#( no tinder for him just okcupid )

[theromandaniels]

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THE PLACE I LIVE

The beautiful landscape, perfect for walks in nature, perhaps with a special someone. Ideal if you want some sight-seeing...

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

“Yuuta.” Names have never been Shirayuki’s forte; she struggles with Sarah and Sara, crosses her fingers when she comes across a Siobhan or a Ciaran, and now labors to decipher whether this is a ‘u’ sound or an ‘oo’ sound— gosh, it might even be a ‘uu’ situation, which is a whole other disaster entirely—

“Does he have a last name to go with that?” Obi murmurs, just loud enough for her to catch it. Well, so she hopes. “Or maybe you could just ask him for his number. Skip the whole swiping song-and-dance and just get down to—”

“Could you spell that for me?” she asks, a hair louder than necessary, hoping her smile doesn’t flicker under pressure the way old fluorescents do . “The patient’s name, I mean.”

“Oh! The…the patient’s…” Her well-meaning visitor shuffles, pink flaring up right under the spray of small freckles across his cheeks. It really is just like being back at the old B&B again, trying to smother a laugh as the sweet retriever from down the street keeps bringing back the wrong ball. “Right, of course. You need the patient’s…god, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking…”

“Happens all the time.” She bites back a smile as pink blooms into carnelian red. “We don’t tend to see people at their most put-together here.”

“Haah, right, makes sense.” His tanned hand digs into the tousles mass of his hair, sending it wild. It's a charming look, she has to admit. Makes her wish there were Beggin’ Strips for people too— he looks like he could use a treat. “Just feels a little stupid, that’s all. Not like you could look me up. In a patient registry, I mean.”

“You got a Tinder, though?” Obi crosses an knobby ankle over his knee, pant leg riding up enough to show the chili peppers on his socks. “OkCupid? Plenty of Fish?”

"Uh." The man blinks, first at him, then at her, as if she might confirm that this line of questioning is somehow part of the official visitor registration process. It's not. “Y-yes?”

"Ooh?" Obi pitches forward, fingers poised over the app store. “Which—?”

“Obi.”

“What?” Having reached the end of his leash, her wayward hound finally comes to heel. With a tug of his coat, he slouches back, not a hint of contrition lingering in that smirk of his. “I was just wondering.”

She lets her glare do the heavy lifting as she repeats, “What was the name again?”

“Ah, my dad’s? Katsu. Katsu Baudin.” The man coughs, clearing his throat. “And I’m, uh, his son. Yuuta.”

“We know,” Obi chirps helpfully as she puts in her login. It shouldn’t work— IT’s supposed to update the registry at midnight, and she’s been legally off payroll for three days— but the system only takes a long, hard think and rolls over, displaying patient information with the same enthusiasm as a dog wagging its tail. “With two ‘u’s?”

“Uh…”

Her visitor— Yuuta— glances at her, but she’s too busy tallying the number of security and privacy regulations violated to give him much more than, “Katsu Baudin, Room 7760.”

There should be some palpable relief on the air, or at least the barest whiff of gratitude, but instead their wayward visitor shuffles awkwardly behind the counter, not flushed but— strained, maybe. “Um, sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain or anything, but do you think—?”

“Two floors down.” Wistal is hardly as labyrinthine as Wirant— built into a hill, each wing designed to be the magmum opus of architects thirty years apart, resulting in atria so beautiful they graced the covers of Architectural Digests and hallways so nonsensical as to be be hostile to human life, with entrances on every floor between the first and the fourth besides the third— but with each level laid out exactly like the last, it’s easy to get turned around. “If you go straight out from the elevators, take your second right. 7760 should be down that hall on your left.”

“Ahh, right, thanks. That’s…a huge help.” He hesitates, gaze fixed down the hall as if it were a thousand yards instead of five. His fingers fingers drum nervously on the counter top. “I don’t want to— I mean, it’s just—”

He hangs his head, dark eyes huge and pleading as they peer up from under that fluffy flop of hair, as helpless as a dog that’s found a door it can’t nose open. “I suck at directions.”

It takes every last ounce of her self control to keep only the corners of her mouth twitching. “That’s no problem at all. Just let me call down to their desk and give them the heads up that you're coming. Then you can go there and have someone take you right to the room.”

“Oh!” His head snaps up, eyes so wide she can nearly see a waggling tail behind him. “You can do that? Er, I mean…I wouldn’t want to put you out…?”

In Wilant there would have been some grumbling, some pointed questions about just how many times his parents had dropped him on his head as a child if he couldn’t go two floors down and take a turn without getting it all twisted, but here—

Shirayuki glances across the hall, catching a flash of pale hair above a designer button-down, of a profile that has graced more covers of GQ than she’s got fingers on one hand. As exceptional as Izana is, she doubts that’s even the most impressive statistics on the floor. There’s a husband just around the corner she’s pretty sure has a collection of Super Bowl rings. Recent ones, considering all the rubbernecking outside their door.

“They’re used to worse,” Obi offers, so helpful as he scrolls. “A little hand holding isn’t going to break the scale.”

Yuuta blinks down at him. “Er, all right. If you’re sure.”

“Please,” he scoffs, slouching further into the ergonomic plastic. “Unless you’re bringing your mistress to watch your wife go through labor, no one's even going to—”

“Just a minute!” Shirayuki smiles as she picks up the phone, refusing to acknowledge anything over her shoulder. “Let me see what I can do.”

*

There may be no phone trees or music on internal lines, but there’s still plenty of waiting, especially with no voicemail for stale calls to be shunted to. Still, it’s only a few minutes before someone picks up— a nurse fresh from shift change, happy to take of ‘that old charmer’s baby.’ Watching Yuuta’s back disappear into the elevator makes a nice ending to an unplanned long night, and Shirayuki—

“What, you aren’t going to go with him?” Obi leans back in his chair, straining the ergonomic claims of those cushions. “Make sure the prodigal son makes it back home? Maybe hold his hand a little?”

“I think he’ll manage just fine.” She blows out her cheeks as she sits, letting her mouth settle into her sternest frown. “Now, I trust you deleted that thing?”

“Me? No. I’ve swiped right on three real studs already. And let me just say” —he presses a hand to his chest, the silk of his tie rumpling under the pressure— “I chose better for you than you choose for yourself.”

“Obi!” It’s a strangled noise, one she just barely keeps to quiet-hours guidelines. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in—!”

“Trust me, Miss,” he soothes, entirely too smug. “You’ll be interested in these guys. Or at least their traps.”

“I thought we agreed that—”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” His eyebrows may twitch up to angelic heights, but his attempts at innocence are ruined by the downright sly curl his mouth takes. “You said I should, and I declined to take your advice.”

All at once, the fight seeps out of her, leaving only the weariest sigh in its wake. “Obi…”

“Aww, come on, now, Miss. No need to go borrowing trouble yet. It's not like you've matched.” His lips twitch. “Yet. But let’s be real, who could say no to a knock-out like y—?”

“You are going to delete that,” she informs him with all the authority of a limp dish rag. “Right now. While I can watch.”

“Aw, Miss,” he whines, using only the most pitiful pitches. “I’m just helping.”

Shirayuki stares. “You think this is helping?”

“Of course.” His shoulders twitch, halfway between a shrug and a shield. “What better way to recover from a bad break up then having someone blow out your—?”

“Ah, no!” Her hand flies up, the flimsiest barrier between them. “Don’t— don’t finish that thought.”

“But, Miss—”

“I appreciate your…consideration,” she informs him, gracious. “Really, I do. But I think that maybe you and I process this sort of thing differently. Very…very differently.”

“I didn’t say you had to jump right into bed.” Though he sounds dubious on that order of operations. “But you could let someone take you out, treat you right. And then maybe on date three, you—”

“Three?” It’d taken almost six months for her to even kiss Zen, let alone even think about the sort of activities that might require the removal of clothes. And by then, it took them three months of planning to even get them in the same room. “Do people really…?”

“You know how it is, Miss.” Obi’s sprawled across the chair, lounging in a way its ergonomic bullet points were never supposed to accommodate, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes settle on her. “People are busy nowadays. Not much time to take it slow.”

“I have time.”

Shirayuki nearly jolts straight out of her chair. “Ryuu?”

*

(Shirayuki’s not given to believe in the supernatural— not ghosts, not ESP, not sixth senses that seem to only work in hindsight— but she’ll give Yuzuri this: her ability to locate her anywhere in this rabbit warren of hallways is downright occult.

“Have I got the goss for you, girl,” she squeals, stealing a baby carrot out of her lunch box as she slips into the empty seat beside her. It’s all empty seats in the break room right now, but Yuzuri rolls even closer, voice pitched low. “Word on the street is that Ryuu’s got something going on with the new intern.”

“In Imaging?” It’s hard to picture her— she’s a shy thing, always disappearing behind a white coat as a cart turns a corner, just a blonde ponytail above pink scrubs. “I guess they’re around the same age.”

“Same age,” Yuzuri scoffs, gnawing on her ill-gotten gains. “Is that what you think people care about? The same age? No, this girl is like…his type.”

That doesn’t sound quite right, not to her ears. “I don’t really think Ryuu has—”

“Of course he does. Everyone has a type, Shirayuki, even you.” Her voice drops to mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “Even if you don’t realize it.”

“I just mean that Ryuu hasn’t shown much interest in…anything like that.” Romance, she means. But if she says it, Yuzuri will probably counter with something about sex, and quite honestly, she’s not sure if she can handle Ryuu and... and that idea in the same sentence. “I’m not really sure he wants to, either.”

“Yeah, yeah, normally I’d agree with you,” Yuzuri says with a dismissive wave. “But this girl is like, smart. And super cute. Like freckles everywhere! And her laugh— seriously, you have to hear it. He like, smiled and stuff.”

Well, the smile is a start. “Is that what his type is? Smart and cute? Freckles?”

“I mean, basically right?” Her hand flop open into something between a slouch and a shrug. “That’s what you’re like.”

It’s a good thing there’s no silverware involved in eating hummus, otherwise it would have clattered to the floor. It’s sad enough that she’ll have to toss out this baby carrot casualty. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Yuzuri presses on, as if she didn’t just drop a detail more devastating than an atom bomb. “It’s not about you. It’s just that every guy wants to fuck their mom or whatever. Freudian stuff.”

Shirayuki has opinions on Freud— capital ‘O’ Opinions, as Obi likes to call them, along with, the kind that don’t get us asked back to the country’s finest conferences— but all she can manage is, “I think I’m more like a sister than a mother.”

Yuzuri shrugs. “Same difference.”)

*

“Ryuu.” Her hand slaps to her chest, as if that might keep her heart beneath it better than own her ribcage. Which might be true, from how hard its pounding to get out. Shirayuki can hardly blame it. “What are you…? Ah, I mean, were you…?”

It’s still strange to have to look up to meet his eyes, to see the way his face furrows with the beginnings of annoyance. “It’s now or not until after four. Should I come back?”

“Wha— oh, the ultrasound.” Now that she’s on her feet, she can see the cart at his side, loaded up with one of the mobile units he must have requisitioned from Imaging. “Are you doing it?”

“I said I would.”

There’s no humble shrug to go with his words, no inflection to imply emotion, just a simple recitation of the facts. “Well, yes, but I thought you would have one of the techs on shift come up and—”

“I had time.” His shoulders settle into stern angles as his chin lifts, as imperious as any MD. “Is there a problem with that?”

There’s a half dozen, starting and ending with how he’s the Attending today; someone who has a thousand more pressing responsibilities than doing some investigative ultrasound for her patient. But as much as she might try, the words won’t stick together in her mouth, won’t let her make anything but the most unconvincing sputter. “N-no, it’s only—”

“Aw, come on, big guy.” Obi saunters up to the counter, elbow brushing her shoulder as he furls himself up for a lean. It’s nice; steadying. “You know there’s no one else Miss would trust to do this more than you. But don’t big shots like you have busy schedules? I wouldn’t think you’d have the time to come help little old us.”

A stubborn red that clings to the tips of his ears. “As I said, I do. Is it in that room, there?”

His head bobs toward the door. There’s no one behind the window now, just a straight view from hall to window, blinds strung tight across the glass.

“Yes, 9060.” He’s already wheeling the cart towards it when she adds, “Izana should be with her, too.”

The cart squeals to a stop.

“Oh.” His knuckles blanch so white she can see bone where they grip the handle. “Then maybe I should come back. Later. After…”

He doesn’t finish the thought. Shirayuki frowns. “I don’t see why. Is there something wrong with—?”

“Oh, I get it.” Obi’s smirk stretches long into a leer as he leans toward her, voice pitched to be heard as he whispers, “I think he’s afraid of Her Majesty. Intimidated by laying hands on America’s Sweetheart. Little too famous for his blood, I—”

“I didn’t say that,” Ryuu grumbles, sullen. “I’m not laying hands on her anyway. It’s only the probe that will—”

“So it’s His Majesty then,” Obi amends, so considerate. It’s a struggle to keep her mouth from twitching, giggles straining behind her teeth. “Can’t say I blame you for that one, little guy. That guy makes me break out into a cold sweat.”

“I’m not afraid of Izana Wisteria.” The name snaps between his teeth, cold. “I just thought that if she has a visitor, she might not want to be interrupt—”

“You know, Miss.” It’s hard to call something as languid as Obi’s lounging aggressive, but that’s what it is— weaponized slinkiness, the way a cat weaves through legs at dinnertime. “If Ryuu thinks that this is too rich for his blood, you should really just get someone else to—”

“I’m doing it.” The cart squeals as it angles toward the door, wheels grinding with the same single-minded focus as Ryuu’s teeth. “I— I’m already going!”

He doesn’t so much march as storm over, shoulders hiked like pickets by his ears as he knocks at the door. “Excuse me,” he says, swinging it open. “Name and birth date, please.”

It shuts before she can hear Haki’s answer.

*

“Boo.” Obi doesn’t so much sit as he does slump, a puppet with all his strings cut. “He coulda kept that door open a smidge longer. I've heard that America’s Sweetheart fudged the date on her birth certificate to get that role in Mean Girls.”

“I doubt that.” Shirayuki spares him the flattest stare, fingers striking the keys with a pointed power as she logs out from the system. “Her family’s a big deal, aren’t they? Hollywood Royalty, isn’t that what Yuzuri called it?”

“Miss.” His shoulders shake along with his head. “Only you could ask if the Arleons were a big deal.”

Years ago she might have blushed, might have stammered out excuses about the how cable didn’t run out that far until she was in college, and the combination post office/movie theater in town only ran movies two years out of date, but now— now she simply says, “That proves my point, doesn’t it? There were probably newspaper articles about it. An entertainment Weekly birth announcement? Something. It can’t be much of a mystery.”

“There was also some website that counted down to her eighteenth birthday.” He shrugs, casual, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard. Then again, knowing Obi, it probably doesn’t even make the top thirty. “But you know, once you get a thing like that in your head…”

He lets his grin do the rest of the talking. Like all of his outrageous behavior, she simply ignores.

“Thank you for that, by the way.” One of his narrow brows hikes up toward his hairline, and she clarifies, “With Ryuu. You’ve always known how to handle him better than I do.”

“You do just fine.” The seat creaks as he tucks his thigh against its arm, elbow lazily hooking over his knee. “He just needs a little heat to get him into the kitchen sometimes. And you’re not someone who’s comfortable with turning it up. Especially when it comes to Ryuu.”

Shirayuki doubts her interns would agree with that particular assessment, but she simply says, “Thank you anyway. If you hadn’t been here, I think we really would have been waiting until four.”

Obi hums. “Oh, I’m not sure about that, Miss. Seems like you handled it just fine the other day.”

She blinks. “The other day?”

“You know.” His shoulders twitch, the laziest suggestion of a shrug. “Ms. Luteal Cyst?”

