard finding any snz fic or any of this culture in my country. When I first joined the forum site and discovered your fics, I've really enjoyed reading all of your Yves& Vincent fics many times. Time has passed now, but they're still very special to me. Thank you for the amazing writings.

I drew a fan cartoon from the first episode(Erika's home party scene), and I would love to give this to you as a gift. It hasn't been long since I joined Tumblr, so I'm not sure if this is the right place of sending fan arts💦

+ ) Oh, and about my account... One of my friends knows my account, so it's not easy to reveal my fetish on my account if you wonder why it doesn't look like a fetish one ..😅 But I can say I'm truly into it

+) And I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured all of a sudden by this😢

Still, I'm really rooting for you from afar, thank you!

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO?@!$?>!@>?@?>@$?>>?@$!?>$!>?

I ACTUALLY GASPED OPENING MY INBOX TO THIS???!?!??!?!??!?!??! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I AM SO HONORED THAT YOU TOOK THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? IT'S SO COOL GETTING TO SEE THIS SCENE IN A VISUAL COMIC FORMAT 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THANK YOU SO MUCH???????

going to add more screaming under the cut because man do I have so many things to say

I am really happy you chose this scene (from Fool Me Twice pt. 3) to draw; it's actually one of my personal favorites :') your Vincent is SO CUTE 😭 He's so outwardly nonchalant about all of this (but the slight flush to his cheeks is getting me 🤭 Right after he says 'She'll probably be expecting us to kiss' too???? I love the implication that he is perhaps less composed about all of this than he appears to be 😊‼️)

THE FACT THAT VINCENT CUPS YVES'S JAW TO KISS HIM??? AND THE WAY YVES CLOSES HIS EYES INTO THE KISS??? I really love how you drew all the tension and uncertainty leading up to that point... but then when they kiss it just feels so natural 😭 I also love the way you framed this... the balcony railing and the atmosphere of having the fireworks in the background go off when the countdown ends 😭!!! And the framing shot of the party inside... I am still so in awe that you made an entire comic of the scene?????? I feel so honored??????

ALSO YVES 😭😭😭 the intimacy of seeing it drawn and seeing him snz in such close proximity to Vincent is genuinely setting me on fire 😭 aLSO THE WAY HE TURNS AWAY SO QUICKLY AND COVERS HIS WHOLE FACE WITH HIS HAND??? 😳😵‍💫 The frame where his hand lingers over his face as he sniffles is sooo cute... he looks so embarrassed and apologetic 🥹❤️ I am so normal about this (I am not normal at all)

Vincent's "You don't have to worry about that :)" is making me giggle too 😭 Also I am in love with how you drew both their hair?? I want to give your Yves a hug so badly omg 😭

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? Seeing this made me so happy 😭 I no joke like hopped onto my bed and rolled around smiling 😭 You put so much thought into the placement for everything; the way you drew Y + V's expressions and their body language feels very thoughtful and nuanced, and it's just such a treat to see the scene unfold like this :') I am so endlessly grateful 🙇‍♀️❤️

[ceedak]

can we get a ceedak timeline 🤔 i feel like there’s a lot idk abt them fr 😭😭

yes u absolutely can i could talk about them forever and ever 🥳🥳

disclaimer: i do wanna say this is just from what i’ve gathered because i didn’t become super fixated on nfl rpf until last year </3 one day i’ll do a legit deep dive like an insane person and update with all my findings…

second disclaimer: im delusional yes and a part of me straight up thinks that they’ve had to have hooked up at least once bc i love to psychoanalyze people i'll never meet but i’ll make sure to say when i’m being fully delusional KSDJFHSKDS

putting it under a read more because i’m sure it’ll be much longer than necessary

also i will reblog this and add links to some videos!!

SO before i get into like when ceedee was drafted and such i wanna talk about how invisible string coded they are because i love shit like this sm

both were born in louisiana only about an hour and a half apart from each other until ceedee moved to texas as a child after hurricane katrina hit (he’s said he’s moved around a couple of times as kid in interviews before)

dak went to mississippi st. in college and ceedee’s dream school was LSU (rival colleges… 🚬) but he had committed to oklahoma (also they wouldn’t have met or anything in college anyway because dak was drafted in 2016 and ceedee started playing in college in 2017 but i digress it makes my brain light up anyway lol)

when dak was drafted he was projected to go like late second round/early third round of the draft but 🗿 he got into some trouble beforehand (driving under the influence) and ended up falling to the 4th round (after the front office kept trying to trade up to get a different backup QB)

dak also had to compete for his spot as a backup and was named starter after romo was injured in 2016. this was dak’s rookie year and he led them to the playoffs - almost to the nfc championship game. after this he basically took the job from romo

okay so FAST FORWARD to the 2020 draft. ceedee was projected to go top 10 and he fell all the way to SEVENTEEN so the cowboys were able to grab him then (drafted bpa instead of for need)

idk all of this is just very <333 to me that so many things managed to fall into place just right and they managed to find each other on the same team out of THIRTY TWO teams it makes me weeeep 🤧 also just something else that i think is very cute because i truly am a little insane: ceedee was born april 8th and dak’s jersey number is 4 and ceedee’s is 88 so 4/8 ALL THE DOTS CONNECT SOMEHOW…

