#I don't even know if this is coherent but I tried

[chaosartisan]

I couldn't help but think this for the past three days. All of the people that will die and be harmed by this administration. And the reasons they gave to sacrifice their rights aren't even coherent. "Trump is a business man so he'll have a better economy." He's had 4-6 bankruptcies. "Trump will protect our children from those trans groomers." He was friends with both Diddy and Epstein. "Trump will protect our democracy." He tried to overturn the election in January 6th instead of simply asking for an investigation and a recount, unlike Kamala who conceded before we could even request an investigation and recount even though there were suspicious circumstances. They put their hatred, not only above OUR well being but also THEIR OWN well being. Project 2025 has all kinds of policies that will impact everyone including straight white men like the banning of condoms, the firing of government officials in non partisan agencies, the removal of environmental protections, etc.

And if they didn't know all of that, why did they let themselves be ignorant when it came to politics? My mother has been saying "don't talk about religion or politics" but honestly fascism wouldn't be on the rise if we did have honest conversations with people on their beliefs with rational objections and clarifications. I think anyone who voted trump this term was either incompetent or malicious but I'm also of the belief that redemption is possible and if they come to us, we should welcome that.

To the men who voted for Donald Trump today:

When your girlfriend gets pregnant, and you’re not ready to become a father, and you’re forced into a position that cripples you emotionally, financially and irreversibly, remember: you did this.

When your sister’s pregnancy turns out to be ectopic, and she can’t get the life-saving medical care she needs and dies a completely pointless, preventable death, remember: you did this.

When your 12-year-old daughter is raped by her soccer coach — after he’s legally allowed to strip off her pants and peep at her genitals, because the existence of trans kids terrifies you — and she steals your shotgun and kills herself in your garage, remember, first and foremost: you did this.

Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die because of the decision you made today.

You did that.

[tlcartist]

On the matter of Jonathan Joestar

I talked a bit about how JJBA plays around with moral ambiguity with it's protagonists here and briefly mentioned how I'd talk about Jonathan separately and that time has come! There are certain aspects of his personality that I find interesting, but don't often see discussed and I'd like to dig into them a bit. Before we begin I will say that, while I did my best to draw from the source material, this does involve a degree of headcanon so take it with a grain of salt.

Background

The problem with Jonathan is that his character is woefully underdeveloped. This was the result of multiple factors such as, A) Jonathan being the first JoJo and Araki was still developing the story and figuring out what he wanted it to be. B) JoJo pt 1 was a product of it's time and was influenced by works of the period like Fist of the North Star. This was an era of power fantasies and led to stories of big beefy dudes punching things but without much in terms of nuance or broader character development. C) Pt 1 was given a much shorter arc at only 44 chapters and therefore Araki had less time to explore his character than future JoJos. Compare this with Battle Tendency being 69 (nice) chapters and Stardust Crusaders being 152 chapters. Because of all of this we are, unfortunately, limited in what we can glean of his personality from the manga, but there are a couple of things I want to touch on.

Duty vs Concern

While we might not see the type of radical character development from Jonathan that we see in later JoJos, what we do see is a shift in perspective as he matures. This can be seen in his first encounter with Erina.

This is a boy who was motivated less out of an altruistic motive and genuine concern and more out of a sense of duty. This is something he's been taught is the Right Thing for a Gentleman to do. A woman is in danger and a man swoops in and rescues her. It wasn't so much about protecting Erina as it was about being The Hero.

It isn't until he's able to spend time with Erina that he's able to see her as a real person and not just a damsel in distress. While their time together in those early days was cut short, I think it really helped Jonathan to broaden his perspective and sense of empathy. That's not to say that Jonathan was a bad person, he was just a rich kid who spent the majority of his life being a bit coddled, but each new relationship he gained helped him mature.

We see a shift from the young boy playing the role of The Hero because the thought it was expected of him to a man who puts his life on the line because he wants to, because he'll do anything to protect and avenge the people he cares about.

This is a man who has become hardened through the experience of loss and pain, and those experiences helped him to really truly care for others, not out of societal expectations or chivalry, but out of love.

Ironically, it's this growth that leads us to the thing you could argue is simultaneously Jonathan's biggest flaw.

Compassion to a fault

Jonathan is a character whose greatest strength is also his greatest weakness, that being his unyielding optimism. He's the type of person who is always wanting to see the best in those around him and it's this flaw that Dio took advantage of from day 1. Regardless of how much of a little shit Dio proved himself to be in their youth, Jonathan wanted to believe that wasn't beyond the point of redemption. He wanted to believe that there was a small part of Dio that had some goodness, that could experience regret and remorse even when all evidence proved to the contrary. And it was that optimism, that compassion which lead to Jonathan lowering his guard which allowed Dio to seize the opportunity and strike.