*

(The cart wheels catch on the threshold, casters making a nasty ka-crack as they struggle over the metal strip. The noise alone has got her grimacing, but when she sees the close-cropped dark hair, so like Obi’s now that all the curls have been left on the barber shop floor, her mouth pulls thinner still.

“Ryuu.” He’s supposed to be on days this week— at least according to the schedule posted up in the break room— but yet he’s here, wincing as the last wheel wails across the floor. Ah, and he’s gotten the squeaky cart. “I didn’t think you’d be…?”

In, she wants to say, but doing the tech’s job keeps trying to elbow its way out at the same time, and instead the question just hangs, awkward.

“Oh, Shirayuki.” He blinks, first at her, then as he leans out the door, as if—

“This is the right room!” she assures him, a laugh startling out of here. “It’s just a slow shift, so I though I might keep my friend here company while she waited.”

“Oh.” The girl sinks further into her pillows as he stares, withering under the stern furrow of his brows. Shirayuki’s half-tempted to tell her that it’s not personal, that without regular reminders, Ryuu’s face defaults to forbidding. “The gel’s going to be cold.”

“I-I don’t care.” She lifts her chin, defiant; a challenge if he means to make it one. “Anything’s fine as along as my baby’s okay.”

Ryuu shoots her a wary glance across the bed— don’t let this girl have emotions on me, it says, loud and clear— before he turns back to the computer, fingers clacking pointedly across the keys. That leaves her to help the girl lift up her johnny, rearranging blankets and drop cloth so her legs and clothes are covered, terrible mesh underwear and all.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” The words might be for Ryuu, but Shirayuki keeps smiling down at her patient, trying to keep her in the conversation. “Usually we don’t have doctors doing untrasound, but Dr Goldregen sometimes helps out when there’s a bit of a scheduling back up—”

“Or when the tech no-shows.”

Her smile stiffens. “O-or that.”)

*

“Ah…” Shirayuki shakes her head. “That didn’t have anything to do with me. Mihaya was late for shift change—”

“Must be nice to have a wing of a hospital named after your family,” Obi muses, head tilted over the back of the chair. “Then you can just waltz into work at any old time, and everyone just says ‘thank you for your time.’”

“I don’t think anyone says that to him,” she snorts. “And he does a passable job when he’s here, so—”

“So no one can fire him.”

Shirayuki struggles against a smile. “So no one can fire him. Ryuu just got here early for shift change and saw there had been a request pending for over an hour. It had more to do with being efficient than helping me.”

Obi hums, unconvinced. “I think you underestimate just how much that kid likes to please you. Maybe he didn’t know it was your patient or whatever, but I bet he showed off once he knew you were there. Probably had good bedside manner and everything.”

*

(The girl yips at the first touch of gel on her stomach, but Ryuu doesn’t even flinch, already pressing the probe down to spread it around. “It’s cold!”

He sends her a sidelong look. “I did warn you.”)

*

“Not…measurably.” It’s effort to keep her tone even. “Ryuu respects my opinion, but he’s really not the sort of person to give special treatment just because—”

“I’m done.”

“Ryuu!” Zen used to joke about putting a bell on Obi— or at least he did, before Obi sent him an Amazon link to a few human-sized collars— but Shirayuki is beginning to wonder if they might need to find one for Ryuu. Last thing they need is for him to startle someone into coding. “A-already?”

He nods. “One sac.”

Shirayuki frowns. That’s hardly what she expected. “Are you sure? Sometimes it’s tricky to see if—”

“I checked for a posterior placenta too.” His shoulders twitch, the barest shrug. “Sometimes hyperemesis gravidium is just hyperemesis gravidium.”

“I guess.” There’s just something unsatisfying about saying it’s hormones; something that feels dismissive rather than diagnostic. “I just could have sworn…”

“What I said before.” Ryuu clears his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than right here, standing in front of the nurse’s desk. “About not doing it again.”

“I know, I know.” She sighs, waving a hand. “It was already kind of you to do it this time— and personally too. I won’t ask again.”

“No, that’s not…” His lips press tight, a white line cutting across his face. “I mean, I’ll do it, if you really need it.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“In a few weeks,” he tells her, stern, as if she might turn around and tell him to go back in there. “There’s things that might not show up now. Rare things. But…things.”

“That’s really kind of you, Ryuu.” For anyone else, she might reach out— pat their shoulder, shake their hand— but for him, she just smiles. But the way he straightens, it’s enough. “But I’d hate to bother you after—”

“It’s not a bother. If you think something’s wrong, I believe you.” It’s been ages since he was the boy genius, a teenager that trembled when he walked onto the floor. But there’s shades of it now in the way he looks at her, gratitude and trust and affection all tangled up into something that makes it hard to look away from his too-blue eyes. “Garrack always told me that you have good intuition. My own experience agrees. It would be foolish to deny that based on something so subjective as statistics.”

It must be a little too earnest even for him, since he shakes himself, quickly adding, “I have other things to do today. Goodbye.”

He rolls off, squeaky cart wheel wailing, and all she can do is stare at his back.

Obi snorts. “No special treatment, huh?”

She’s not sure how to answer, but she’s saved from having to figure it out when Obi’s phone blings obnoxiously. “What’s that?”

He glances down at the screen, mouth unfurling into a terribly devious grin.

“Why look at that, Miss,” he drawls. “Looks like we got a match.”

[cakeandbabble]

Dating While Black

ENG : Tinder, Bumble, OKcupid, and so on. So many dating sites and apps where you meet everyone for any type of relationship… And yet, I really have the impression that filtering is done from the moment you are a black woman . I don't want to believe that we as black women are full of gender stereotypes. No. I just think that, having experienced it, the white men in these dating apps do not tolerate the slightest claim from a black woman. We don't have the right to want a serious relationship, let alone say it loud and clear. We do not have the right to protect ourselves by avoiding going through the "sex" box too quickly. We simply don't have the right to have dignity. I sincerely believe that a solution must be found for me. That of doing communitarianism: that is to say, to only meet black men or men of African origin. My last Tinder date with a white man: a relationship that lasted almost 2 months. Everything was there: cinema, restaurant, drink on the terrace, tender kisses, promise of romantic trips. And as soon as I mentioned the subject of a serious relationship before going to see a movie at his house: I "cooled him down". And since, radio silence, no more messages on WhatsApp or others. Completely evaporated. I can't help but think that if I had been white, of European descent, none of this would have happened. The fact of associating this with the racial question, is not an excuse that I seek because a white man dumped me. It is quite simply the fruit of observation and experiences that I have had for almost 15 years of love life. Of all the white men I've had a crush with, almost none have wanted to pursue a serious relationship that includes: mutual introduction to parents, mutual introduction to friends, romantic trips, etc. All my serious romantic relationships have been with men of African descent only. Because there was more respect, more compassion, more love, more points in common, and above all the fact of belonging to the same continent: Africa. So I made the decision to close my Tinder account, and OKCupid since anyway, they are not made for serious meetings and even less, to embody a mixed couple with a white man. In conclusion, I thank this experience because it allowed me to realize my black condition and the fact that French society as we live it, is beautiful and well represented in these dating apps.

FR : Tinder, Bumble, OKcupid, et j'en passe. Autant de sites et apps de rencontres où l'on rencontre tout le monde pour tout type de relation... Et pourtant, j'ai réellement l'impression qu'un filtrage est fait dès le moment où l'on est une femme noire. Je ne veux pas croire que nous, en tant que femmes noires, sommes pleine de stéréotypes à connotation sexuelle. Non. Je pense simplement que, pour en avoir fait l'expérience, les hommes blancs de ces apps de rencontres ne tolèrent pas la moindre erreur venant d'une femme noire. Nous n'avons pas le droit de vouloir une relation sérieuse, et encore moins de le dire haut et fort. Nous n'avons pas le droit de nous préserver en évitant de passer par la case "sexe" trop rapidement. Nous n'avons pas le droit d'avoir une dignité, tout simplement. Je pense sincèrement qu'une solution doit être trouvée pour moi. Celle de faire du communautarisme : c'est à dire, de ne faire des rencontres qu'avec des hommes noirs ou ayant une origine africaine.

Mon dernier date Tinder avec un homme blanc : une relation qui a duré près de 2 mois. Tout y était : ciné, restaurant, verre en terrasse, tendres baisers, promesse de voyages en amoureux. Et dès que j'ai évoqué le sujet de la relation sérieuse avant d'aller passer voir un film chez lui : je l'ai "bien refroidi". Et depuis, silence radio, plus de messages sur WhatsApp ou autres. Complètement évaporé.

Je ne peux m'empêcher de penser que si j'avais été blanche, d'origine européenne, rien de cela ne serait arrivé. Le fait d'associer cela à la question raciale, n'est pas un prétexte que je cherche car un homme blanc m'a largué. C'est tout simplement le fruit d'observation et d'expériences que j'ai fait depuis près de 15 ans de vie amoureuse. Sur tous les hommes blancs avec lesquels j'ai eu une amourette, presqu'aucuns n'a voulu poursuivre vers une relation sérieuse qui inclut : présentation mutuelle aux parents, présentation mutuelle aux ami(e)s, voyages en amoureux, etc. Toutes mes relations amoureuses sérieuses se sont déroulées avec des hommes d'origine africaine seulement. Car il y avait plus de respect, plus de compassion, plus d'amour, plus de points en communs, et surtout le fait d'appartenir au même continent : l'Afrique.

J'ai donc pris la décision de fermer mon compte Tinder, et OKCupid puisque de toute façon, ils ne sont pas faits pour des rencontres sérieuses et encore moins, pour incarner un couple mixe avec un homme blanc.

En conclusion, je remercie cette expérience car elle m'a permis de me rendre compte de ma condition noire et du fait que la société française telle que nous la vivons, est belle et bien représentée dans ces apps de rencontres.

[grapeflavoredhippo]

It's hard to let go

Do people still use Tumblr anymore. To the three people that still stuck around, thanks. I figured I'd just use this time to vent. To write down my feelings. To write down how I'm feeling because maybe writing it out will help me heal. Or, it just might embarrass myself putting everything out there to a bunch of strangers. Either way, here we go.

I want to start off my saying I am not, by any means, the prettiest person in the world. I was consistently bullied for the way I looked. It made my self confidence and self esteem so low that I hated myself and it still carried over to my adult life. I was always convinced that no one would love me and I would die alone. I see my friends around me enter relationships. Get married. Have kids. They always preceived to be happy and I wanted that. I wanted that so badly.

So, I bit the bullet and finally put myself out there. I signed up for every dating site you could think of. Tinder. OkCupid. Hinge. Her. Whatever one I could find and try to find love. It all started when I matched with someone on Tinder. I know that site is notorious for hook ups but to me, it was just another site. To actually meet someone who wanted me. Who showed me any sort of attention was something new. Something exciting and I liked how it made me feel. So, we ended up hooking up. We did things I never saw myself doing, not in a million years, and I had finally lost my virginity. Come to find out that the only reason they swiped on me was because I was fuckable. Nothing more. Nothing less. I took that comment and ran with it. I ended up in a fwb situation with someone else and I reflected on that and came to realize, that wasn't what I wanted. I hated how he would never talk to me. How he only reached out when it was convenient for him. So, I ended that. It hurt. Silly to say because I actually did kinda like him. But then, I met him.

I met someone I actually thought I can see myself in a relationship with. He was sweet. He was kind. We shared the same interests. He was so easy to talk to. We would text everyday and the conversations were never stale. He would leave me cute voice memos. Pictures. Anything. I always looked forward to his texts and it always made my day better.

We finally went on our first date. It felt like I was reconnecting with an old friend. It was like we would pick our conversations right back up where we left them through text. Then we went on another date. Then another and another. I never felt like I was being pressured to do something I wasn't comfortable with. Before I could even leave the parking lot on our first date, he texted me how sweet I was and how he couldn't wait to see me again.

So when it came to having sex, it only felt natural when it happened. It felt right. We waited until the third date which I appreciated. I truly felt like this was going to go in the right direction. Like something good was actually happening for once in my life. I waited. I waited to ask him for the right time to be my boyfriend. He felt the same way and said yes. But that-that's when he started to get weird and things went downhill from there.

Everytime I tried to make plans for a date night, he never answered my texts. I wouldn't hear from him for days. And everytime we would hang out, it would be the same. I would go to his house, watch anime, cuddle and fuck. Don't get me wrong, I like a nice night in but that's not what I wanted to do all the time.

This was the moment I should have known something was off. He invited me over after work to his house. I drove down to his house and knocked on the door. No answer. I called. I texted. I messaged him on discord and still no answer. I even checked to see if the door was unlocked so I could just walk in, cause he was expecting me, but it was locked. I waited and waited and then, I gave up and went home. Something in my gut told me I should have stayed. I should have waited. I had a feeling, something bad. What if I waited and someone else walked out that door and that was the reason he ignored my messages. We were still "offical" at that point and I didn't want to think something like that would happen.

The next day, he texted me apologizing for leaving me outside. That he fell asleep and felt shitty for what he did. I forgave him. He started ghosting me more after that. Flaking on every plan that we made. I would text him to confirm our plans the night before. The day of and still never heard from him. And eventually, he told me what was going on in his life. He lost his job. His dad almost died in an accident. He was depressed. He kicked himself for not communicating this, that it was out of character for him. I understand you're going through all this but I was left in the dark. I thought I did something wrong. And i was feeling guilty and hurt.

Eventually, we talked things over and he said he wasn't sure he was ready to be in a relationship and should just be friends if I wanted that. I didn't listen to anyone. They all told me you don't need someone like that in your life, let alone, as a friend. But i didn't listen. I'm someone who will give people second chances. And always hung up on the what-ifs. So, I wanted to make this work out.

All of a sudden, we started talking daily again now that I said we should just be friends. We got together one day and I asked him if even wanted to be in a relationship with me. He said yes but with everything that went on, he didn't want me around for that. This is where his real intentions were clear at that point. He asked if I wanted to be "just friends." And I knew what he meant by that but I needed to hear it from him directly. I said yes, just friends. Why? Did you mean like friends with benefits and he said what else would that mean? My heart was crushed. That was not what I wanted. That was something I couldn't do, especially with him since I truly did have feelings for him. If that's what he wanted all along, he should have been upfront about it and I wouldn't have felt like I wasted my time with this whole thing.

Well, we hung out more afterwards. Things happened and he said he wanted to start over. I said if you are being serious about that, then I would be more than happy to work it out. He said yes but I'm realizing, he was just saying things I wanted to hear. I had some car problems and was out of a car. We made plans to hang out and he said he's be willing to come by me since I always go to him. I had it all planed out. It would have been cute if he picked me up from work, got something to eat and then head back to my place. But, yet again, he ghosted me day of. And I gave up.

A month went by and it was dead air. Not a single text from him. Never did he reach out even to say hi. At that point, I should have gotten the hint. I should have moved on. But he was always on my mind. So, drunk me reached out to him. Saying how I hope he was well, that I still think about him and that I miss him. I thought he blocked my number at that point but I was wrong. He answered my text. It would have been easier if he said nothing at all. He mentioned that he missed me too and that he couldn't be platonic friends because he was still attracted to me. Then what went wrong? He thought I didn't want a romantic relationship but he was dead wrong. That was my intent this entire time. He then dropped the bomb and mentioned he was involved with someone and that's when my heart shattered. It made me think did he have a girlfriend this entire time and I was just the chick he came to when he wanted a quick fuck. Was he talking to this person while he was seeing me and that's why he kept on ghosting me?

Apparently, I have a thing for torturing myself because after that, we hung out again. We talked. We watched anime. We got lunch and we hit up the local smoke shop. The thing is, I enjoy hanging out with him. I enjoy his time. His company. And that is why I can't stay away. I was holding onto something that wasn't there anymore. He ghosted again and now, I'm done.