so we’ll go through a teensy bit about dak i suppose and then ceedee this won’t be too long

dak: baby of his family and has two brothers. his parents divorced when he was little and he was very close with his mom before she passed away in 2013 (he’s started a foundation since then for cancer research and suicide prevention/mental health). went to mississippi st, cowboys starter his rookie year, etc etc. he also lost his brother to suicide in 2020 and he’s said before he feels a responsibility to live on and carry his and his mom’s legacy throughout his life. he’s like suuuuuper underrated in the league i feel and a lot of cowboys fans are complete assholes to him all the time it makes me so mad cos they could literally never ever make me hate him - he makes me so weepy 😭😭😭 umm but yeah he’s donated a ton to children cancer funds too and donated during BLM protests and things like that - he won the walter payton man of the year award. he just had a baby and got engaged in october (remember for the yaoi LOL) ok im gonna stop here cause i don’t wanna rant too much lol

btw i know what you are dak prescott:

ceedee: MY BELOVED… my favorite my absolute favorite. he has two brothers and two little sisters. idk if he’s the eldest or not tbh i see different things all the time that he’s the second eldest whatever not that important i guess. so blah blah college blah blah - he wears 88 on the team because that’s considered really special to the cowboys franchise and is reserved for elite receivers. idk he’s the most beautiful man ever and he does a lot of donating too - i know he participates in a lot of football youth camps a lot to help kids out and he likes to provide meals to families around thanksgiving and christmas time. a loooot of cowboys fans have criticized him for not being that much of a leader and pouting a lot on the sidelines (which he does sometimes… my mimir) but i think this last season he’s reaaaaallyyy taken a step into more of a leader type position especially with dak being out and he’s proven himself more than enough. he LOOOVES spending money on clothes it’s so cute… gonna be a sad day when the class war happens and i’m faced with cedarian lamb. ummm i also legit think he’s gay and closet is made of glass but whatever

see this is the problem i never stfu but okay CEEDAK what you actually asked about ksjdksjdks

PRE-2020 SEASON: this was before ceedee was drafted (some stuff i found last night) and this is what i mean when i say i haven’t done like a deep dive into these things bc i’m sure there’s soo much more but this kinda gives the general vibes

“I was like a little kid at the playground,” CeeDee tells us. (on the first time Dak texted him to invite him over to his house, says it was surreal.) august 21, 2020

and i actually hunted the exact clip down where he says this: (will reblog with link - skip to 4:25 he talks for like a minute or so - sorry the audio’s funky it’s because of covid so all the reporters weren’t in the room i’m pretty sure) DELUSIONS: you can’t tell me ceedee wasn’t nursing a crush here idgaf

2020 SEASON:

ceedee’s rookie year

personal stuff happened with dak before the season started - this is when he lost his brother to suicide and he’s been really outspoken about mental health since then. on top of that he broke his ankle during week 5 of the season (and tried to snap it back into place by himself on the field). dak was performing on like a sort of insane level before the injury happened so </3 what could’ve been and all that… the what-ifs of it all… so that year they weren’t able to play together as much

Oct 11, 2020: “CeeDee Lamb said he texted Dak as soon as he got out of the shower. Thanked him for everything he’s done for him and they were gonna hold it down for him until they see him on the field again.” (after the game dak got hurt in)

POST 2020 SEASON:

"He came back from his second surgery about two months ago so he’s walking around, rehabbing, doing everything right," Lamb said Wednesday. "It’s great to see, especially when you seen him go down. You saw the look in his eyes and you saw how sad he was and how much this game meant to him. Just to see him smiling again, happy again, being with his guys is a great deal."

"First day he kind of caught me by surprise with his arm strength," Lamb said. "He knows the little nuances of the game to be better. He makes it easy to follow him, if you will."

2021 SEASON

ceedee’s second year, he was in a WR room with amari cooper (currently on the bills) and michael gallup (now retired) blah blah season happened whateverrrr but AFTER this season the front office (i’ll always be mad about this lol) traded amari to the browns for a 5th round pick 💀 hence THIS!!! which i consider the #Real beginning of ceedak:

“Dak Prescott asked for CeeDee Lamb’s locker to be moved next to his: ‘My two other locker mates left, so I was a little lonely. With him being young, hopefully he’s my WR until I’m done playing. Just bring him closer, more conversations, he’s right there to talk and communicate.’”

said he had no doubt ceedee could become his "main guy"

here’s some fun stuff i found from 2021 too

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3hCmIZN-YI&ab_channel=DallasCowboys (7 min mark this was after a game winning td in overtime against new england)

“CeeDee Lamb on game-winning 35-yard TD: ‘It was the best feeling ever, honestly.’”