This was a quality that we also saw reflected in Jonathan's father, who also had a history of overlooking the glaring red flags in Dario, not because he was oblivious, but because he wanted to believe he'd become a better person. A quality which led to George taking in Dio even though he was under no obligation to do so, and (we can only assume), choosing to overlook any red flags the boy may have shown in his youth.

George's death was the shock Jonathan needed to realize the truth, that Dio was irredeemable and that he'd chosen to strip himself of his humanity long before donning the stone mask.

AND YET

In spite of the loss of his father and countless others during his quest to defeat Dio, there's still a small part of Jonathan that holds a bit of fondness for him, even at the end of all things. Jonathan's strength is that unlike Dio, he chooses to retain his goodness and humanity.

It was the goodness of Jonathan's heart that allowed him to perhaps be the only one who's ever truly known Dio, the only one who's seen beyond his bravado and facade. And it was this goodness that led to their fates being connected forever.

[raiiny-bay]

finished dhes & kel's character pages so here are the lil edits i made for both of em :-)

[dirtytransmasc]

maybe it's because I'm in the "I'm so obsessed and hyperfocused on my little guys I will make any song seem like it's about them even if it couldn't be any father from actually relating to them at all" stage of my Theon and Asha hyperfixation but like...

I feel like 'I bet on losing dogs' by Mitski is about them.

it's about Asha and her relationship with Theon.

he's her baby brother. the baby brother who looked up at her smiled when she had gone in his room, intent on strangling him to stop his cries. he's her losing dog. the dog she keeps fighting for when no one else will. she never gives up on him, not truly, even when he is so clearly doomed, because she loves him, she won't give up on him.

and Theon is, in so many senses, a dog. he's been passed around from owner to owner, home to home, trained and beaten and domesticated, made to behave how his owner at the time sees fit. he's a good dog, a good beaten dog.

and now, in a way, he's Asha's dog. she doesn't want him to be her dog, she wants him to be her brother, and Theon's trying, he really is trying, she knows he's trying, but part of him will always be doomed to be a dog waiting to be hit, waiting for a command, waiting to be trained.