It sucks. It hurts. I'm still not over it and I cry all the time. Even though we talked so many times, it still feels like there is no closure. But when I think about it, he wasn't good to me. I'm trying to move on, to talk to other people, but I'm just not feeling it. I think my problem is that I'm trying to replace this person. I need to take a step back and reflect. And if there someone out there for me, they will appear when I least expect it. I'll take this experience as a life lesson and grow from it.

[trabpu-kcip]

It is extremely rare that I come across anyone on dating apps that I find attractive and intriguing and seems like a good match. And I mean really rare. I have swiped through everyone in my city within a 100km radius several times before and not been interested in anyone (and I'm not living in the middle of nowhere, I'm living in the biggest city in this country). The other day I found a guy on okcupid. His photos were pretty low res and poorly lit, but he still kinda looked like my type. Then I read his profile and it intrigued me. His location was set to Ireland but he explained at the top of the profile to ignore his location as he sets it to different countries around the world so he can talk to people from other countries. This intrigues me because I, too, would like to talk to people from other countries. If I really found someone attractive and a good match I think I would be willing to try a long distance relationship, even. So anyway, his real location, his profile stated, was "NJ". Which I assume is New Jersey. Which also intrigues me. One time on plenty of fish many years ago I was just like ugh I'm sick of local guys, I'm not into any of them, I want to talk to some people from other countries, I think I'll set my location to another country. And I picked my location as New Jersey, USA. So that's a cute little coincidence right there. He also intrigues me because he is a wanna be writer. Essentially, he just reminds me of my celeb crush, which is David X Cohen, who is a writer, from New Jersey, also this guy was also a cancer star sign, same as DXC. And kinda a same-ish type, looks wise. Which is my type. And now I can't stop thinking about this dude. But Okc is so shitty to use. I sent him a message, which is called an "Intro" and intros are so fucking stupid, you don't get any notification when someone sends you one. You just have to swipe through profiles, Tinder style, and if someone has sent an Intro to you, there will be a little note there on the profile that the person has messaged you, but these are so hard to even notice when you're swiping quickly through profiles. I'm probably never going to hear from this guy. Sigh. If it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. But this is annoying.

[nathank77]

4/5/24

4:29 a.m Edited/Added to 5:09 a.m

"I'm into nerds shy guys."

First off I swipe right on everyone on okcupid. Fucking everyone. It's like having okcupid premium.... and I can just unmatch. I'm only on okcupid, and Taimi. I am also on FB dating on two of my FBs..... that's one of the only other reasons I use fb except for Elise. Although I don't swipe on anyone. Women run the dating world. If someone likes me I either match or left swipe. On taimi I do nothing. Queer people are ugly basically. And the pool is small. I basically only swipe when I'm really bored or lonely. There is a reason I'm going to a Meet Up event... I mean Southbury Tango to start... and for a very specific reason to learn to dance and maybe just Maybe the girl of my dreams will show up... but after that I'm just going to try free events unless the tango wows me or I see someone I like and they give me the eyes... although no one gives me the eyes lol

I don't use other sites. Why?

No one on Tinder swipes right on me. No one on Hinge swipes right on me. No one on Bumble Date or friends swipe right on me. It's just OkStupid, taimi and FB dating. No one swipes right on me on FB Dating either. Other than Reilly.. YIKES A NERD. I MEAN BITCH LOOK AT MY PROFILE PICTURE BIG DORKY NERDY GLASSES. Anyways.....

I'm not interested at all in this Woman... but she's into NERDS. Cause I'm a fucking NERD. That's why girls don't like me.

I can't believe someone had that written and swiped right on me.... I mean I thought I was being dramatic... but I am a nerd appearance wise bc of my glasses.... I guess... and I like video games and my personality is nerdy..

Maybe some women look at my profile and go to my gaming channel and go holy NERD. Maybe I should take it off okcupid. I thought I was proving I'm me and maybe someone would find me charming...

Anyways there you go:

NERD that's the fucked part. I'm actually right. I'm labeled a nerd... I guess I'm some people's type but not really...

Going back to my last post about my glasses. Maybe it's time to return what I can and throw out the rest and stop being labeled..

I can't fucking believe I'm not being dramatic. I actually am labeled a nerd..

If i take my glasses off and show my gauges Maybe I'll somewhat lose the label.... I mean my personality is never going to change.

I got to lose the glasses..

My mother thought my dad was a nerd. He used to try to talk to her at his job when she went there. She said he had these dorky glasses. I'm sure they were basic wire frames... either way, he kept trying, she kept ignoring him. Then she saw him at a bar. He asked to buy her a drink. She left. He followed her to another bar I believe... and he asked again. She agreed. She was annoyed by the nerd following her bc of his dorky glasses. Then he asked her to dance. She agreed but she asked him to take off his glasses... and he took them off and never put them back on again. My dad didn't wear them the whole time I was growing up until they got divorced... she said she didn't want him to wear glasses.... he started wearing them again with my step mother. Cause she wasn't stupid.. either way, good thing my dad took them off otherwise I wouldn't have existed. She was like once he took them off and I could see into his eyes I fell in love with him on that dance floor and then he took me home. I cheated on my husband Mike and I was pregnant within the first or second time with you.

And now I can see it.... girls actually think guys with glasses are nerdy and if they find nerds attractive that's the only way I'll find a girl...They don't want to date a guy with glasses.

I very well may return all of them and throw out my Beau. Fuck this. I don't need to see other than in a dark car and I'll only wear them discreetly. In a dark car. And no one will ever see me like this again.

Girls don't want frames and lenses in the way. They want to see your eyes. As Reilly put it YIKES. And to this girl appearantly nerdy guys are her thing. She ain't my thing that's for sure...

I guess I need tattoos. And to throw away the glasses. Then I'll be edgy.. I already have the body.... I have a good face. Glasses are labeling me and keeping women away from me.

Idk if Elise is leaving Brendan idk anything. She's the only girl I care about but I've got to assume she's staying with Brendan...

Everyone else I've talked to doesn't like men in dorky glasses.

I mean my mother has told me that story so many times and I remember thinking how stupid it was that she didn't want to give him a chance bc of his glasses and him taking them off made all the difference. I remember thinking that as a child...

But now I'm like maybe there is something to it. No girl wants frames touching her nose when she kisses you.

[akaraboonline]

When You Want A Relationship But Hate Dating, Here Are 10 Things That Happen

Healthy long-term relationships do not grow on trees; they are a work in progress that must begin somewhere. Typically, this occurs with the first date, followed by the second, and so on. Doesn't that sound like a pain in the buttocks? It's supposed to be enjoyable, but when you just want to be in a relationship, it's the polar opposite. Here's what happens When You Want A Relationship But Hate Dating, Here Are 10 Things That Happen You make online dating profiles, then forget they exist. You begin with good intentions, intending to put yourself out there and do the online dating thing like everyone else. But after the initial rush of messages — which are mostly garbage, anyway — you return to your single life as if you never signed up for OKCupid (or Tinder). You cancel first dates a lot. You know you have to go on dates if you want to meet someone with whom you want to be in a relationship. But the fact remains that you despise going on dates, especially first dates, and have used any excuse to avoid them. You have extreme first date anxiety. Going on a date isn't your idea of fun. If you don't cancel, you'll be so nervous in the hours leading up to it that you won't be able to concentrate on anything else. Then, when you're on the date, you're just counting down the seconds until you can go home and forget it ever happened. You try to rush things So you've had your first and second dates, and everything appears to be going well. What exactly are you waiting for? Let's get this thing going! Unfortunately, that is not how it works. That's probably a good thing, because a couple dates don't necessarily imply that you know a guy well enough to start calling him your boyfriend. You have no chill when you like someone. It's not like you see yourself getting serious with a guy every day, so when one does, you're not very good at hiding it. You most likely over-text, want to hang out too much, and begin talking about the future too seriously, scaring away your potential love interest. You’re way too tempted to date people you’ve already dated. Because the getting-to-know-you phase of dating is extremely tedious for you, it appears to be far more efficient to simply rekindle a previous relationship rather than starting from scratch. Unfortunately, this means you're simply dating your own leftovers, which isn't as foolproof as you'd like to believe. When You Want A Relationship But Hate Dating, Here Are 10 Things That Happen You ignore red flags. When you've worked hard to build a relationship, you don't want to throw it all away because of a couple of so-called "red flags." So what if he still communicates with his ex and has his mother do his laundry? Isn't it true that everyone has flaws? To avoid going back to square one, you'll put up with almost anything. If you’re dating, you’re doing it with a purpose. Many of us will date casually, not looking for anything specific, just to have something to do. However, if you make the effort to meet a guy for drinks, you will have expectations. You wouldn't bother dating if you didn't want to find something serious. You get easily discouraged. The main reason you dislike dating is that going on dates that end in nothing seems like a waste of time. If you have a bad first date, you're not the type to eagerly set up another one with someone else—you'd rather stay at home and watch the Gilmore Girls reboot for the third time. Even so, it feels more productive. You don’t put in the effort. You might complain to your friends about how much you dislike being single and why you can't just find a great guy and fall in love already. They keep telling you that if you want to meet someone, you have to put yourself out there. Life isn't a romantic comedy, and the perfect guy won't magically appear in front of you.   Read the full article

[emmafallsinlove]

reblogging just to add the fact that he told me he added the right photo to his tinder/okcupid profile and girls are messaging him 😌

we are making blue cookies for percy’s birthday 🎉🩵

[onlinestatusquotes]

The Best Tinder Conversation Starters

Best Tinder Conversation Starters

Here are some Best Tinder Conversation Starters

No matter how confident you are, finding the perfect first message is not always easy. Therefore, knowing a fun conversation starter for dating apps is a great way to break the ice and relieve tension.

Where to use the conversation starter?

Even if you are not a The Tinder user, you can choose from many dating apps. You can find an app that suits your personal tastes and dating needs.

Tinder

OkCupid

Coffee Meets Bagel

Hinge

Bumble

Grindr

eHarmony

What is a Conversation Starter?

You want to strengthen your opening message so that you can make a great first impression. This is usually a compliment or a frivolous message.

Why should I use Tinder Conversation Starter? : Best Tinder Conversation Starters

When browsing Tinder and looking for potential matches, it’s important to consider finding common ground and asking interesting questions.

What makes a conversation starter a good conversation starter? :  Best Tinder Conversation Starters

You want conversations to be easy and easy, and you also want your Tinder male or female match to get to know you beyond your Tinder profile. A perfect conversation starter is someone who can lead to a conversation that is creative, unique, and emotional. Best Tinder Conversation Starters

Here are 50+ lines

I know everyone is talking about it in dating apps, but if it’s wrong to love the office, I don’t want to be Dwight.

So do you come here often?

As you know, I was waiting for you to send me a text, but I think I’ll take it for the team.

Do you believe in love at first sight, or should you break up and come back together?

Of course, we’ll meet via the app because you’re a complete snack.

Does browsing this dating app count as “practice”?

Do I need to call the fire brigade? I must have your phone full of matches.

Who is in the first photo? My grandmother asked.

The dog is so cute; can you give him my number?

You can say we met on Spotify because you are the hottest new single.

I’m glad I was able to do it, my thumb is tired!

Two mistakes don’t make you right, but the two rights are perfectly together.

Some people think with their hearts, others with their heads, but it’s good to think with their thumbs.

Well, I think the first message to me must have been lost in cyberspace. That’s okay. I will send it.

What would you choose if you needed to describe my profile in three words? And why should they be symbolic, perfect and perfect?

Stupid icebreaker

Why do bartenders use blenders? Crush the ice.

Go to Trader Joe’s, do you need anything?

Are you more afraid of spiders or do you say “you too!”? When the server says “Enjoy!”?

So do you have a good pick-up line?

People always say they want to be someone who thinks their pet is who they are, but my pet knows that all I do is watch bad TV in my pajamas and eat cereals every meal.

Mom asked me what “WAP” means … Any advice on how to talk this way?

Can you explain how to pay taxes for the first time using only emoji?

Which pasta shape do you like best?

What kind of shoes would she have if her mother was shoes?

If Napoleon Dynamite and Joe Exotic formed a band, what would they be called? Liger King.

What kind of kitchen appliances are you? Don’t call it a mixer. Everyone calls it a mixer.

Should this conversation start with a bad answer or just say hello?

Do you still think of all the embarrassing things you said in middle school, or are you a well-tuned adult?

Great. Huge. Incredibly. Huge … I didn’t like small stories.

If you were to write a memoir, what was the title?

Funny pickup lines : Best Tinder Conversation Starters

Where did the fuckboy go to college? U on.

I’m not going to flood my inbox, but don’t worry. It looks great.

I don’t like dried fruits, but see you on a date.

I want to embrace our feelings in Marg and Tacos someday.

Are you a library book? Because I want to check you.

Are you a barista? Because I like latte.

I couldn’t refuse to talk to you, very much hoping that you brought me back.

I hope this app will be a great meal.

What do you call a row of trucks? One pickup line.

Do you know Claude Monet’s work? Because it gives a good impression.

I’m trying to think of a postmate’s pick-up line, but I need help with delivery.

They have to call you Earl Gray because you are a very hot tea.

I know it’s cheap, but pairing with you is too gouda to be true.

I’m trying to think of fruit and vegetable jokes, but I can’t make much under pressure.

Would you like to make water later? How about a drink?

“Big city”! (I thought about saying something interesting for an hour.)

I remember a reusable bag in a grocery store and need to deal with it.

What does a good person like you do in a place like this?

To shorten the long story, do you share dinner on your first date?

You didn’t like me very much, but it’s okay. Use your number as an excuse.

I’m not good at starting a conversation, why not try it?

What if you could start this conversation and start the next conversation?

Is our anniversary the first time we played a match or the first time we sent a message?

[humongouscrownbeard]

Simple Facts About Dating Explained

Finding high quality individuals on a dating app or in a bar is like looking for a needle in a haystack: time consuming and irritating. Online over 50 dating sites are great and give you an easy means of interacting with hundreds of people trying to satisfy you. Q: I'm in search of a severe relationship, is this service for me? We give you the skilled dating service. נערות ליווי בקריות As a busy younger skilled I haven't got time to message endlessly on Tinder or go on a bunch of lifeless end dates. Many apps akin to OkCupid, Bumble, Match, and Tinder now assist you to proudly show a professional-climate change or environmentalism badge … He started his own label, Nippit Records, after leaving Lyric Street in 2006, and launched the compilation album Now & Then on it. In line with our records, Jeremy Lin is presently single. If you’re newly single or are suffering from swipe fatigue, I’ll information you as we shorten your search on-line, offline, and in your cell phone to end up within the arms of your excellent match. If you’re single and are utilizing dating apps, finding a love match based mostly on your social values is excessive on the dating totem pole.

In line with statistics, OkCupid and Match are thought of one of the best sites for locating a future wife. Finding out who is dating Wot Dennis is comparatively simple, but preserving observe of all his flings, hookups, and breakups is harder. Sec. 71.003. Family. "Family" includes individuals associated by consanguinity or affinity, as determined underneath Sections 573.022 and 573.024, Government Code, people who are former spouses of one another, individuals who're the mother and father of the identical youngster, without regard to marriage, and a foster little one and foster parent, without regard to whether or not those individuals reside together. 1220, Sec. 1, eff. 1136 (H.B. 249), Sec. Sec. 71.002. Court. "Court" means the district court docket, court of domestic relations, juvenile court docket having the jurisdiction of a district court docket, statutory county court, constitutional county courtroom, or different courtroom expressly given jurisdiction under this title. This explicit neural pathway signifies that, not like sight and sound, odor is interpreted first when it comes to memory and emotion before being mapped to language.

Putting your absolute best foot onward will entice extra consideration and receive you the actual date you might have been dreaming of. Also, you'll be able to select specialized platforms if you're enthusiastic about brides from a selected country. It's Friday night as soon as once more you are sitting at dwelling. I put the soccer on for him each night. With slightly bit of endurance and luck, a seniors dating service may be just what it's essential formally put yourself on the market. Often the scammer will pretend to wish the cash for some type of non-public emergency. If you have any questions why not learn our FAQs right here or if you need some specific help, you may always drop us a line - we're right here and completely satisfied to guide you through. One piece of dating advice that’s super particular to Los Angeles is tips on how to deal with flakes.