2022 SEASON:

https://youtu.be/T73xGDsFiVo?si=Qn_dwK1yfnHPiMya talks about dak here at 7:50 “all i need is him” 🤧

he’s actually said this a couple times lol he says shit like “we’re all we got” about each other - he’s said it this most recent season too so <3

dak injured his thumb this season though so he was out for like 7 weeks i think i can’t remember off the top of my head lol but again another season where they didn’t get to play much together

fun 2022 stuff:

“Last year, Cowboys caked Dak in the face on the field for his 28th birthday. On his 29th today, CeeDee told us they planned to do the same in the locker room. Hoped Dak would think he was safe after no cake on the field, and then locker room ambush.”

“Scene here: Dak was talking to us at his locker. CeeDee walks past wearing metallic red lens sunglasses indoors and eating chicken. Says the key to following up ass-kicking is ‘keep kicking ass.’”

“Dak on CeeDee’s vibe: Yeah, cool as hell - says ‘keep kicking ass’ while he’s eating.”

“Dak Prescott walked by during our interview with CeeDee Lamb - QB1: CeeDee’s that dude! / WR1: Happy birthday, Dak!”

link posted in reblog: skip to 2:30 he almost says he loves dak lol also very

2023: THE SEASON OF CEEDAK!!!

https://youtu.be/7_WRIzb5fPA?si=R0TETc2qtW0IOP5P the infamous "was gonna take him out for dinner tonight" clip is from this aka what got me hooked on ceedak lol (this interview is just so good in general i love ceedee sm - def recommend watching! such a nice look at his personality)

this is where my delusions take over i deadass think they hooked up at LEAST once around this time lol maybe end of 2022 season maybe early 2023 season IDK but anyway during this year the offense was soo wack for a couple of weeks until the bye week and then ceedee made some noise about it bc he felt like he wasn't being as utilized (which is true i'm so serious mccarthy was SUCH an annoying coach lol) but quotes:

“Cowboys WR CeeDee Lamb said Dak Prescott approached him and said: ‘If you have a problem with anything, just come up to me and we’ll talk about it.’ Lamb said he and Dak worked on getting on the same page their first day back in the building after the 49ers loss.”

Dak: ‘I mean, a frustrated player that feels like we all could’ve done better and feels like he can change the game, I understand it. I really do. So it’s in the sense of just communicating with him… CeeDee is a guy that I’ll never lose confidence in and trust who he is and understand why he’s frustrated. But at the end of the day, he’s a leader. It’s about him leading other guys and picking other guys up and him just trying to make sure we’re all pushing our best. That’s where the frustration is, we have to remove that. And he will. He’s a young player that’s growing by the day and he’ll only get better. He’ll be better because of that.’

but after they switched the offense around dak and ceedee went craaaazyyy - ceedee was named all pro, dak was in mvp talks (should have won it to be honest i'm sorry lamar i still love you <3) but 2023 cowboys will seriously haunt me forever lol

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sudQu72KDXs&ab_channel=NFLonFOX

DELUSIONS: dak announced he was having a baby like two weeks after this game SO let’s just say…. maybe…. perhaps… they were hooking up… ceedee probably knew before the public did - not saying that’s why he seems a little upset at the beginning of this clip cause who knows 🤷‍♀️ like i said DELUSIONS but… i can’t help it when the timeline timelines don’t shoot the messenger

also i do wanna mention that dak’s fiance follows a loooot of cowboys players on ig but she does not follow ceedee and he doesn’t follow her AGAIN just delusions…. but… iykyk 👀

sooo they were poppin off in 2023, ceedee was breaking records and shit, won nfc east, went to the playoffs and then i DON'T wanna talk about it i have my theories about wtf happened during that playoffs packers game but 💀💀 anyway the offseason before the 2024 season was genuinely the worst of my life because BOTH ceedee and dak had to get extended and jerry jones (who is the worst) waited until after training camp to get them both signed lol so ceedee wasn't participating in training camp at all which affected them in the beginning of the 2024 season which was a complete mess A MESS but here's some fun stuff after ceedee signed his extension/during that offseason

“Remarkable. That’s who CeeDee Lamb is. … He’s special. He’s just getting going and as long as I’m here, he’s gonna keep stacking these records year after year.”

“CeeDee Lamb strongly defended Dak: No one deserves the criticism that he gets. The way he gets talked about is crazy.”

2023-2024 OFFSEASON:

worst months of my life lol ceedee was holding out for his new contract and didn’t get it signed until like… august i think? anddd dak was signed fucking three hours before kickoff the first week of the season lol i HATE this front office

but here’s some fun quotes after ceedee was signed:

CeeDee Lamb: “We were texting quite a bit. Obviously I missed being out there, competing with him… for is being so in tune together and all it takes is one text message or one conversation, one phone call… for us both… having the same passion for the game, same love for the game. I want what’s best for Dak and vice versa. Shout out to him too for getting that bag, too. We’ll be together for the next five years.”

Dak Prescott on CeeDee Lamb’s added muscle weight: “He’s wearing a lot more sleeveless shirts. As long as the speed is there, and it looks like it is (in practice), I’m fine with however big he is.” LMAO??

Dak Prescott: “I peeped the biceps. He’s wearing more sleeveless shirts now.”