Hoffman. She suggests beginning by committing to two or three months of making dating apps certainly one of your high priorities. The segment featured three couples the place the ladies have been between six and 20 years older than their companions. Two years later, his performing instructor advised him to pursue appearing professionally. IU boyfriends: She has had at least two previous relationships. Two in 5 daters have even stated they’ve gotten matches confused with one another, the company wrote in today’s announcement. Though dating apps have been round for lots longer than 5 years, they've exploded in recognition since 2016, when there have been 240.9 million dating app customers worldwide. Dating apps have tried to stop the development with numerous options. It was an honor and joy to be again on the Today Show with Maria Shriver, where we talked in regards to the upward pattern of older ladies dating younger men.

[elenarodriiguez]

destined dating app | w.h.

summary: mate match might be some legendary dating app, but it wouldn't work for you. you're sure of it.

pairing: will halstead x reader

word count: 834

prompt: destined dating app & “usually i don’t believe in this bullshit, but you…” for @hauntedmilkshakeghost

If it were possible for the ground to swallow you whole right this very second, you would’ve happily been on your way to the core of the Earth right about now. Apparently your complaints about your dismal love life, particularly around your coworkers who are all happy and in long-term relationships, were no longer appreciated. And it seems that the only possible way they could get around all of the complaints was to sign you up for that damn dating app.

Because of course it couldn’t be any regular one like Bumble, Hinge, OKCupid, hell you’d even take Tinder at this point. No, they had to sign you up to Mate Match. It had been all over the news, the brand new start up which had an impossibly high success rate, with all of the couples from the beta tests still together three years later, and apparently it was your best bet at finding love, at least in their eyes it is.

They hadn’t even told you who you’d be going on a date with, just that he was a doctor, was fairly tall and that he’d be wearing a black leather jacket. You’d gotten dressed up for the date even though you knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would go terribly, let the guys in your unit tease you for actually putting effort into your appearance, and driven to the bar, mentally steeling yourself for what kind of person you’d be walking into.

You’ve seen it all, you’ve been on ill-fated dates with every kind of terrible person it’s humanly possible to come across, and just because this mystery guy you’d been set up with was some kind of doctor doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be just as terrible. As you get out of your car and walk towards the bar, you text Hailey and remind her once again that if anything goes wrong tonight, you have no moral qualms against walking in on her and Jay and blaming her for the horrific evening.

It doesn’t take very long for you to locate the guy you’d been set up with, his jacket draped across an otherwise empty bar stool beside him. Even though you can’t see his face, there’s something rather familiar about him that you can’t quite pinpoint, but as you edge closer to him, there’s nothing sticking out at you.

“Just so you’re aware,” you say as you sit down, flagging the bartender over and not even daring to take a look at your date, “the only reason I’m here right now is because I’d look like a dick if I ghosted you. That and my friends would kill me for skipping out on this date.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he responds, and your heart sinks as you realise just how you recognised his body, “I’m-”

“Will, yeah, I know, we’ve met before.”

“Oh wait, you-”

“Work with your brother and your soon to be dead future sister-in-law? Yes, yes I do.”

“I swear I didn’t know it was you, I just thought you were cute, and when you, or well, Hailey, suggested that we go on a date, well I just couldn't say no. Hold on, you didn’t know you’d be going on a date with me?”

“No, I mean, not that I mind, you’re not too bad yourself, but they didn’t tell me anything except that you’re a doctor, tall and was supposed to be wearing a leather jacket, but I think it looks better on me than it does you.” You tease, draping the material over your shoulders, smirking to yourself as he eyes you up and down.

“That it does. Look, I’d completely understand if you didn’t want to carry on this date, especially if you’re coming into this blind, but I gotta tell you, I wouldn’t mind having this date. Obviously.”

“Usually I don’t believe in this bullshit, but you… I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Great. You, uh, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

“But first,” you say, clutching the jacket as you slide off of the barstool, “there’s a couple people I think we need to go visit first. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from any unwanted sights.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s just say Hailey was supposed to be the person I would go to if this date had been a complete and utter shitshow. And she was supposed to be staying over at Jay’s place tonight.”

“Well if it’ll piss Jay off, I’m in. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He pays off his tab before joining you, bracing an arm around your waist as he guides you through the bar. Their reactions better be top quality, otherwise the teasing you’ll inevitably receive over the success of the app won’t be worth it. Although, could they really say it was the app that made the difference if your friends had wanted to set you up with Will in the first place? Who knew?

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Somewhere in the middle

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: When you break into your childhood best friend's room, James "Bucky" Barnes expects a usual hello. Maybe a quick run-down of the HBO show you've been watching.

Until you announce to him your plan of wanting to lose your virginity. And who better to help you than Bucky? He's one of your best friends, and he knows what he's doing when it comes to women. It should be fine, right? You've been in love with him since forever, and it won't jeopardize your friendship.

Not at all.

Warnings: Set in a modern, no powers/superheroes setting. Bucky and the Reader are also childhood friends. Mentions of a past relationship, and cheating (not from the Reader), discussions about sex, oral sex (female receiving), kissing, Bucky and Reader bonding, a lot of food, angst/hurt/comfort, first times, the Reader avoiding Bucky, an Angry!Bucky, arguing, bathtub sex. Kinda rough sex? Mild daddy kink. Some name-calling, slight degradation. Little bit of Dom!Bucky. Slight power dynamics too. Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark. Idk, they're idiots in love guys, sue me. Mentions of Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You song. Sorry if you hate it. I'm basic.

Word Count: 13,086 words

“You want me to what?”

James Buchanan Barnes only looked at you.

Very confused.

He was very confused.

He felt like someone had just cracked his skull open. Or whacked his head with a cast-iron skillet.

Had he heard what he had just heard?

Bucky was very happy that his three younger sisters and his parents weren’t home.

Rebecca was out with her friends.

Mary and Frances were at a study group at their friend’s house.

And tonight was his parent’s anniversary. So they were out on their date night tonight.

“Okay…” Bucky started to say slowly to you, “let me see if I got this right…” you nodded, “you came over to my house,” more nodding, “… through my window,” Bucky also added, to which you rolled your eyes in a good-natured kinda way, “Come on Buck-Buck,” you interrupted him with a snort as Bucky allowed himself to scowl at the nickname you had blessed upon him as kids, “you’re the only one that I can trust to do this with. There’s nobody else I thought of when I cooked up this plan.”

“And this plan,” Bucky drawled, continuing to talk, “did you think of this with Wanda and Natalia?”

To which you scoffed.

The audacity of this man.

“Puh-lease Buck-Buck,” you waved him off as you got up from the windowsill from where you had been previously sitting on, and flopping on his bed, the tank top that you had been wearing riding up a few inches.

From where Bucky was standing near the closet of his Brooklyn home that he shared with his parents and three younger sisters Rebecca, Mary, and Frances, he could feel his cock stir in his pants. He mentally cursed to himself, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

Which, you didn’t. Or it didn’t look like it, because you started looking up the ceiling, deep in thought.

You and Bucky had been friends for what seemed forever.

Ever since you were kids.

And there was Steve too.

The three of you had been inseparable ever since grade school. Then junior high. And then high school.

Now that the three of you had graduated college and life moved the three of you forward, it seemed your long friendship was not ending any time soon.

Nope.

Not one bit.

But Bucky could admit to himself and only himself, that he had a crush on you for a long time now.

Because okay sure, he wasn’t a virgin.

He had lost his virginity, cut himself from singlehood when the two of you had been in high school with a girl named Dolores. Dot for short.

“… Wanda and Natasha couldn’t have helped me with this plan. They’re on their vacas, remember? Natasha’s in Europe with Clint. Wanda’s in London with Vis. Besides... I’ve already tried everything… Tinder, Grindr, Bumble, Hinge… Tasha tried getting me on OkCupid, but that didn’t end up well…”

Bucky blinked.

“Wait… weren’t you dating that one guy?”

To which you scowled.

You down-right scowled.

“Used to,” came your grumble.

“Huh?”

Now he was really confused. Making his way over to his bed, so he could sit down next to you, you let out a frustrated groan and sat up. Bucky patted his lap so you could sit on it. You scooted onto his lap. Bucky pulled your hair back, you having tied your hair in a ponytail because of the rush from getting from your house to his.

One arm looped around your stomach, pulling your back to flush against his front. Your head finding the crook of his neck like it was second nature. Your nose rubbed against the side of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne that just reminded you of home. It reminded you of all those times where you, him, and Steve would be running down the streets of Brooklyn after school every day to go to the one ice shop that the three of you loved so much back in the day. You had always loved the strawberry flavor. Bucky always favored cookies n cream. Steve, being basic, just always liked vanilla.

And yes. The two of you teased Steve mercilessly for that when the three of you were younger as kids.

It really took ahead when at your sixteenth birthday party, Steve came out of the closet to you and Buck as bisexual. Then he started dating Tony Stark, the son of Howard and Maria Stark. The one guy you knew in your AP Physics and AP Chemistry class was the rich kid who was a nerd. Plus, the two of you were in the robotics club. So it wasn’t really surprising when Tony had joined your trio of chaos.

Eight years and still going on strong. You briefly wondered when Steve was going to pop the goddamn question already.

But, Steve was still on his tour. Tony was busy running Stark Industries after Howard Stark had gotten arrested and thrown in jail after so many charges of domestic abuse against his wife, Maria Stark. Who had gotten a divorce, right before he had gotten arrested. You knew she and Tony still lived together in the penthouse though. Maria wouldn’t just abandon her baby boy like that. Never.

Voice quiet, you replied to Bucky.

“He cheated on me.”

Bucky had fallen silent.

Looking even more confused, and now just a tad bit angry.

Who would have the balls to cheat on you? Why would anyone cheat on you?  The idea was just stupid sounding and whack in his opinion, to be honest.

“You… you remember when you went to college outta country in our junior year of college? When ya went to London to study abroad for a year?”

Bucky nodded.

He had remembered that.

“Yeah… a few months before you left… I got into this relationship with this guy. We met at the college I went to, actually. We met through mutual friends. And I don’t live on campus, but he did, so… we started talking and… I don’t know… I kinda just fell. Hard. I don’t know how to explain it, but…” a sigh left your lips as you remembered.

You didn’t really like to think about it.

Because okay yeah, it had been a few years at this point. Three years.

Even though you had moved on, you couldn’t help but feel hurt about it when the thought crossed your mind sometimes.

It was the reason why you kinda sorta had trust issues with guys now. Not just guys, but people in general.

You didn’t really swing one way or the other, or heck, even both like Steve and Bucky. You kinda just liked people. You liked everybody. You were into more of the mundane stuff. Cause sure, you were into sex too. You had watched pornography and read some pretty dirty ass smut back in your day. Some that could be called questionable by some people.

But it was okay, right?

You were just a normal, functioning human being with a lot of trust issues and intimacy issues.

“… Eventually though, I just… kinda told him. I didn’t date him at first, though. Cause it was weird, ya know? You know I’m not really a good person when expressing my emotions.” You said. To which Bucky nodded.

Other than Steve, he knew you like the back of his hand. He could recite every single stupid fact about Gossip Girl, because it had been a show you had been obsessed with as a teenager, and okay yeah, he might’ve watched it with you too when Steve couldn’t because Steve thought the show was too “girly” for his taste. Something about the show being too dramatic for him or something like that.

And your godforsaken crush on Carter Baizen.

Really, what was up with that? Bucky didn’t understand how you liked him. To which, you had explained to him once.

“Carter’s the only person I’d trust in bed with me.” You said to Bucky as the two of you were cuddled together on the couch in the Bishop Family Home.

Kate, your younger sister was out for her archery lessons with Clint. Your other younger sister, Susan, was out with a few friends.

The two of you were doing a rewatch of Gossip Girl.

“Why him? He’s not even cute,” Bucky complained to you as the two of you saw Carter bend down and kiss Serena on the cheek.

“Yeah, he is,” you retorted back to him, grabbing the remote and pausing the screen. You even got up to point at the screen with the remote, gesturing to Carter.

“See? Look how cute he is in a button-down shirt. C’mon Buck-Buck, tell me you don’t find that cute,” you said to him.

Bucky, being the good friend that he was, just scowled.

“He looks like me,” came his next complaint.

“Okay, and?” You did not look impressed as you plopped back down next to him, and Bucky pulled you close to him again, huffing like a toddler that got denied his candy.

In which you just rolled your eyes.

“Oh shush, and watch the damn episode.”

“… But then we started dating.”

Still, Bucky continued to listen.

Because he always listened to you. He never got tired of hearing you talk. Even with your cheesy TV shows that you watched on HBO. Which, he still couldn’t get to this day.

But Sam understood you. The damn pigeon man always understood you and your weird obsession with TV shows.

“For a few months… everything was okay. I was actually happy. Everything was going well. Then… then shit just hit the fan.”

“So what, you just lied to me?”

You looked at the woman next to you.

It was way past midnight.

You had been resisting the urge to vomit for a good three hours now, ever since your boyfriend had brought you from Brooklyn into the Bronx to some women’s house that you didn’t know the name of.

And then shit had hit the fan.

“You said we were going on a break because you needed space! And then guess what you do, you start talking to another chick and then you get with her? Is that it, huh?”

The three of you were in her kitchen.

And you really, really wanted to fucking vomit in the nearest toilet.

“You… you lied to me too?”

Your voice was a little woozy. Everything had been like a fever dream up until this point, but now, it was beginning to sink in. The urge to vomit was getting stronger and stronger by the second. Like a ticking bomb that was going to go off any second now. Your head hurt. You knew you couldn’t go home to Steve or Bucky. Steve was still on his tour. Bucky was still studying in London. Maybe you could go and grab an Uber, go to Natasha’s or Wanda’s. Or maybe you’d snag an Uber to go back to the Bishop residence, and invite the girls over so you could bawl your eyes out and the three of you could watch some trashy Rom-Com together. Kate and Susan were at home too. It would be fine.

“You didn’t know?” Her voice was soft. You couldn’t bring yourself to shake your head no.

“No,” your voice was shaking, “I didn’t-”… “I didn’t know- oh my god.”

You covered your hand on your mouth as you felt the bile rise to your mouth. The other woman, you couldn’t remember her name.

Elena? Emilia? Emily? You knew it began with an E.

Erika put a hand on your shoulder. Beginning to lead you to the nearest bathroom upstairs. You ran to the toilet and vomited. Then you started crying. Little sobs leaving you as fat, wet tears streamed down your face.

Your boyfriend had a girlfriend.

He already had a girlfriend and had been dating her at the same time as you.

You didn’t know when you had stopped crying or vomiting your guts out, but you could clearly hear the spitting match that was still happening downstairs in the kitchen.

“… So you bring an innocent girl into this fucking mess? You didn’t even bother to tell her that you already had a girlfriend?” Erika screamed from where you could hear her from downstairs.

“… She looked vulnerable! I felt bad for her!” You heard the loud reply.

“… And you decided to get with that poor girl, who didn’t even know about me, you didn’t even bother telling her you were already with me, because you felt bad for her? Fuck you, Colin!” You heard her shout back.

A scuffle of footsteps caught your attention.

America Chavez was looking at a strange young woman that was puking in the toilet in the bathroom across from her room. Her younger brother, Kurt was crawling towards her, the one-year-old blinking at you as his big sister picked him up, resting him on her hip.

All you could do was struggle as you got up, dragging your feet to the sink. Rinsing your mouth so you could get rid of the vomit taste in your mouth. The sink continued to run as you washed your hands. You tried to not look at your face, which you knew would probably show how much of a mess you were, with your eyes rimmed red from crying, your cheeks all tear-stained, and your nose running. There was a blowing noise as you grabbed some toilet paper and blew your nose.