Dak Prescott recently on CeeDee Lamb: “He’s talented. He works hard. He’s special. He’s the best receiver in the league for a reason. And I’ve seen Instagram videos. I know you’ve seen him. He’s working. And he works hard. So I have no angst, no worries about when he gets here that we’re not going to pick up where we left off. And when you're a stud like that and you’re smart like he is and you’re good at communicating, that makes that process that much easier. So it’s not like we’ve got to build something. We’ve got that. We just got to reignite it when he gets here.”

on how much ceedee worked with dak at the field at dak’s house even though he was staying away from the team: “Often. I would say quite often. Anytime that I’m back in town, and he’s obviously back here, I hit him and then… it’s very… good having a rich quarterback.”

Dak Prescott’s thoughts on the tandem of him and CeeDee Lamb being compared to legendary duos like Joe Montana and Jerry Rice: “I think that says a lot just cause we’ve only done it for four years and you just named some of those duos that did it for their whole careers. But then again, I feel like we can be better than all of them… so love the comparisons, they sound good and all, but hopefully one day people are saying these next duos and next tandems can be like me and CeeDee.” (i will kms over this quote one day)

i’m sure there’s things i’m missing but this is already sooooo long lol so

2024 SEASON:

WORST SEASON OF MY LIFEEEEEE / ceedak angst era

the front office set this team up to fail and let like a ton of players walk in the offseason, didn’t use free agency, injury riddled team, had a bunch of rookies starting but anyway just gonna go game by game really quick because this is when i was locked tf in and it’s more recent so ?? more detail seems alright when it's necessary also i wrote so many half-finished post-game fics this season to cope with how terrible it was i’m cryingggg it was insane

cowboys vs browns: i was at this game :) good game they won

cowboys vs saints: blocked this game out actually!!!

cowboys vs ravens: fake ass comeback also the game ceedee CRASHED OUT on the field lskdjslkdjsskjdsk which is so funny bc i literally love lamar sm and was so excited to watch but… my players wanted to make me MISERABLE

this was said a day or two after the game by ceedee (bc he fumbled during it and then wasn't there for post game media people andddd was yelling at dak on the sideline 🗿)

“Our relationship has, if anything, gotten stronger. Don’t let what, what’s out there fool you. We’re brothers to the end. We know that we all we got, and I tip my hat off to him. I got the utmost respect for him.”

“So with that being said, everything is gonna come out - the energy, the passion, the love, the fight - and then we’ll make up in the end. So no, no craziness now. Don’t.”

dak also said something about his rhythm with ceedee being a “rare feeling” which… okay internalized homophobia but i CANNOT for the life of me find the actual quote i’ve searched through my gallery but it’s not there </3 if i find i’ll add later (i’m pretty sure it was after the baltimore game but i can’t remember)

cowboys vs giants: this is a tremicah game no need to mention ceedak idt - nasty ugly win but whatever

cowboys vs steelers: dak prescott giving me a heart attack 12 fucking times during this game

cowboys vs lions: don’t wanna talk about it! i’m a hater! always will be sorry!!! ben johnson statpadding on my sorry ass terrible team i was SICKKKKK

BYE WEEK: my trials and tribulations…. my nfl rpf…

CeeDee Lamb on getting in some extra work with Dak Prescott during their bye week: “We love our bye weeks. We took advantage of it. We got right. We used every opportunity to get better and I feel like it’s going to show. We got on some routes, and obviously the timing is everything. We needed that.”

now ummm this is the week dak got engaged so. which is really funny because after the announcement post on ig ceedee went GHOST on instagramksjdjks like i went back to check because i’m crazy (these are delusions btw) and he had been posting like once a week… maybe once every two weeks PRETTY consistently like for at least a couple of months but after the engagement happened there was pretty much nothing for like… almost two months?? ummm which AGAIN i’m not saying anything i’m not insinuating anything buuuuut…… buuuuut….. also it’s really fucking funny because in this same interview ceedee dropped that he left the country during the bye week but didn’t post it on socials at all so i’m like ohhhh… you’re coping w the engagement… i see LMAO anyway

cowboys vs 49ers: sigghhhh….. lets get into it

SO this was a loss but two ceedee touchdowns.. i’m leaving with something!!!

“Yeah, I found CeeDee,” Prescott said when reflecting back on Lamb’s breakout in the Bay Area. “He did a good job of getting open, running all of his routes hard no matter where he was, if he was the one or if he was backside on a concept. Loved his intentionality in the game. He kind of said something like that to me during the game, midway through the game, like ‘Yeah, we’re back.’ And that was before, I think, his two touchdown drives. So just him even playing with that confidence, communicating that, it gives me a lot of confidence.”

super hopeful right maybe they'll really connect again and things'll be fine LOL

cowboys vs falcons: worst game ever dak tore his hamstring off the bone like a fucking idiot and ceedee sprained his AC joint and would not stop going back out into the game i was ready to kms

cowboys vs eagles: not talking about it idc

cowboys vs texans: loss because ofc but whatever ceedak hugged before the game tho so i didn’t gaf about the loss - i can’t find the clip rn but if i do i’ll post it

cowboys vs commanders: this is when i accepted they were tanking and then they decided to just be elite for whatever reason lol made me so happy though ceedee was so happy <33

cowboys vs giants: whatever

cowboys vs bengals: worst fucking game of my life nothing to do with ceedak but one of my other fave player’s (i also ship him w ceedee idgaf) knee EXPLODED so that was so much fun to deal with

cowboys vs panthers: i still can’t believe bryce young decided to forget how to play football in this game im crying

cowboys vs tampa: again they just wanted to be elite for whatever reason

cowboys vs: eagles: don’t wanna talk about it idc

cowboys vs commanders: WHATEVER thanks for the 12th draft pick ashton jeanty you will be a cowboy

SO. that’s basically where everything's at lmfao worst season EVERRRRR with ceedak ANGST um but yeah hopefully 2025 will be better... i’m cautiously optimistic because their old coach is finally FINALLY gone because he was really limiting them and their ability you know? 2023 season was amazing and then 2024 started and it was like… mccarthy just reverted back to his old scheme that wasn’t working. it was really annoyingksdkskds. but the new coach (despite it seeming like a silly hire) had a decent press conference (that ceedee didn’t attend bc he was playing around in paris LOL) andddd he seems to be setting up a nice staff around him so hopefully hopefully hopefully 2025 is a lot better and ceedak will save me again… can’t wait for training camp omg

anyway if u read all this i’m SO sorry i hope it’s… expansive enough?? i wanted to include kind of how it’s been through the years and i had a lot more to add for 2023/2024 because that’s when my adhd was just like Yea let’s hyperfixate on this so. been stuck here for awhile and i’ll probably be stuck here for years and years and years <3

[htchnr]

ミ★ not now, but one day. ᰔ FRANK CASTLE.

𖦹 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𖦹 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢!

「 ꜜsummary,, it's one of those weeks. so Frank reminds you clearly, that it will be okay. not right now, but it will be soon. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, feeling fucking awful ⋆ self indulgent comfort fic ⋆ Frank's rough yet painfully sweet words ⋆ insinuation of not taking care of oneself ⋆ depression. ꜜwc,, 0,8k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

the apartment is almost completely silent when Frank comes home. the only sounds that can be heard are those of the washing machine tumbling and the sound of the dishwasher doing a cycle. 

Frank takes off his boots, barely making a sound as he puts them on the shoe rack and hangs up his jacket. the duffle bag lays discarded by the door, he'll deal with that in the morning. 

he stretches his arms as he passes the kitchen, the promise of a warm bed making him more tired by the second— the long day having worn him out. he can't wait to slide under the warm covers and wrap his arms around you, finally being able to hold you after weeks of heavy work. 

he quietly pushes the door to your bedroom open, a low creak being pulled from the worn out metal as he closes it behind him. he moves over to his side of the bed, pulling his sweatshirt off, along with shoving his jeans down his thick thighs— leaving the discarded clothes in a heap beside the bed. another thing he'll deal with in the morning.

he turns around, leaning down to pull the covers up and slides into bed, wrapping an arm around your hot body. he only now notices that he's been cold, now that your scorching bare arms and legs are being pulled against his body.

he notices how you remain laying there; judging by your heart rate you're awake, though you're not doing anything to show it. Frank cocks an eyebrow. maybe you were just falling asleep?

" honey, you 'wake? " he rasps, his voice low and gravily due to his tiredness. no response.

Frank frowns. he moves one of his large hands over to your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. his brows furrow when you do— his eyes meeting your tear stained face and somewhat lifeless eyes. so it one of those days.

Frank has had plenty of them. where waking up was the only thing he could do. wake up in a cold sweat from a bad dream, lay there for hours, then fall asleep eventually. wake up in a cold sweat, repeat.

one of his large hands comes up to cup your face, the rough pad of his thumb gently stroking your crusty cheek. " what's goin'on? " he asks, the lovesick concern in his voice clear. he hates seeing you like this.

you shake your head— a motion barely noticeable, but he catches it nonetheless. his heart clenching as he pulls you into his chest, his thick arms wrapping around you. you don't hug him back, but the hand against his chest that's curled up into a fist tells him all he needs to know. 

sometimes, all you could do on these days was just lay there. for entire days on end. the digital alarm clock on your nightstand reads 4:38AM in angry red numbers, glaring at him and scolding him for how late he got home. 

the next time his eyes fall to the clock, it reads 5:59AM. he glances down at you, the side of your eyes showing that you held them open, just staring at his scarred chest. a few tears dripping down your cheeks and onto the bed. he finds himself wide awake since the moment he felt something was off.

he shifts a little, moving over you a little. he knows you love your weighted blanket— the one you never sleep without when he's not there— and he knows that when he is there that nothing beats the weight of him. either him laying mostly on top of you, or pressing your back against his chest like he's curling up into a ball around you. 

so that's what he does— holding you tightly against his chest, laying partially on his side so a part of him presses a part of you into the bed, the other part being held by his strong arms. 

he holds you for what feels like forever, until he feels your shoulders start to quiver and you curl up even closer against him, finally letting go against him. and he keeps holding you, his weight never changing as you silently cry against him. Frank feels as though he might join you, tears of his own starting to prick at his eyes. 