“Who’re you?” America asked.

You nearly shrieked in surprise.

You had jumped though.

“Oh. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…” you swore underneath your breath.

You knew if your mother, your birth mother were still alive, she would’ve gasped at your use of ahem, very colorful language.

Your mother had passed away at an early age. And then your father had married Kate and Susan’s mother, only for her to pass away too. By that time, you were around eight years old when Kate had been born. You were eleven when Susan had entered the world. Your father was very emotionally distant. Never paid attention to you or your younger siblings. It had been you to be the one to help pack your younger sister’s lunches, to make sure that the three of you got to school on time. You had to wake up extra early to make sure that you’d get them to elementary school with help from your family’s butler.

Below you in the kitchen, the shouting was becoming less and less loud. There was a sound of a door opening and slamming shut loudly.

Footsteps had become to make their way upstairs.

“America! Kurt! What are you going up?” You heard Erika speak to her niece and nephew. America and Kurt were still looking at you.

“The woman was puking, Auntie.” was what America said to her Auntie Erika in Spanish.

“To bed, you two. Go on. Go,” Erika scolded her niece and nephew in Spanish. You watched as America and Kurt ran back to the room that they shared.

“He’s gone,” she informed you quietly.

“I should go… home,” you spoke plainly.

It almost made you cringe. How defeated you sounded.

“Okay. I’ll take you home.”

“Then… yeah… I found out he had already a girlfriend while dating me at the same time because he felt bad for me and… shit just… happened.”

Bucky couldn’t believe what he had just heard. As soon as you finished explaining what had happened, he had a very deep urge to hunt your ex down, get his address, and beat him up. He could get the asshole’s address, right? He had to have someone in his circle that knew the guy. Or you could tell him where he lived. Bucky was open to suggestions.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

To which you looked at him. Your eyes beginning to water. A soft sniff leaving you too. Your head leaned into his neck. The hand that had been holding onto your ponytail loosened its grip.

“I-It’s not like I still like him or anything… I don’t… but like… you know… it still hurts sometimes. When I think about it,” you hurried to clarify yourself when you explained it to him. Giving him a short, quick nod.

Bucky felt for you. He truly did.

But he still wanted to beat up the guy.

Like badly.

Not to send him to the hospital or anything.

Just a reminder.

Maybe he’d get Clint to help him out or something.

No, he couldn’t. Clint and Natalia were on their vaca, as you told him.

Damn.

Maybe Sam? Sam would help him beat up the asshat, right? He could always trust Sam in helping him out in these things.

Thoughts brewed in his head as he held you. Wiped away a tear here and there.

“Tell me your plan, again?” Bucky found himself asking you.

You blushed. Like hella hard.

“O-Oh… um…” an embarrassed expression found its way onto your face. You chuckled nervously, beginning to bury your face into his neck.

“S' embarrassing,” your voice was muffled into the crook of his neck.

“Doll,” Bucky began saying as he helped you get your face out of the crook of his neck, having you look at him, “just tell me. I won’t judge you.”

“Iwanttolosemyvirginity.”

He blinked.

“Come again?” He replied, a bewildered tone in his voice.

Had you said what he thought you said?

“I want to lose my virginity,” you said again, a little slower this time so you could get used to the words on your lips.

Really, what had you been thinking when you thought of this plan? You had been so sure that it would be easy. Plus, it was Bucky out of all people! It would be okay. You trusted Bucky with your life. You loved Bucky. Maybe more than a friend should. You hadn’t known when this thing you felt towards him became more than just friendship. Maybe it was when he had gotten with Dot in high school and you started to fill out more. Puberty had hit you like a freight train after sophomore year. You hadn’t gotten any taller. But your boobs came in. Your period had already come when you were young.

Oh yeah. You were one of those. The first time had been painful. You had been bleeding for so long, but luckily, Bucky and Steve’s mothers had come over and given you lots of chocolate.

“You’re growing up and becoming a woman,” Sarah Rogers had told you. Winifred Barnes nodding in agreement with her.

“Oh. Okay.”

How could he be so cool? So calm? So collected?

“Huh?”

You looked confused.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh. Okay?’” You said as you looked at him. You began to shrink away from him.

“Oh my god,” you began to speak in horror, “oh my god oh my god,” you repeated as you looked at him in horror, your cheeks red, “You don’t wanna do this with me.”

“Doll.”

His hand had found its way back into your hair, gripping it and pulling you back towards him. You were face to face again, looking at each other in the eyes.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to feel embarrassed,” he said to you.

But you really were feeling embarrassed.

“M’ sorry,” you replied to him as you looked at him, your eyes full of nervousness, “I’ve just… never talked to anybody… about this. About sex, I mean. I’ve only talked about it to Tasha and Wanda… and then there was the period talk with Kate and Susan too, now that was a trip…” Bucky only brought you closer to him, squishing you against him as he listened to you talk. You were the type of person that could talk for hours, nonstop. Bucky loved it. He could listen to you talk forever.

“… Cause y’know… being a woman and everything…” nods came from Bucky, “and like,” you continued, “but… I never really… I mean… yeah, I’m sexually attracted to people but… I have… issues.”

“Tell me.”

And there it was.

Why you loved James Buchanan Barnes so much.

And Steve too, but he was in a different category.

Bucky was willing to listen to you. He let you talk a lot. Even though you found it to be borderline embarrassing sometimes, how long you could talk. How you could go on and on forever without stopping. Kinda almost like Alexander Hamilton. Maybe you could ask Bucky if he wanted to see the show with you soon? It would be a nice parting gift, a final hurrah before you exited, partied all the way outta singlehood.

Licking your lips, you replied to him. Gazing into the blue eyes that made your heart flutter. “I’ve… never done anything… besides like… kissing. Maybe a little touching under the shirt? But that’s it. I’ve never had… I’ve never had anyone eat me out before. Forget fingering me. Never my pussy. I don’t know. It’s… it’s really stupid. It’s so stupid,” you shook your head in embarrassment, but Bucky, being Bucky, just smiled at you, giving you one of his boyish smiles you saw all the time growing up together.

“No,” Bucky responded to you without skipping a beat, “It’s not stupid, doll.” He rubbed your shoulder gently in comfort. It at least made you feel just a tad bit comfier.

Cause if there was something Winifred Barnes installed in her son, was that he would always be a gentleman and treat his girl right. And you were his girl. His number one. He wouldn’t trade you for the world.

“Is it because you’re nervous? Cause that’s okay, doll. Everybody gets nervous,” Bucky assured you.

“Well… kind of. I’m nervous but…” A sigh came from you. Probably from trying to keep your heart that was pounding in your chest steady. You looked down at your lap.

You had been a little bit awkward growing up. With an emotionally unavailable father, you always tried to reach out. But because Derek Bishop was so unattached to you, never around, you never could truly express how you felt around people. Opening up had been hard and awkward. You could still remember the first time you had allowed yourself to open up to Steve and Bucky, you had started bawling right then and there. It had been really ugly. Real messy.

But it was okay. Cause then, then you knew. How good it felt to have people who listened to you.

“Just…” you found yourself lifting your head back up, looking into the blue eyes that were full of warmth and concern for you. “I’ve never been touched down there, y’know? I don’t know how it feels. Forget being fingered, I know some guys who aren’t into the whole eating-out thing. Which is so weird. Like, they like their dick sucked but won’t eat their partner out? Cause for what? Their fragile ego or something?”

Sometimes, you didn’t understand men. The male species in general. It was so weird.

“How about we give you one right now?”

“What?”

If you were confused then, you were even more confused now.

But Bucky, good lord, Bucky, looking at you with a dark, eyes glittering kinda look in his eyes, his pink lips curled into a smirk. One that made your panties dampen.

“Eating you out,” was Bucky’s quick reply, the response flowing out of him like water. “Since y’know, you say guys usually don’t do it often.”

“But,” you wet your lips, a nervous chuckle leaving you, “you’re- you’re not like- you’re not like… other… guys.”

“Exactly.”

Oh, this little shit.

You could only gape in shock at Bucky’s shit-eating grin on his face. He looked so proud of himself. Little shit.

“So? Whatcha say, doll? You want me to eat you out?” Bucky leaned closer to you if that was even possible. You were spluttering, eyes wide in shock.

But this was Bucky. Your Bucky. He would never hurt you. And, he knew what he was doing. Why wouldn’t you trust him?

It took you a quick second to gather your wits together. You gave him a nod.

“You sure?” You nodded again.

“Lay on your back. Relax.” Bucky coaxed you as you gave him a slight timid look. But you laid down on your back, your eyes trained upon him as Bucky inched close to you, his body hovering over yours, but not enough to squish you. His hands found the elastic band of your pants. They were your favorite, because of the stretchy waistband. What could you say? You liked comfy clothes.

Bucky pulled the elastic waistbands of your pants down with one hand. Pooling the fabric around at your feet, he yanked it off and tossed it to the floor of his bedroom. His other hand sank into your panties with a slick sound.

You couldn’t help but gasp.

Feeling someone touching you, down there, was a weird feeling. Having no one touch you like that, in your pussy, felt weird.

But you never got a chance to dwell on it further. A squishing noise was heard as Bucky pumped one finger in and out of your pussy. A choked noise came from you.

“Feel good?” His breath was hot against the side of your neck. You gave him a timid nod.

“Words, doll. I need words.”

“Y-Yes,” your voice had come out a little strangled, a choked gasp, maybe a whimper came from your throat when Bucky added a second finger.

You were gonna be honest to yourself. You thought it would be easy, asking Bucky for help. You’d ask him, and then the two of you would just get onto the dick and vagina action and you’d swallow your pride and feelings and then maybe eat ice cream in your room in the Brownstone you lived in with Kate and Susan. And then you’d go back to being normal. A sense of normalcy would come and you’d pretend that getting railed by your best friend hadn’t changed your life. Flipped it all the way upside down.

But this?

Yeah. No.

You were not expecting this.

You were not expecting Bucky to treat you like this. And you had heard the rumors too. That Bucky was a giving man. That he preferred his mouth to his fingers. You had heard around the grapevine about all that stuff.

You just didn’t expect it to be true.

And how could you have confirmed the rumors?

Like, what were you going to do? Go up to Bucky and be like: Oh sorry Buck, I just heard that you like oral sex and that you don’t like using your fingers? Can you give me a demonstration and ruin my life, please?

No.

Goodness no.

Absolutely not.

“Bucky,” you whined.

You were a whiny, gasping mess already by the time Bucky scooted up more. Just a bit more forward. Shifted around, bent his knees on either side of your thighs on his bed, looking down at you like all he wanted to do was fuck you into his bed until you were screaming.

It was taking a lot of self-restraint not to do that.

Like a lot.

Bucky might as well have called himself a goddamn fucking saint because never, in the history of forever, had his dick ever been as hard as it was now. Even now, when he was pressed down on you like this, you could feel how hard he was.

It wasn’t anything embarrassing. You weren’t skirmished about it or anything. Something inside you relished in the fact that Bucky was just as turned on as you were.

“Bucky, m’ please-” you tried again, a begging tone in your voice. You could feel his smirk against your thigh. His breath tickled your pussy lips as he watched your vaginal walls tightened around his two fingers.

“Please what, doll? Gimme words, doll. Gimme words,” Bucky said.

“Please eat me out. Please, please, please-” you begged him.

When he pulled out his fingers, a whine left you as your pussy clenched around nothing. You could see his smirk from in between your legs.

“Just do it already,” came your huff.

You regretted your words after that. Bucky’s mouth lowered as he took into your slicked pussy lips in between his own, happily sucking as if he was a man starved. Smearing your arousal around with his tongue, his chin rubbed up against your inner thighs, making them wet. The way his tongue flicked against your clit made you feel good. It was good. More than good.

You were cursing. Gasping. Moaning. Gripping his blankets so hard that you were pretty sure your knuckles were white and about to pop by how hard you were clutching his blankets.

Okay. So the rumors were right.

He was really that good.

You were never doubting Darcy Lewis’s words ever again.

And then you were crying out. Your hips bucking against his face as your orgasm suddenly came. You were cumming so fast that you couldn’t quite have a second to process it. Never had you come this fast before. You had masturbated a lot in the past. But you had never come this quickly before.

Your sudden orgasm made his chest swell with pride.

You couldn’t speak. For a few seconds, your mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. Deep breaths were coming from you.

“C-Can… can you… can you do that again? But like… can you add your fingers too?” Your voice was breathless as you looked down at him. Looked down into those blue eyes that burned with a need.

Yeah.

Yeah, he could do that.

He could fuck you with his tongue, draw so many orgasms out of you without having to use his cock. Sure, he could use his fingers too. But sometimes, fingers just wouldn’t be enough. He needed to taste it. As good as touching was, feeling you come on his tongue was something he was quickly finding that he liked.

He liked it very much.

“Yeah… yeah. I can do that. How many fingers do ya want? Two? Three? Four?” Bucky asked you. You flushed.

“I- u-um… three. Three sounds good.” You nodded. Bucky nodded back, satisfied.

He took your pussy lips back into his mouth, sucking. His tongue licking broad strokes over your clit that was becoming sensitive. Bucky moaned against your slippery, wet lips. A grin stretching on his lips as he felt your thighs tremble and shake as you announced your orgasm with a cry.

His hands kept your hips in place as he rode out your orgasm with you. When he finally lifted his head from where he had been buried face deep into your pussy, he saw how your lips were parted, your bottom lip red from how hard you had bitten them. How your pupils were dilated. You looked down at him, watching how his dick strained painfully in the confines of his jeans.

“Was it good?” He asked you.

“Y-Yeah…” you managed to breathe out, “twas good.” He crawled up to you.

“Can I kiss you?”

You blinked.

You hadn’t been expecting that either.

“If you want to. We don’t have to kiss. I’m just asking.��

Okay, maybe he was being a bit greedy. But Bucky couldn’t help it. Seizing the opportunity.

Tensely, you nodded. Signaling that it was okay.

“I trust you,” You replied to him gently. In reassurance.

Bucky leaned down slowly, his lips brushing against yours. Just to get the feel of your lips against his. Your lips were a bit chapped, but he didn’t mind. When he kissed you, it was gentle. Almost like he was testing the waters. Your lips moved together gently. His tongue licked at your top lip and gently nibbled on your bottom lip, making you moan. Your arms had wrapped themselves around his neck, bringing the man down closer to you.

It was a couple of seconds before he managed to pull away from you. Looked down into your eyes.

“Was that okay?” His voice was rough.

A few seconds later, Bucky got a soft “yeah” in return.

He rolled over, laying beside you in his bed.

He smiled.

A couple of weeks later...

“Okay… in all seriousness… Buckaroo, are you stupid?”

Bucky scowled.

From where they were sitting at their usual pizza place joint, Sam chewed on another piece of pizza as he gave the chestnut-haired beside him a very judging look.

“I’m only doing it because she’s a good friend, Sam,” was Bucky’s protest. Sam took a sip of his Sprite and rolled his eyes.

Hopeless. Buck was hopeless.

And a little stupid, but Sam would never tell him that.

“Y’all have known each other since y’all were kids, right?” At Bucky’s nod, Sam went on. “And you have any feelings about her? You haven’t thought about her in that way?”

Bucky suddenly found his throat becoming tight. He remained quiet, although his jaw was tightening. Sam leaned back into his seat, a smug expression showing on his face.

Because Sam was right.

He was always right.

Bucky scowled at him.

“Uh-huh, wear that scowl.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Bucky responded to him. Sam only kept the smug expression on his face.

“It means, Bucko, that I’m right. You like her. You like her like her. Just admit you’ve got it hard. Are you taking her to dinner?”

“She invited me to this get-together with Erika and her niece and nephew,” Bucky informed him as he watched Sam inhale his fifth slice of pizza.

“Who’s dat?” Sam asked him once he had washed down his fifth slice with a gulp of his Sprite.