the quiet peace slowly is slowly interrupted by the sun starting to rise, the light slowly but surely starting to try to pierce through the curtains.

he glances over at the clock again— 8:26AM. he blinks slowly, looking down at you. your crying has slowed over the past hour, slowly dying down to occasional sniffles and big yawns. 

a loud growl from your stomach interrupts the peace, growling loud and clear. you shrink more against Frank, as if ashamed at the sound. though he wants to verbally assure you that it's okay, his stomach beats him to it by letting out a growl somehow louder than yours. it manages to pull a small breathy laugh from you against his damp chest. one that by the sound alone causes Frank to smile, a laugh of his own sounding before he even was aware.

you slowly pull away from his chest, giving Frank a silent sign that the compression is no longer needed. he moves off of you, though still keeping you in his arms. one of his large hands comes up to hold your face once more, his thumb gently swiping across your cheek as the other arm lays beneath your neck, his hand stroking the back of your neck and shoulders.

" Frank, " your tired eyes slowly drag up to meet his. a look of painful despair in your eyes that makes Frank's heart clench. " i think i might be broken beyond repair. " your voice is raw and rough.

" hey now, sh shh, don't say that. " Frank frowns, his hand cupping your cheek firmly, but oh so gently. " these feelings will come, " his eyes intensely looking into yours. " but these feelings will also go again. you are not broken, you understand me? " anyone else would've misinterpreted his tone for slightly threatening or fed up, but not you. you know how deeply he feels for people, and how intense he can show those feelings.

"we'll be alright, okay?" he rasps. despite the rasp, his tone is more gentle than ever. you nod against his hand, leaning into his warm hand. " not today, hell— probably not tomorrow or the day after. but one day, you'll tackle these feelings and you'll be equipped with the right things to deal with them, and they won't be as scary and tough anymore. "

he leans in pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. " and until that day i will be there— whenever you need me to— to help you deal with them. no matter what day, or hour. you hear me? " you tiredly nod in response, a small smile on yours lips.

he smiles, a small and gentle smile, but one that symbolically meets his eyes. " now, let's go make some breakfast yeah? else my stomach might start eatin' yours. " he gently pinches your waist, causing you to squirm against him. 

" it's going to get better, i promise honey. not right now, but it will get better. " he mumbles, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before hugging you tightly.

[toasttt11]

months

August 10, 2020

Mary was lying out on the lawn chair in the backyard of their house in Cape Cod. She was enjoying laying out in the sun reading her book with her headphones on as always playing her Taylor Swift playlist.

She’s been in quarantine with her family for the last few months and it was the longest she has ever went without playing in a hockey game.

The quarantine just got lifted a few days ago meaning Will and Ryan immediately started planning for Ryan and his family to come out to the Smith’s house in Cape Cod.

Ryan and the rest of the Leonard’s were getting here this morning.

Mary flipped over so she was now lying on she stomach letting her back getting tanned as she continued reading.

She was so focused on her book and blocking out the world with her headphones she didn’t hear Will’s excited shouts and hugging Ryan.

Ryan let go of Will and looked over his eyes immediately finding Mary. His eyes widened seeing her for the first time in months besides their facetimes but it wasn’t the same.

He thought she couldn’t get even more beautiful but she has, he spared a glance at Will seeing Will saying hi to his family and he walked over to Mary and stood over her making a shadow appear on her book.

Mary furrowed her brows slipping her headphones off and looking up and she froze slightly seeing Ryan, her eyes glanced to his body before quickly looking away with warm cheeks.

Mary quickly hopped up and smiled softly, “Hi Ry.”

“Hi Ellie Belly.” Ryan grinned brightly and opened one of his arms giving her the option to choose if they hug and his smile widened even more when she leaned into his side giving him a small side hug.

Will bounced over throwing an over both of their shoulders not realizing he broke up their side hug, “We’re all back together!” Will beamed squeezing two of his favorite people making Ryan and Mary share a fond smile.

Will immediately dragged Ryan and Mary out to the water and they spent most of the day swimming around together and all three of them yapping because it has been so long.

Will, Ryan and Mary eventually got out of the water once it was getting close to dinner and they all headed into the house.

Grace was chatting in the den with Ryan’s two sisters Brianna and Alyssa and Ryan’s brother John was chatting with both of the Dad’s while both of the Mom’s were in the kitchen together.

Mary headed to her room to take a shower and Will and Ryan headed to their rooms as well.

Mary winced slightly feeling the distinct feeling of the start of her ear hurting. She is careful when she is in any water knowing that can agitate her ear and she uses a lot of drops before and after she heads into the water and sometimes she will use ear plugs.

She took a quick shower and threw on a pair of comfortable shorts and large t-shirt she stole from Will and put more drops in her ear and decided to rest a bit before dinner so her ear might get better and not be another ear infection.

Mary got under the covers in her bed and put on a show on her iPad before grabbing her blue octopus and snuggled with her stuff animal.

Mary has now had her blue octopus from Will for twelve years now since she was two and lost half of her hearing in one ear. When she was little she would drag the stuff animal with her everywhere and it’s something she always cuddles when her ear is in pain.

Will knocked on the door softly and heard a quiet come in and slowly opened the door seemed Mary cuddling with her octopus and knew her ear was bothering her.

He walked over and sat on the bed and gently rested a hand on her arm rubbing her arm softly, “A bad one yet?” Will asked not thinking her ear is bad yet because she stayed outside for so long.

Mary just shook her head softly no.

“Want me to sit with you?” Will offered sweetly making her nod softly and she moved over letting Will sit next to her.

Ryan walked towards Mary’s room a few minutes later after he couldn’t find either of his best friends and had a feeling they would be in her room, he peeked his head in and smiled slightly seeing them in her bed but frowned seeing Mary cuddling her octopus knowing she only does that when her ear hurts.

He knocked on the door softly and they both looked up in unison looking identical, “Can i join?”

Mary softly nodded making him smile and he walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed in sitting down next to Mary making their elbows brush but Mary just leaned closer at the touch.

“What are we watching?” Ryan leaned over whispering his mouth close to her good ear making her take a deep breath.

“Fast and furious.” Will said knowing it is one of Mary’s favorite comfort movies and he scooted down laying his head down on Mary’s thigh looking at the iPad.

Mary moved slightly getting comfortable and rested her head on her Ryan’s shoulder making him smile to himself and his hand started playing with the ends of her hair, something she only allows Ryan to do.

Grace walked up to Mary’s room a hour later when dinner was ready and none of the three came down she peeked into the room and smiled fondly seeing all three of them cuddled up in some way and all fast asleep.

She raised an eyebrow seeing how much Mary was laying on Ryan and cuddling to him and Ryan’s arm was wrapped around Mary.

Grace shook her head softly, Ryan will always be her two siblings favorite person and she is glad they have him and she closed the door letting the three keep sleeping.

[theknittinggoblin]

Pictures, as promised!

And since a few folks asked, the pattern I used is Betty McKnit's 6-Day Star Blanket, and can be found here in text form and here as tutorial videos :) The yarn is 67 Blankets Long Print Cake in the color Bo Kaap.

The trim pattern I used is a modified form of this one, changed for stitch count and to use less yarn. I'll put the version I used under a read more with the math for anyone interested!

EDIT: Read more isn't working, so I'll put it in a separate reblog I guess :/

For the pocket in the middle, I just did the setup rows and the first few repeat rows until it was the size I wanted (ending on a SC row for ease of sewing) then back stitched it in place leaving the gap between two corners as the opening.

Overall I'm so happy with how it turned out!! It's just the right size for a lap blanket and brings some much needed bright colour and whimsy to our space :)

It is time, once again, for yarn chicken

[phantasmatoucan]

I USUALLY LIKE LOOKING AT PLAYTHROUGHS OF SLAY THE PRINCESS [i usually dont buy games bc i didnt have any money or way to play them before when i was little so by now it kind of became an habit of mine to just watch different playthroughs in youtube and also so i can manage my time properly, thats out the window now bc my brother bought me stp for christmas yesterday so lol] BUT SOMETHING THAT ALWAYS MAKES ME, I DONT KNOW IF SAD ITS THE WORD IM LOOKING WORD BUT LIKE MIFFED IS WHEN PEOPLE DESPISE OPPORTUSNIST, LIKE, I GET IT THO, HE CAN BE SLIMY AND FLIP FLOPPING ALL OVER THE PLACE WITH HIS INTENTIONS, HE DOESNT MAKE IT ANY EASIER BY GOING TO THE NARRATORS SIDE WHICH USUALLY BOTHERS NEW PLAYERS BUT I GUESS SINCE I SEE HIM AS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF TLQ AND HIS SURVIVAL [since that he is essentialy how he came to be] AND HOW DUMB HE CAN BE AS WELL [which is really funny] BUT WHAT CAN I DO IM WATCHING A VIDEO AFTER ALL THIS ALSO HAPPENS WITH BROKEN WHICH HE ALSO DOESNT MAKE IT EASIER BY BEING SO DOWN ON THE DUMPS [for good reason he basically came to be because you gave up your power to the princess] AND PEOPLE THINKING HES PATHETIC AND ANNOYING JUST MAKES ME SAD, theyre just little guys they can be a bit silly

[jitters-art]

some much needed hugs for naruto…..

[ ID: 5 different half body digital drawings of naruto hugging other people. first is naruto hugging sasuke from behind. the viewer is facing their backs, and narutos face is turned away. sasuke is holding naruto’s hand over his shoulder. second is iruka hugging academy aged naruto tightly. they both look upset like iruka is comforting naruto. third is naruto and sakura sitting and taking a nap together. naruto leans into sakura and hugs her arms which are wrapped around him. fourth is sai and naruto hugging, naruto with his back to the viewer. sai grips narutos shirt tightly. fifth is a side view of naruto and gaara hugging, narutos face is obscured. the backgrounds are all the same off-white. the one with sakura has a tree that the two are leaning against, and the one with gaara has the outside of sunagakure. the others all have an enlarged copy of the lineart. END ID. ]