“Her ex-boyfriend’s ex.”

Sam nearly spit out his soda.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“They’re on friendly terms, huh? Does she like the kids? Do the kids like her?” Sam pried him.

“I mean- yeah. The kids like her. They call her Auntie too.” Bucky replied to Sam, remembering the words you had told him.

“Awww. How sweet. The kids like her too. That’s adorable,” Sam nodded, before taking his sixth slice from where the two of them were splitting a pizza on the plate and eating it.

Bucky couldn’t really wrap his head around how Sam could eat so much pizza. Sam’s stomach was probably a vacuum for food. He knew that Sam had a high metabolism. Maybe it was that. He also knew his friend worked as a trainer at the gym down the street from his apartment.

As Bucky munched on his fourth slice, he thought about you.

Bucky wasn’t uncomfortable with sexual things. He was still very much a sexual creature. He liked sex. He knew what he was doing.

But you were inexperienced. Maybe after the little get-together, he’d ask what you’d like? Just to just a gist of what you wanted to do?

Yes.

Yes, he’d do that.

“So you’re gonna tell her, right?”

Bucky nearly dropped his pizza slice.

“Huh?” Bucky replied in surprise.

Sam just rolled his eyes in a good-natured way.

“You gonna tell your lady friend bout your crush on her? Y’all have been friends this long Buckaroo. You tell her everything right?” A nod. “Good,” Sam told him, “then it won’t hurt you to tell her bout how ya feel about her. Cause if you don’t, somebody else is gonna come right along and sweep her up. And then it’s bye-bye Bucky for you. You’re never gonna get the chance to tell her how you feel after that. And then what? What if she gets married to the guy? Or girl? Then whatcha gonna do? Tell her the day before her wedding during her bachelorette party?

“Cool it, Samuel.”

Sam just raised an eyebrow at him.

“James,” he replied in the same tone no-nonsense tone.

Bucky just scowled.

“Uh-huh. Keep scowlin’. Keep denying it. It isn’t gonna get you anywhere, Buckaroo. You keep denying it and it’ll keep building up. Keep denying it, and somebody gonna snatch her up, and pretty soon, you’re gonna come and crying to me bout how I was right.”

Bucky glared at him. If looks could kill, Sam Wilson would be six feet under by now. But Sam just leaned back into his chair again.

Suddenly, Sam’s phone went off. A familiar ringtone was heard as Sam fished his phone out of his back pocket and he answered the phone with a smirk.

“Hey, lil mama. What’s cooking, babycakes?”

Bucky was left to his thoughts as Sam talked to his girlfriend.

The gears in his head were moving.

His brain was firing at him.

He was plotting.

Bucky had a plan.

A few hours later, all the way over in Brooklyn at the Bishop Brownstone Home…

Weird.

You were acting really, really weird, Kate had finally deduced.

As the second-oldest in the family, Kate was often the middle child. Someone who could blend into the background easily. Since Clint had come back with Natasha a few days ago and they were still busy unpacking and getting their lives back in order, Kate was not attending her usual archery lessons with the blonde-haired man anytime soon.

It was kinda sad because while Clint and Natasha had been gone to their vaca in Europe, the three of you had been busy taking care and being the part-time caretakers of Liho and Lucky, their cat and dog that they had adopted with each other a few years back. Kate didn’t really lean here nor there with the whole dog lover vs cat lover debate. She liked any type of animal. Liho and Lucky had been with each other ever since they were a kitten and a pup, so they had gotten along. Lucky was like Liho’s overprotective brother. It was cute. The Golden Retriever was always cute.

But now, as the second-oldest Bishop family member was in her room that had NSYNC posters and even one of the Mandalorian show on her walls, Kate laid in her plush bed and wondered just what the hell had happened to you.

Cause yeah, Kate knew that you were going over to Erika’s house in The Bronx neighborhood to go to the little get-together, the Friendsgiving that you had attended for the past three years with her niece America and her nephew Kurt.

Deciding to roll off of her bed and put her slippers on, Kate grabbed her phone and walked out of her room, and headed downstairs to eat some late-night cereal. On her way down, she heard Susan talking to her boyfriend, Johnny Storm. Not that it mattered, because Kate knew they were doing on a date sometime this week at the McDonald’s down the street after Susan went to her ice-skating practice. Giving her younger sister a wave, Kate headed downstairs.

Grabbing the Captain Crunch Berries cereal and the jug of milk from the fridge, she plopped her ingredients down on the counter as she grabbed a bowl and spoon with the cupboard and the drawers. The pouring of cereal was heard as Kate poured some cereal into her bowl and then poured some milk. She had just gotten to begin munching on her cereal in the kitchen when the doorbell rang and there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” yelled Kate as she put her spoon down in her bowl and jogged to the front door in her slippers. She didn’t even bother padding to the door, taking her sweet time.

Nope.

Once she got to the door and unlocked it, the door swung open.

James Buchanan Barnes dressed casually in a black sweater and dark skinny jeans and his usual pair of some high-end brand sneakers that Kate couldn’t remember the name of, stood on the other side of the door, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Kate was so jealous that Bucky’s jeans had front pockets. They never made it like that for women’s jeans. It was totally unfair.

But, she giggled when she saw him. She was seventeen, could you blame her? And it was Bucky, so could you really blame her, again?

“Hey, Buck!” Kate greeted him. Bucky had the decency to blush, just a little.

“Is your sister home?” He asked. Kate beamed.

“Yeah, she’s home. Um- just make yourself at home. I’ll go upstairs and fetch her real quick.” Kate helped him inside as she closed the front door and locked it again, to see Bucky taking off his shoes at the front door. She bounced up the stairs, off to knock on your door as Bucky made himself comfortable on the couch.

Kate ran up to your door, giving it a knock. She called your name as you looked up from where you were reading on your phone. Sighing at your phone screen from where you were reading your fanfiction, you closed your screen and put your phone on your nightstand. Getting off your bed, you padded to your door and opened it. Kate was beaming. Smirking at you.

“What?”

When Kate was smirking, you knew something was up.

Whenever she smirked, it didn’t mean anything good.

“Bucky’s here!” She chirped.

You nearly fell to the floor. Grabbing her by her hand, yanking her into your room, and shutting the door loudly.

“He’s here? Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus fuck- does my hair look okay? I took my makeup off like hours ago, do you think he’ll notice?” You asked her in a hurried tone as you yanked your hairband out of your hair. Fumbling with your hair for a quick second, you turned to look at Kate.

“Good?” You asked her.

Kate was resisting the urge to laugh out loud. Being the good sister that she was, she gave you a nod and literally pushed you out of your door. Yanking it open and shoving you out.

The two of you went back downstairs where Bucky was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as he saw Mando shoot away another alien. Baby Yoda cooed at the screen.

Kate gasped.

“Susie! Get down here! Buck’s watching Mando! Oh my god, he watches the Mando show too! Oh my god, Baby Yoda is sooo cute!”

There was a muffled noise and some feet thumping as Susan rushed down the stairs. Her hair was wild and flying in her face. You tossed your teenage sister your hairband.

“Thanks,” Susan panted as she slumped onto the couch.

“Get your damn cereal. We’re watching the Baby Yoda show!” Susan scolded her older sister. Kate made an alarming noise as she darted to the kitchen counters, getting her bowl of cereal. She really hoped it wasn’t mushy. She hated mushy cereal. A lot. The four of you sat down on the couch. Bucky’s thigh slung over yours, holding you close. His hand gripping your hair. Your head placed happily in his shoulder. Kate and Susan gave each other a look and lightly snickered.

“Watch the damn episode,” was all you said.

Your sisters snickered again.

A couple of days later…

“Okay, so walk me through this again?”

“Do you need the recipe?”

The sounds of frying oil were heard in the Barnes household as you and Bucky stood in the kitchen.

The Thai Tea pie was in the fridge for later tonight, for the Friendsgiving. Get-together.

You were making the whipped cream in the stand mixer on the kitchen countertops while Bucky was near the stove, looking down at the frying oil in the big pot.

“How will I know it’s hot enough?” Bucky asked you, peering his eyes into the pot of oil.

“Grab a chopstick from the drawers,” you instructed him as you poured in the cold heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer, and then putting the powdered sugar in. Mixing it at a low speed, so you wouldn’t get a cloud of powdered sugar everywhere. That was never good for anyone.

Following your instruction, Bucky opened the drawers that contained the chopsticks, forks, and spoons. Pulling out a chopstick, he nodded. Confirming that he had followed your orders.

“Put it in the oil. In the middle. If it’s small bubbles, then it should be 350. Any more than that, it’s probably 375. Which means it’s too hot. Since we’re making Korean Fried Chicken and we’re frying it twice, 375 is too hot.”

Putting the chopstick in the pot, Bucky saw the small bubbles.

“Okay,” he said to you as you turned to look at him from where you had been looking at the stand mixer, “we’re going to do this in batches. Don’t wanna crowd the pot, cause then the temperature is gonna go down. And we don’t want that.”

“Mhmmm.” was all you responded with as you turned off the stand mixer, lifting the whisk attachment as you unhooked it. Whisk in the air, Bucky snatched a little bit on his finger and licked it.

“Is it good enough? Not too sweet?” You asked him.

“Nah.” he told you, “It’s great, doll. Not too sweet.”

Walking over to get his phone from where it was on the counter, Bucky put in a timer for twelve minutes. Then he put the first batch of chicken in the pot. He put it away from him, so hot oil wouldn’t splash on him. Cause he wasn’t stupid. Clicking the button on his phone, the timer started. His phone plopped right back onto the countertop.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Bucky told you as he grabbed the tongs, leaning against the counter, a couple of feet away from the pot of hot oil that was currently frying food. Making the kitchen smell really good.

“Uh-huh,” came your response, “what about it?”

“What do you like? I know you’re inexperienced. Nothin’ wrong bout that, doll, but I gotta know the things you’re into. Like… you gotta a praise kink I don’t know about? Or you like being tied up?”

An alarming noise that developed into one of contempt came from you.

“I… u-um…”

Aside from the fanfictions that you read, you watched porn, too. You weren’t an avid consumer of porn. You watched it here and there. Reading it did it for you.

“Y-Yeah… you could say that I guess,” you shrugged, trying to place off the fact that your heart wasn’t beating so freaking loud in your chest and that you could feel your panties dampen at the thought.

“Oh, okay… so, it wouldn’t really bother you… if I called you a good girl?” Bucky had the audacity to hum as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your favorite stretchy pants.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“N-No… wouldn’t bother me at all…” you lied.

Two of his fingers sank into the waistband of your pants, and your panties. A loud, slick, squishing noise was heard. His fingers curled inside of you, feeling the spot that made you go absolutely feral as you humped against him with a gasp.

“Hmm… there it is. That’s a good girl.” Bucky hummed against your neck as your cunt throbbed.

Lips covering your ear, he spoke.

“You’re a really terrible liar.”

When he slowly, painfully, slid his fingers out of your dripping pussy, you whined at him, your hips bucking against his. Trying to feel that friction. His fingers slammed right back in, curling against that spot that made you let out a loose cry as you came around his fingers. Trembling and gasping. Eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm overtook you.

Soft panting came from you as you slowly opened your eyes to see Bucky inserting his cum-covered fingers in his mouth, giving them a languished suck. With a pop, he removed them. A shit-eating grin was on his face as his body covered yours, making your back bend against the countertop.

“Didn’t even have to stroke your clit to make you cum. You were so snug round’ my fingers, doll. How’s my cock gonna fit in that tight pussy, huh?” Bucky’s hardened erection pressed against your still wet cunt. You let out a soft little noise.

“Wouldn’t worry about it,” you breathed out against his face, “you’re smart. You’ll figure something out.”

Bucky let out a smirk.

Later that evening…

“Oh, you’re here!”

Thumps came from downstairs as America and Kurt rushed to meet you.

“Auntie!” Kurt cried out as you picked up the four-year-old. Bucky was holding the food in his hands as Erika enthusiastically told the two of you to come in.

“I wasn’t expecting her to bring a friend. I was really surprised when she told me over the phone that she was bringing you,” Erika told Bucky as she helped the chestnut-haired man inside, closing the door behind him as the two of them heard a shriek from the kitchen table.

“Auntie, Auntie look! Look at what I drew!” Kurt had taken his drawing off of the fridge and was proudly showing it to you. It was a picture of the four of you together, with a sun in the corner.

“Oh, it looks so pretty! Did you draw it for school!” You inquired.

“Uh-huh!” Kurt was nodding, “my teacher said it looked nice!”

“It does look nice. Very nice, Kurt,” you replied to him as you helped me stick it back on the fridge with the magnet. Picking up the toddler again, you headed out into the backyard with Kurt and America in tow. The little girl followed you to the table that was outside.

The sounds of New York were still loud, even in The Bronx. The chill air, combined with the chatter of New Yorkers in the yard on either left or right of you was all you heard as you set Kurt down in the table as he let out a soft little grunt.

“You hungry?”

Kurt nodded in response.

“Hangry,” Kurt replied to you in a serious voice. You burst out laughing as Kurt giggled.

“You’re always hungry Kurt,” America reminded her brother with a giggle as the eight-year-old sat on the bench with a grunt. Dressed in her unicorn PJ's, America snuck a chip from the bowl in the middle of the table in her mouth.

“America! Nu-uh! No eating before we start!” Erika scolded her niece. America frowned. Even made a noise of displeasure.

“Auntie!” America whined, “m’ hungry!”

“Then you can wait, America Chavez!” Came Erika’s shout as there was a thunk in the kitchen. You just giggled at her pouting face.

After the five of you were done eating and you had caught up with Erika and the kids, you and Bucky bidded the three of them goodnight, despite Kurt and America’s protests and pleads of you to stay over. You and Bucky caught a Subway train from The Bronx back to Brooklyn, to your house.

When the two of you got to the door, you felt it.

The change in the air.

Suddenly, you felt vulnerable.

Cause yeah, okay sure, Bucky had been in your house before. Countless times. But this was different.

Bucky was following you to your room in the Bishop Brownstone Home. His shoes were at the door. The two of you walked up the stairs. Kate was at a sleepover at a friend’s house. So was Susan. So they wouldn’t be home until Monday, since today was Friday. Your bedroom door opened.

“I’m gonna get some towels,” Bucky told you. You gave him a nod.

Your nerves were thrumming at you. Screaming at you. Your fight or flight reflex was kicking in, but you couldn’t move. But eventually, like a haze, a fog overcoming you, your feet moved towards your bed. Your heart was still hammering in your chest. You could hear Bucky downstairs, getting the towels in the linen closet. Footsteps echoed to the bathroom and you heard the sink turn on. Water running down the drain. Bucky walked into your room, damp towels draped over his arms.

You were still nervous. Bucky probably had noticed your nervousness, because then he said, “I’m just going to lay these down, okay? You can get on the bed. You can undress too if ya want.”

That assured you. Calmed your nerves. Just a little. You flopped onto your bed, hearing Bucky’s snort.

Once he put all the towels down, did you yank your shirt off over your head. There was a soft thud on the floor when you tossed your shirt to the floor. You made grabby hands towards Bucky.

“Help me take it off?” You asked him, gesturing to the bra you were wearing.

“Do you want me to undress you too?” Bucky asked you lowly. You could feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vagina pulsed for a second too.

“Yeah,” your voice came out in a whisper as you looked at him. Carefully, Bucky’s hands came behind your back and you heard your bra snap. Bucky tossed the garment to the floor, much to your chagrin. A noise came from you.

“Lay back. I’ll help you take off the rest.” Bucky told you gently. Following his order, your back fell onto your blankets and comforters with a soft thud. Your head sinking into your fluffy pillow.

Pop.

You shivered. From where Bucky was over on top of you, he allowed himself to smirk.

There was a tug as Bucky took your jeans off, muttering something like, “they need to make front pockets for women for fucks sake.”

Which you totally agreed with.

It was totally unfair.

Bucky tossed your jeans to the floor.

“Be nice,” your voice floated as you looked up at his stupidly handsome face, “it’s my favorite pair.”

“I’ll fold it for you,” Bucky promised you.

“You better.” You grumbled. Bucky just let out a chuckle. His fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. Slowly and tortuously, he pulled them down. All the while you looked up at him, following his every movement, a soft whine leaving your lips. His hands gripped the material tightly. But not tight enough to rip it. When he had pulled down the material to your heels, you nearly kicked his palms.

“You’re teasing me,” came your hiss.

Bucky snickered.

The little shit snickered.

“Nu-uh. Just takin’ my time doll. Ma always told me to please a lady.”

His hands had spread your legs apart, revealing your pretty little pussy to him.

And then his mouth was on you.

“… oh god…”

Wet, sucking noises echoed as Bucky’s mouth had found your clit. Sucking on the little nub that made your back arch, just slightly. Your thighs quivered.

Two fingers eased themselves inside of your pussy. Stretching, scissoring, curling. Trying to find your g-spot like last time.

“… Buck…” you mewled.

His tongue gave kitten licks on your clit, his tongue licking a stripe of your folds, his chin smearing your arousal on your inner thighs. His two fingers curled against your g-spot, making your back arch completely off of the bed. You cried out. Your hands gripped your blankets and comforters tightly. So tight that your knuckles became white.

“Bucky, Bucky. Bucky-” his name became slurred on your lips as your hips moved up and down, grinding on his face as you whimpered. The pleasure was building up in your belly. You could feel it. Like a rope being cut. Bucky slowly slid his fingers out of your gushing cunt, making you whine.

“N-No… No, no, no-” you choked out. Bucky slammed in three fingers inside of you this time. Curling perfectly against your g-spot. Bucky took your clit back into his mouth. Sucking hard. You screamed as your orgasm overcame you, your vision turning white as spots danced in your vision. Your back arched completely off of the bed again.

“Good… so good doll… so pretty when you come…” Bucky’s words were scrambled. Jumbled, as he looked down at you. His sinful pink lips and chin wet with your release. All you could was pant.

Your hands immediately went to Bucky’s shirt. He helped you lift it off over his head. You tossed it to the floor with your clothes. Traveling down to his jeans, you fumbled with his belt, mumbling something along the lines of, “stupid fucking belts,” while Bucky just chuckled. Once you finally got his belt unbuckled, you popped off the front button of his jeans and pulled his zipper down. His jeans were soon tossed to the floor too.

Bucky crawled over to you. His knees parted on either side of your thighs. A hand gripping on his hardened erection, he nudged your legs open again.

“Can I… can I see? When you’re in me?” Your voice had wavered a little. Still the tad least bit nervous.

Bucky nodded.

“Yeah… I’ll let you see when I’m inside you. Play with your nipples, doll. I wanna see you play with those gorgeous tits.” He breathed out. Making a shiver go down your spine. Your hands went to your nipples, rolling the pebbled nipples in between your fingers. It made you moan and tremble. Bucky’s other hand traveled down, playing with your clit. Hand gripping on his cock, he slowly slid the tip of his cock in you. The stretch made you burn. Your walls stretched and clenched around the tip of his cock.

A slight look of pain appeared on your face.

“It’s okay, doll. Deep breaths. In and out. There, there you go. That’s it… that’s a good girl,” Bucky whispered. You let out a small, little whimper at the praise. Your pussy clenched.

“Gonna play with that later,” Bucky promised you. A pleased noise left you. Clearly and completely in agreement.

Inch by inch. Bucky slowly pushed in. Continuing to play with your clit. While you played with your nipples. You could feel your heart thumping harder and harder in your chest. The pressure building.

“Bucky, Bucky, I'm gonna-” You gasped.

“Come,” Bucky spoke in a gravelly voice. One that made your thighs clench together at the sensation. “Be a good girl and come for me.” His thumb grazed over your clit.

You came with a half-scream. Bucky chose that moment to fully push in. To break that final barrier that was separating the two of you. Your mouth dropped into an O at the sensation of being so filled, so stuffed with his cock.

Bucky couldn’t explain it.

Couldn’t explain how good you felt. Your vaginal walls clenching around him so tightly. It made him grunt, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling.

He didn’t fully pull out. His cock didn’t really leave your pussy. An inch or two, at the very least. Rocking against you gently, whispers of praise in your ear about how good you had taken him. How good you felt around him.

His rocking slowly became faster and faster, gradually gaining a soft rhythm against your hips. You were gasping, moving your hips against his, trying to frantically meet the rhythm he had made. His hand had gone back down to play with your clit again as he watched the expression of pure bliss on your face morph into one of concentration as you chased your orgasm.

“You gonna come again, doll? Huh? Gonna have that pretty pussy clench against my dick?”

Nods.

Frantic nods were coming from you.

“Uh-huh…” you were nodding quickly, “yeah… gonna come Buck.. make me come, please, please, please-”

Bucky completely pulled out. Your vagina clenched around nothing. You cried out in dismay. You had been so close to cumming.

He slammed back in roughly.

You screamed.

Your orgasm nearly ripped you in two. It had been so fucking strong.

You couldn’t breathe. You could hardly focus. There seemed to be a ringing noise echoing in your ears as you caught your breath.

“Doll… look, I’m inside you.”

It was true.

You looked down. Bucky followed your eyes as your gaze went down, lower down as you saw where Bucky’s body was joined with yours. He had shifted, allowing you to see where his erection was buried inside of you.

You could feel it. Every vein of his cock. How good he filled you. Like it just felt right. Like Bucky was right where he belonged.

“You’re inside of me…”

Blue eyes found yours.

“Feel okay?” He asked you. You nodded.

“Yeah… feels… feels good,” you breathed out. Bucky nodded.

“Hold onto me.”

Your hands had wrapped around him, holding onto him as he slowly eased himself out of you. An inch, two inches, at the max. He couldn’t be parted from you long. He just couldn’t. You had never felt so good. So full. Filled to the brim. Slowly and tensely, he rocked against you. A look of pain on his pain when he spoke.

“You’re so beautiful…” The look on Bucky’s face nearly took you out. It made you feel weak. As he looked down at you like he was trying to memorize every look of pure bliss on your face.

Sweat having covered your bodies, he continued to rock into you. Slowly. Gently. Like you were fragile. Every rock having brushed against your clit. Hit your cervix. Little noises came from you as you looked up at him, determined to look into his eyes. Keep that attention.

“Bucky… what about you- shit!” You gasped as his cock his g-spot again, watching as his lips curled into a smirk.

“Wanna see you cum first. You like dirty talk, dollface?”

You nodded.

“Yeah? Want me to paint your body with my cum?”

Nodding.

“Wanna ride my cock next? Climb up and take my cock? Hmm?”

More nodding.

Oh yes. Yes, you wanted to do that.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you were nodding in agreement.

All the while he continued to rock into you. Getting you closer to your third orgasm. It didn’t matter- he was going to give you more.

“Gonna paint this pussy with my cum. You gonna let me fuck this gorgeous pussy and fill it up?”

“Uh… Uh-huh,” you gasped out.

His hand traveled down, finding your clit. Rubbing at your clit. Making your hips rise faster. His rocking slowly became faster against you, pulling out more. His rocking turning into small thrusts against you.

When you came, he didn’t stop.

Nope.

He kept going. Kept rocking against you.

He wanted to fuck you through it. To feel your orgasm with you too.

Bucky reached his orgasm with a grunt.

“Jesus you feel good. Such a good pussy, doll,” Bucky panted against you. Collapsing beside you with a groan when he pulled out of you. Your vagina clenched around nothing.

You were screwed.

Oh, you were so fucking screwed.

A couple of weeks later…

Five weeks.

That was how long you had been avoiding Bucky after you two had sex.

You had just become busy, that was all.

Work had taken up most of your time.

And okay maybe you had decided to take the subway instead of an Uber so he wouldn’t be able to ride with you at your usual meetup place.

You needed the cardio. Cardio was good for you!

Your vagina, however, completely disagreed with you.

Any thought of Bucky made you wet.

Like, really, really fucking wet. You had to slap on one of those thicker pads because you’d leak at any thought of him sexually.

What the hell were you, a horny teenager?

After a few weeks had flown by, you had come to the grisly, heart-wrenching, horrifying conclusion that yes, you had been avoiding one of your best friends from childhood like your life fucking depended on it.

And you felt like a coward while doing it.

You couldn’t explain to Susan and Kate why Bucky wasn’t coming around anymore like he used to. Why every time he was at the door, or whenever he’d text you if you wanted to go to dinner together or something like that you always said no, saying that you were busy with work.

Which, you know, was a total lie.

Thanksgiving had come and gone. It had been the last time you had seen Bucky, and you had hidden in the Barnes bathroom for a good thirty minutes because he didn’t want to see him. After that, it had been in the kitchen, where you busied yourself with helping Winifred Barnes cook the Thanksgiving dinner. Mrs. Barnes had shooed her oldest child out of the kitchen quicker than you had ghosted him over the past couple of weeks.

You felt bad.

You really did.

How could tell him that you were in love with him? In love with Bucky?

Bucky was just… You couldn’t explain it. You couldn’t put into words, how the eldest Barnes family member made you feel. A long time ago, you had deduced it to be a silly crush because he was one of your best friends. That it was a phase that would go away.

But no.

It wasn’t that.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.

This little crush on Bucky had become something more.

More than a crush.

Maybe it had started all the way back in high school when Bucky had gotten with Dot. Maybe there, it had started.

But as you were running through the Stark penthouse, because it was Tony Stark’s annual Christmas Party that he threw every year, ever since high school, you didn’t really want to think about it. When you reached the bathroom. You yanked the door open and quickly was going to slam it shut, but a hand stopped you.

The familiar pair of blue eyes that were burning with anger made you stop in your tracks. Your mouth opened slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was looking at you.

And he was seething. Downright seething.

Your grip on the doorknob loosened due to your shock. You stepped back as Bucky made his way inside, closing the door. He locked it behind him. He looked at you. Looked at the dress you were wearing, with what looked to be the most painful heels on the damn planet. Dressed in a casual black button-down shirt and jeans, paired with his boots, he didn’t quite look anything out of the ordinary.

“We need to talk.”

Bucky…

He was angry.

Angry probably wouldn’t be the right word to explain it.

Mad.

Furious.

Infuriated.

Vexed might’ve been a nice word to describe his current mood too.

“So…” he hissed, “you’ve been busy, huh? Doing what? Avoiding me?”

All you could do was lick your lips as you slowly stepped back. Bucky took a step forward. Your back smacked against the Jacuzzi tub.

“Bucky-”

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He hissed.

His body pressed against yours, keeping you pinned against the tub. Your back was arching, making you lean backward. But Bucky was still looking down at you. Waiting for an answer.

You were taking in deep breaths. You could feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest as you looked up at him.

Suddenly you felt angry.

Very, very angry.

Shoving him as hard as you could, Bucky stumbled backward with a bewildered look on his face. He was surprised.

“So what?”

If Bucky had been angry before, he was very confused now.

But you went on.

“So what if I was avoiding you!” You were shrieking.

“You were avoiding me for weeks!” roared Bucky, beginning to walk towards you again, “you avoided me every time I texted or called you! You wanna know what you texted me last time when I asked if we could have dinner together? What was it again, oh right, ‘sorry Buck, I’m busy. Bullshit!”

He had pushed you back against the Jacuzzi tub again, forcing your back to arch as his body pushed, pressed against you.

“Oh, you want to talk about anger?” You snapped back at him, “try looking, no, try watching one of your best friends get with a chick and then watch them be so fucking cute and wish that it was you instead of her!”

“What?”

You had gone silent. You had gone too far. You had said too much.

“How long?”

“It wasn’t that long,” you hissed back to him.

Bucky was having absolutely none of your tom-foolery.

James Buchanan Barnes was done. D.O.N.E. Done with a capital DONE.

“Tell me,” Bucky snarled, “Tell me. Tell me how long you were interested.”

To which you did not reply. Keeping your mouth firmly shut. It did not help with Bucky’s current fury.

“Tell me!” Bucky shouted.

You squirmed underneath his harsh look. You were still shaking your head no.

“A name. Give a name.” Bucky was switching tactics, still looking at you.

You were beginning to break under his stare.

Bucky shouted your name.

“Dot!”

You immediately covered your mouth.

“Dot… Dot…” Bucky was trying to remember.

“Dot… Dot, back in high school? Dolores?” He asked you.

You could only nod. Tears beginning to show in your eyes.

Bucky finally looked at you. All traces of bewilderment on his face were gone.

Years.

So many years wasted. So many years that he could’ve been with you.

“She was my first. I was her first.”

You stopped. Your lips parted slightly.

It wasn’t that you weren’t curious about Bucky’s sex life. You knew that he knew his way around sex. It was why… why you had asked him.

Your eyes burned. Tears beginning to roll down your face.

“Junior year,” your voice came out hoarse. Bucky nodded, his jaw tight.

But now, you really didn’t want to know how he was in bed anymore.

It hurt too much.

Hands came to grasp your face. To hold you. He looked at you.

And then he was kissing you. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. Nor was it a peck.

No.

It was messy. Wet. Hard. His hands went down to your hips, having a tight grip on you. His tongue curled against yours. As if that was where he belonged. Desperate, hungry noises came from you.

You didn’t know when you fell in the Jacuzzi tub. Luckily for the two of you, it was empty. No water. You yelped as you lost your balance.

Everything happened so quickly. Bucky’s hands traveled, pushed up your dress. His hand traveled behind your dress, finding your zipper. The sound of him nearly shoving it down in a haste was heard. Your hands fumbled with his belt again, like the first time. Eventually, though, you managed to unbuckle his belt, hissing something like “stupid fucking belts,” making him chuckle.

“Shut up,” came your clap back as you pulled his jeans down.

There was a ripping noise. A look of shock appeared on your face.

You spluttered.

“You… you… you… you ripped…” You stammered.

“It was in my way,” Bucky shrugged as if that cleared it all up. You couldn’t help it as your legs subconsciously spread out for him. As if you knew.

You had never been this wet before in your life. Bucky lifted the smooth material of your dress, pulling it over your head. Tossing it to the marble floor, along with his jeans. Your hands went up, clamoring at the buttons on his shirt, greedily unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the floor.

“No bra?” his breath ghosted your neck.

You shivered.

“No.” you shook your head, “I hate that shit.”

“I know.”

He thrust three fingers inside of your gushing cunt, hearing a wet popping noise. You cried out at the sensation.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ wet for me. Just one touch and you turn into such a fucking slut.” Bucky growled, crooking his fingers inside of you, curling against your g-spot. As if he memorized your pussy. You let out a needy whimper.

“Please,” you pleaded with him, looking at him with wet eyes, hearing him let out a dark chuckle.

“Please, what?” he mocked you. “You want me to make you cum? Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, or my cock?”

“Please, please, please. Daddy.”

Daddy.

His dick had never been so fucking hard in its life.

He replaced his fingers with his cock, entering you. Filling you up completely with one swift thrust. Both of you cried out at the sensation.

You came.

Your back arched up, your hips moving up against his. Not quite bucking. Just a graze.

Bucky gripped your shoulders, shoving you back. He pulled out and slammed right back in.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled as he pounded into you, hearing the squishing noises coming from your wet pussy, “such a dumb little needy baby for daddy’s cock. Do you feel that? Feel how good that pretty pussy’s taking my cock?”

“Yes,” you choked out, “feels so good, daddy. So big. M’ so full.”

“That’s right,” he snarled against your neck, his mouth sucking a mark on the side of your neck. “My cock. Only my cock gets to fill your pussy. This is my pussy. You’re mine. Mine. All mine. Say it!:

You broke.

You screamed as your orgasm hit you. Your no longer virgin body clenched around his cock. Clamping around him, locking him in place like a vice.