[ ID: 5 different half body digital drawings of naruto hugging and being hugged by other people. first is naruto hugging sasuke from behind. the viewer is facing their backs, and narutos face is turned away. sasuke is holding naruto’s hand over his shoulder. sasuke is drawn pale with a scar on his chin, and an industrial and lobe piercing. he wears a blue sweatshirt and black pants. naruto is drawn brown with light freckles and is wearing an oversized beige tshirt and pink shorts. second is iruka hugging academy aged naruto tightly. they both seem upset like iruka is comforting naruto. iruka is drawn brown and wears a light brown longsleeve with striped sleeves, brown jeans and gold dangle earrings. his nails are painted pink. naruto is wearing his goggles and and orange tshirt. third is naruto and sakura sitting and taking a nap together. naruto leans into sakura and hugs her arms which are wrapped around him. sakura leans her head on top of narutos. sakura is drawn blasian with coily hair, a gold septum ring and eyebrow piercing. she wears a pink sweatshirt and brown jeans with designs. naruto wears an orange headband, a blue hoodie and orange sweatpants. fourth is sai and naruto hugging, naruto with his back to the viewer. sai grips narutos shirt tightly. sai is drawn pale with a large mole underneath his eye. he wear a black croptop and sweatpants. naruto wears a pink tshirt and grey jorts. fifth is a side view of naruto and gaara hugging, narutos face is obscured. gaara is drawn tan with super light freckles, multiple silver piercings, a couple moles and a beige sweatshirt with shukakus pattern on on the arms. naruto wears a light green sweatshirt and his nails are painted purple. the backgrounds are all the same off-white. the one with sakura has a tree that the two are leaning against with an open forest behind them, and the one with gaara has the outside of sunagakure. the others all have an enlarged copy of the lineart. END ID. ]

[coralloid]

Some parallels I've noticed between Paris, Texas (1984) and Disco Elysium (2019)

[somerandomcockroach]

@keferon OKAY BUT LISTEN YEAH I would loved if it was just fun ehehehe and sassy flirting with the demon no one sees pfffht, literally summoned a demon just to flirt with, and I guess it could have been going for a long time, just little strips with their funny adventures and then plot can go to the fact that he wants to give him a body and Shockwave would agree or that they just stay the way they are and just hang out like this together (Alo I remember that you wanted to put Ratchet (I keep writing Ratched instead of Ratchet buuuh) and Drift in it as another demon and their summoner thing whghweghgwe but I like how you made two separate stories for them that happen at the same time, okay I am actually PRETTY MUCH invested in this story, I like a lot how it goes and gets tangled and how mixes up with idw ideas and other stuff a lot)

BUT NOW that you changed it that way, you made a few more things that reader might be interested a lot in, like that promise he made and you mentioning that he will regret it, how their relationship progressively develops, plus the fact that Blurr was a frivolous slob gifted with dark magic AND how the tables turn upside dow and he get consequences for what he did in the most unpredictable way for him and how he surely changes in his behaviour, getting more and more concerned about his promise and maybe truly loving someone for the first time in his life and wanting to change something. And then figuring out that that same demon actually was a person before, someone he knew, someone respectable, kind, shiny, absolut sun of a person, who died (I am still on my knees waiting to know how exactly he died...) miserably to the point that he absolutely can't stand his life as a demon and NOT EVEN being able to kill himself!!! And Blurr was a pupil in his school, he saw him, he gifted him an ability to make his magic work for him, gave the freedom to live among everyone to all who was poisoned with this dark magic. OH WAITA HGSDHAG the thing that beastformers can't walk among transformers and the fact that dark spellers also could not, and how these events happen at a close times, OKAY so dark spellers got their kind of freedom thanks to Senator Shockwave (OH MY GOD what if Orion can see Shockwave and will recognise him right away COUGH) BUT I am wondering if beastformers will get some kind of an official declaration or some kind of school to be educated in and I wonder if Deadlock/Drift (I think after leaving he will change his name from the last episode...) will volunteer to be a teacher t be something more, or he will just end up with Ratchet wandering around the world, or maybe there will be a whole damn revolution where all monoformers and beastformers leaded by Drift go against the system, and maybe these events happen at the same time as a Senator Shockwave fighting for the rights of gifted... Okay I'm getting carried a little bit ahsghag excuse me... OH I GOT carried away A LOT I wanted to get back to the point that Blurr, now figuring out the past of Shocwave, dealing with all the events, dealing with what he has done and find a way to free them, at the same time STILL having adventures and fun since I'm sure he can be a good mood lifter to moody Shockwave and even see him in a really good mood since he is... well, not just a demon made of hatred but the wonderful kind of person in his previous life... (okay being carried away but what if Orion might declare the freedom to beastformers (AJHGAJHSDJAH OH MY GOD I IMAGINED JAZZ AS A PANDA HAVING A ROMAN WITH PROWL AND PROWL NOT KNOWING ABOUT IT OKAY SORRY) after seeing what it lead to after Senator Shockwave. And maybe Ratchet will be able to get his sign back freely after revolution will be successful or he will be forever blind just to be free and safe with his husband OKAY LISTEN I think it is obvious that I really like the thing you do....