Bucky didn’t stop. He took a gulp of air as his jaw tightened at the feeling of your pussy, his grip on your shoulders tightening even more.

Still, he continued to fuck you. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, continuously pounding into you, the tip of his cock finding your cervix, hitting your g-spot so good.

“Daddy. Harder, harder, please. Daddy, daddy, daddy-” you babbled, drunk on the feeling of his cock.

Who was Bucky to deny you?

“That’s it,” Bucky snarled as he hit that particular spot that made you scream, “take it. You’re gonna take all I give you. Be a good girl and come on daddy’s fat cock.”

You came again, your mouth dropping open into an O. You couldn’t make any noise. Bucky swore as he felt you coming around his cock again. Looking down at you. Watching the fucked-out expression on your face. With a couple more thrusts, he came. His mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking. A pleased moan escaped your lips as you felt his cum in you. Releasing your nipple with a wet pop, his wet mouth covered yours. Still holding you tight.

The two of you had been so busy making out with each other like a bunch of horny teenagers that you two didn’t hear someone trying to open the door.

“… Seriously?” Tony’s voice was heard from the other side of the door.

“Who locked the door?” Tony whined.

“… Chill Tones, I have the key,” came his now-fiancee’s voice. Steve pulled out the key from the back pocket of his pants and unlocked the door.

Tony screamed.

It was what made you snap out of it, breaking apart from Bucky as you turned to see Steve and Tony at the doorway.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Tony was already on a roll and in hysterics, “I need to bleach my eyes.”

Steve was befuddled. He was looking at you, and back at Bucky. He couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing, huh punk?” Bucky barked out he helped you dress. In a panic, you helped him dress too. He picked you up with ease, putting you down onto the marble floor. He couldn’t help it. He stole another kiss from you with a smirk. He slipped the shredded material of your panties in his front pocket, making your cheeks burn even further with embarrassment.

“Buck!” You exclaimed. Tony made a noise at the back of his throat.

“You two are disgusting,” Tony huffed. You turned to look at Tony. Rolling your eyes.

“Shut up, Stark.” You snipped back. Tony gave you his signature smirk. Holding up his left hand. Showing you a big diamond ring.

Your mouth dropped open.

“Is that why you suddenly came home?” You demanded Steve, beginning to stomp over to your other best friend, ignoring how the bathroom currently smelled like sex, “you popped the question?”

Steve, who had regained his breath, smiled at you. Looking like a Golden Retriever.

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile as he held Tony’s hand, “yeah, I did.”

“Good job, punk.” Bucky walked over to him and clapped him on the back. Smirking.

The little shit.

Eye-rolling.

Steve had rolled his eyes in fondest.

“Thanks, you two.”

“Noooo!”

The three of you looked at Tony.

“I owe Sam money now!” wailed the current Rogers-to-be as he turned around and began running down the hallway, “Wilson! Fuck you!”

You blinked.

“Should I… ask what the hell just happened?” Your voice was soft. Bucky’s hand clasped with yours. As if he had been doing it his entire life.

“Nah. He’ll probably tell us later,” Bucky waved it off. Steve just sighed. “I’m going after him. You guys coming?”

Nodding.

Nods came from the two of you. Steve gave you two a reassuring smile and ran off after his fiancee. Leaving you and Bucky alone.

“So…”

You looked at him.

“So…” You drawled out, matching his tone. Bucky was looking down at you, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Does this mean we’re together now?” Bucky wondered as the two of you walked out of the bathroom, headed towards the elevator, back down to where the party was still ongoing. The elevator dinged as the two of you stepped inside.

“I don’t know,” came your shrug as the doors closed. Pressing the first-floor button, you looked at him. Looked at his sharp jaw. His sharp cheekbones that you probably cut paper. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Do you want to make it official?”

The elevator doors opened with a ding. You two stepped out. Joining the ever-growing crowd of people who were dancing in the middle of the dance floor.

…I don’t want a lot for Christmas… there is just one thing I need… Mariah crooned.

...I don’t care about the presents…

“Is that Mariah?” You wondered as you leaned against Bucky, arms wrapped around his neck as his arms were wrapped around your waist.

“Uh-huh,” came his reply.

“Hmmm…”

“So?” You looked up.

“So what?” You responded.

“So, you wanna make it official?” He asked you again.

Your lips stretched into a smile.

“Yeah,” you said, “yeah, I do.”

Bucky grinned, giving you his boyish smile. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting

[gendercritquinn]

So I’ve been on Tinder and okcupid specifically trying to date Bi4Bi (because who understands us more than we do?) and I’m starting to understand why bisexuals get so much shit.

All I see is bios with bisexual paired with questioning and lesbian….because all those labels can be interchanged.

bisexual women unicorn hunting “for their maAaAn”. 🤮 ……baby if you don’t even wanna have sex with him why do I?

or there are bicurious women just wanting to treat me like a science experiment. Please stop doing that. I love pussy, yes, but I’m a goddamn human being.

[ostensiblynone]

Shane: I don't think I've ever actually dated. Like, in the sense that, like, you go out on a date. I did that once, with one person on Tinder back in Chicago  — not Tinder, OKCupid or something, back in Chicago. Went on one date, it went fine, and she seemed like she wanted to — continue to go on more dates, and I was like, ‘well now I have to actively think of, like, how — where to take this.’ Ryan: Yeah. Shane: And so I just stopped respond — [wheezes] I stopped responding to her. Ryan: You ghosted her? You son of a gun! Steven: Wow. Shane: Yeah, but it didn’t really even occur to me — it was like one of those things where I — Steven: You’re the one who didn’t even believe in ghosts. Shane: I didn't — [makes dumb laugh to respond to Steven’s joke] Ryan: That’s a good one. Steven, you got him. Shane: I didn’t respond for a little bit, and then, after a week I was like, ‘well I can't respond now, it's too awkward.’ Steven: [laughs] Shane: Uh, so you know how like it  — when you put off responding to something, and then it just gets worse and worse, so you’re like, ‘well, I guess this person’s dead to me now.’ Steven: For sure. I know that feeling. Shane: That’s the one time I attempted to date via an app. And then when I moved to Los Angeles, I was like, ‘well, I’ll get on some apps,’ and never went on one date, ‘cause I was focused on my career. Ryan: I actually enjoyed going — planning dates, but that's neither here nor there. Uh.

Here’s What You Do Episode 03 • Flirting And Recognizing Signals [17:30 timestamp] released May 4, 2020

[molagboop]

Ayooo, on another person's notes & views on the Corpius/Z-57 topic. I do like the 'different stages in their life' take on it, but here's another~ Just plain old evolution. Like Darwin's finches. One could theorize that they have the same ancestor, but developed differently due to where they migrated and live. Confusion arises with Ghavoran & Artaria though, 'cuz of Corpius' presence in both locations, in-game & in pictures etc. It's a very wild thought as a whole + where would Z-57 hail from?

If they're different evolutionary strains of the same species, it probably wouldn't be too far-fetched for their territory to overlap a bit. The experiment's four-clawed feet look like they're adapted for climbing or grasping, so if the shell/etc is natural, maybe they live in trees? The best I can think of is that both subspecies could share Ghavoran as a territory, but Corpius lives on the ground while Z-57's theoretical wild type cousins hunt and breed up in those massive trees.

I think a lot of their differences might boil down to genetic tampering, but the hard part in answering either of these ("evolution or life stages?" and "natural or genetically modified?") is figuring out what is genetically modified/indigenous to this or that regional species/a Feature of juveniles vs a Feature of adults. Everything from the way their jaws are shaped to the shape and size of their eyes, plus the bigger differences like the shell/stinger combo vs the naked back and scorpion tail. Those are all things that come into play.

Was the shell given to the experiment by putting scorpion monster DNA in a blender with a bug's DNA, or is this an evolutionary adaptation? And if it's natural, how old is this animal and where does it live, because a shell like that is something I would expect to see on a juvenile if this animal is a predator; the babies could use a buff like that to help them survive to adulthood. If it's of reproductive age and the shell is natural, does it form so the animal can survive until it bangs and dies? Are they like moths? Eat like a caterpillar, achieve metamorphosis, then make a mad dash for Corpius Tinder so you can wait for a hot hunk of meat to lay eggs with and subsequently die as the moths do? Did Quiet Robe raise this wiggly little worm guy until he was old enough to use OkCupid For Beasts, then take the knife to him? Where was Raven Beak during all of this? Did he order this experiment to be done, or was this a personal project for Quiet Robe while Big McChicken was dealing with re-planning the Metroid situation (if Z-57 is indeed a genetic experiment, Raven Beak having an interest in it would track; Dairon is a Mawkin bio-research facility, Quiet Robe is probably not the first scientist to work there, and genetic modification seems right up Raven Beak's alley a la Metroids)? Is it a "he"? Where the hell does this thing even poop from?

Also of note: Corpius is absolutely built, while Z-57 has little twig legs with hardly any beef, but that could also be attributed to a life spent growing up in a lab and maybe/maybe not getting the right amount or the right kind of exercise. Corpius moves around by dragging its weight around with those legs, so of course those muscles have seen some work. Z-57 also has six of them to pick up the slack, so there's a lot to consider.

And that's just scratching the surface: that's only a fraction of the whole picture for the arms debate. We haven't even started talking about teeth.

I went off on a tangent there, but both of the asks related to this post brought good ideas into the fray. I appreciate that you took the time to articulate!

[mosylufanfic]

While You Wait

Another @dailyau prompt!

While You Wait

There was no reason to feel like crap, Caitlin lectured herself as she vengefully stirred her drink. This said more about him than it did about her. Being stood up for a date felt terrible, but it didn't mean she was fundamentally unlovable.

And anyway, he could just be running late.

She impaled the cherry at the bottom of her drink, lifted it to her mouth, and bit it in half.

"Is this seat taken?"

"Not yet," Caitlin said grimly.

The man who'd asked looked sorry that he had. He was young and attractive and very much not her date, unless her date had changed ethnicities and grown his hair long since yesterday when they'd exchanged selfies. "Uh." He glanced around the little bar, which was full other than the seat next to her. Most of them were waiting for a table. The restaurant was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night.

"Sorry," she said. Stop terrifying people, Caitlin, that's no way to make new friends. "I mean, please, feel free."

He hopped up on the bar stool. "My date should be here any minute, so I'll be out of your hair pretty soon here."

"It's okay," she said. 

He ordered a beer from the bartender. "I'm guessing your date is late."

She checked her phone again. "Going on twenty minutes now." No text, no call, no message in the app. Was he just ghosting her?

"Does he do this a lot?"

"I don't know," she said. "This is our first date in person."

"You too? Must be the night for it." His beer arrived and he took a sip. "Cisco, by the way. Cisco Ramon."

"Caitlin Snow." She shook his hand. He had nice hands, she thought. "Did you meet online too?"

"Where else does anyone find love these days? So which one was it? Tinder? OkCupid? The weird one where you don't get any pictures?"

"Oh, no, not Tinder," she said. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with Tinder, I just - I'm not - "

"It's not what you're here for, I get you. Good to know these things."

"I used this new one," she confided. "It's supposed to let your friends pick your matches and -"

"Wait, Friend of a Friend?"

"You too?"

"Yeah, my buddy designed it, so he roped me in. How'd you hear about it?"

"Oh, someone at work who wanted friends to put on it. I'm new in town, so I wasn't really useful to her, but I thought I might try it for myself."

"What do you think?"

She eyed him.

"Come on, my buddy is going to want to know when I tell him about this."

"Are you sure you're not the developer?"

He crossed his heart. "I swear on the ashes of Gene Roddenberry, I had nothing to do with that app."

She shrugged. "It's a nice design. Visually appealing, simple, not cluttered. But -"

"But?"

"The process is really complicated. I mean, you pick your matches, or your friend picks a match for you, and then each match has to get a thumbs-up from at least two other friends before you can contact them, and that's only if two of their friends thumbs-upped you."

"It is a lot," he conceded.

"I would think you'd have the most success if you have a bunch of friends voting up matches for you, and if you're that kind of person, are you really on a dating app?"

He raised a hand. "I mean. Yeah. Not to brag, but I do have a pretty good group of friends. And I use dating apps."

She blushed and fiddled with her drink. "Okay. I'm willing to be wrong about that part. But do you concede, it would be hard to get matches if you have a smaller group of friends?"

He nodded. "Oh yeah, totally. Or friends who just flake out on using the app like, five minutes after signing up. We all told him this, but he seems to think it'll be the next big thing." He shrugged, as if to say that he'd done all he could. 

"So is that what you do? App developing?"

"Me? No, I'm more on the hardware side of engineering. I work for Palmer Tech. R&D."

"Palmer Tech? I interviewed there."

"What, no way! You didn't take the job?"

"How do you know they offered me one?"

"Just a feeling. They did, didn't they?"

"Yes, but I took the position at Mercury Labs instead."

He clutched his heart. "Our sworn nemesis."

She blinked. "Are they, really?"

"Nah," he said. "No more than any other two tech and research companies in this town. I just thought it would be funny to say."

"I wondered if I'd missed something."

"Right, you said you were new in town. Where'd you move from?"

"Gotham."

"Gotham? That's a long way away. What brought you to Central?"

To her shock, she almost found herself spilling out the whole gory story of her romantic disasters over the past few years. Ronnie's death, Jay's betrayal, breaking off the engagement with Julian - She fiddled with her drink some more, swirling the melting ice around. "Just needed a change of scene. Are you originally from here?"

He cocked his head as if he could hear the words she wasn't saying. But he didn't pursue it. "Central boy, born and bred. Ask me anything. You got a coffee shop yet?"

"Just Starbucks."

"Starbucks is okay," he allowed. "But if you want to buy local, you should try Jitters."

"I've seen several locations. I thought it was a franchise."

"They've expanded, but the very first one is down the street. " Something buzzed and he looked around. "Is that you or me?"

"You, I think."

He dug his phone out and read the screen, then sighed. 

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"I've been officially stood up," he said, showing her the screen.

Sorry, something came up at work. I won't make it tonight. Hope you weren't waiting too long. 

She nodded. "Sounds like it." She frowned at his screen. "Is that really the time?"

Cisco made an affirming hmmm, already frowning over a reply text.

They'd been talking for nearly half an hour. Making her date forty-five minutes late.

She dug out her phone, ruminating for a moment before typing, Is everything okay? I'm waiting at the restaurant.

She'd cooled off somewhat, talking to Cisco, but she was still annoyed. Forty-five minutes!

After a moment, her phone buzzed with a reply. So sorry, something came up at work. Can't do tonight.

Cisco noticed her expression. "You too?" he asked.

She showed him the text.

"Welp," he said. "Hey, any chance your date works for the Central City Picture News?"

"No, he works for CCPD. CSI, I think." She raised her brows. "What are the odds that the same event held them both up at work?"

"Pretty good."

She sighed and finished off her drink. "Well, that's that, I guess." 

"Yeah," he said, studying his beer bottle. .

The sensible thing to do would be to leave and pick up a pizza on the way home or something. But she found herself saying, "I don't suppose - "

"You know what we - "

They stopped. 

"You go," he said. 

"I was just saying, Maybe we should go get a table. Together. Since we're both here. Although, if you'd rather leave - "

"No," he said quickly. "No, I want to get a table. That sounds like a great idea." He cleared his throat. "I mean, we gotta eat, right?"

"And we did get all dressed up."

He smiled, slowly. "Yeah," he said. "It'd be a shame to waste that."

She blushed, but smiled back. 

The line had subsided, and they only had to wait ten or fifteen minutes. As the waiter settled them into their table, Cisco said, "Hey you know what would be funny?"

"What's that?"

"If our dates ran into each other at the crime scene or whatever and fell in love?"

"Mmmm," she said.

"You don't think so?"

"Well, it would be a little too neat and tidy, wouldn't it?"

He shrugged and grinned at her over his menu. "It's Central City. Stranger things have been known to happen."

FINIS