he's her losing dog, she knows it, knows he's doomed, deep down, there's little hope, he'll die a damned dog, but fuck it she doesn't care, he's her blood, her baby, he will be by her side no matter what. she'll always go back for him, she'll always fight for him, she'll always tell him to stay, she'll always give him a chance, she'll always try.

~~~~

[zorilleerrant]

"Everyone's gay awakening was Nightwing," Bernard repeats, like Tim didn't hear him the first fucking time and, okay, back before they were brothers obviously attractive was a descriptor he would've used about Dick Grayson (he can't see it anymore, especially not until Dick stops sending him autotuned videos of people's pets when he said he was busy this week) but it was a couple years before he really thought about that kind of stuff, as much time as he even has to think about it now, and by then they were friends, at least, and it was weird just like it was back in high school.

Oh. He did like Bernard in high school. But it was all in the way of their friendship if it went wrong, just like with Steph, except Steph had a way of convincing him to take he leap, because she's an optimist like that. With Bernard, he needed enough space to figure it out himself, which, well, that was a journey, anyway, not that Tim's ever been very good at introspection. But, like, look at his family - both of them, really - and see where he would've had any examples set for him, so Tim is doing pretty well all things considered.

But the thing is Bern's an optimist, too, always seeing the silver lining and hoping against hope, ready to break down barriers wherever they sit, and if he'd taken Tim's hand, Tim probably would've made that leap. Does it mean something, then? That he followed Steph's lead because she promised it would turn out well, but he needed outside forces conspiring against him to shove him into Bern's arms? Or was it just that they weren't open yet? Does it mean he liked Steph more, and now he's settling? Or he liked her less so he was more willing to risk it, lying to himself about how strong his feelings were?

Oh, god, he hopes it doesn't mean he had a crush on Nightwing, back in those early days. If he suddenly realizes that one of these days he's going to chug an entire bottle of vodka to try to wash it out of his brain, and that's not going to end well. That's going to end with someone coming to rescue him and talk him down, and that's probably going to be Dick, because Dick is the one that's always had those conversations with him. And, in this particular case, that would be - oh, fuck, he can just see that smug grin and he already wants to punch it off of Dick's face.

"Earth to Tim? You okay?" Bernard says, and Tim doesn't even remember what he was talking about anymore - oh, right. He was talking about wanting to fuck Tim's brother. Right. That's why Tim's been speechless for the last ten minutes, except he can't exactly explain, either, because the thing is. The thing is that Bern said Nightwing not Dick Grayson, and the even worse thing is that he was so carefully not saying Dick's name and it was so obvious because Tim's read gossip magazines and watched the news and he knows that look in someone's eye. And it's not like he can call his boyfriend on what he didn't say, that's just mean.

"I think I liked you in high school," Tim blurts out, instead, because here's this memory that's just come to mind: they were changing for gym and Tim suddenly had to turn around, and nothing was even happening, Bern wasn't even taking off his shirt yet, just his jacket, and there wasn't anything to see. But Tim didn't want him thinking he was looking, even though he already wasn't really.

There's a second part of the memory, too, with Bernard running as fast as he can, shirt clinging to him, wiping off his forehead with a hem that was already wet. Bernard was toned, even back then, even before he got into martial arts the way he is now. Tim thought, at the time, he was jealous. How the hell did he think he was jealous? And he calls himself a detective.

"I mean," Bernard says, carefully, with a shrug that isn't as casual as he's trying to make it seem. "I knew I liked you, I just wasn't willing to let myself know that yet. So I projected. Onto Nightwing." There's an awkward smile there as he trails off, and Tim wonders if he's thinking about what it would've been like to hold hands down the corridors, make out by the lockers, go to prom together. Maybe thinking about how, if they did, they'd have broken up by now, and maybe Tim would've dumped him because he couldn't figure out why he had so much chemistry with Steph. Or maybe it would just be Robin stuff, getting in the way of everything. Or, who knows, maybe he'd be dating some celebrity, dressing for the spotlight.

But he's been silent again too long, and Tim tries to recover with, "is it less gay if it's Nightwing?" which is not what he meant to ask at all. He meant to say something sappy, or something heartfelt, or something true. Something that would reassure Bern or something that would make them both laugh or, fuck, anything, really, to get off the topic of his brother that he's not allowed to admit is his brother and therefore can't just offer a horrified look and walk away. Not that he has the energy to be that bothered, anymore, when someone waxes rhapsodic about Dick Grayson's bubble butt or whatever. And talk show hosts definitely know - it's their job to know - that Tim doesn't need to hear that.

"Yeah. Way less. Didn't you hear me when I said it's everybody? You know there's a whole fansite devoted to him being people's celebrity exception," Bernard says, and then, at Tim's look, which he's probably misinterpreting but Tim definitely can't get himself to make any different face about that, "it's not like I was looking for it, okay, it's just a lot of the most interesting - do you know a lot of people think Nightwing might be Kryptonian? Or half, anyway, like Superboy."

"Right," Tim says, wondering who the hell claimed Nightwing was Kryptonian and why, and stands up abruptly to, he doesn't know, put on a movie or something. Anything to distract them from the disturbingness of - what the fuck is a celebrity exception and why would anyone want one? Wouldn't wanting one be evidence of - well, now Tim's just being a hypocrite, because he definitely didn't notice all the men he slotted into his 'we'll just think about them a little extra for no reason' file. "You don't still like Nightwing, do you?"

Bernard gives him the most quizzical look, and then shrugs and makes an ambivalent hand gesture, which Tim is very generously choosing to interpret as an agreement that he no longer likes and will continue to not have a crush on Dick in any capacity, forever. "You're taking this a little personally Tim. I already said, you were the first person I knew who I caught feelings for, and it's not like he's your competition or anything. You'd think you were Robin." And Tim doesn't laugh. He doesn't laugh awkwardly and sit there, or laugh hysterically and leave the room, and he doesn't laugh at the absurdity of the situation and spill everything right there, either. But they are going to have to come up with some kind of agreement about never ever talking about Nightwing ever again.

[youssefguedira]

i feel like i've been defending why i didn't like [REDACTED] a lot lately because i've been meeting a lot of new people and it keeps coming up in conversation. and whenever i talk about it i feel like i keep adding the caveat of a) i didn't say it was bad, i think it's a very well made film that handles its subject poorly in a lot of ways and i just didn't like it and b) i was never going to like it because of problems i have with both the subject matter and the director, so unless it was something completely unexpected it wasn't going to win me over because it's not the type of film i like even outside of all my issues with it. and i do wish people would take that into account tbh

[itstimeforstarwars]

Taking a break from the old mutual's whumptober novella because my old friend is sososo good at whump and emotion and if the boy gets hurt I WILL cry about it.

[nkogneatho]

HOUSE OF ORGASMS

favorite spot at home where jjk men like to fuck you.

— cw: fem!reader, exhibitionism, praise kink, temperature play, water play, hair fisting, cunningulus, fingering, cum eating, slight degradation, breeding mentioned.

— a/n: thank you beyoncé. take me off your list please.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍

Kitchen is Satoru's favorite place in house. He is a foodie at heart. When he comes home from long, draining missions, the first thing that pulls him in is the aroma of the delicious food.

Satoru never announces when he is home. He likes to surprise you by hugging you from behind, hands locked on your tummy. He nuzzles his face in your neck, taking a whiff of your scent.

“I am home, sugar,” he announced. The vibration of his low voice sent shivers down to your core.

“Toruuu. Don't mess with me when I am cooking,” you purred

“mmh hmm,” he chuckled. “and how am I messing with you, my love?” His hands traveled around your body, enticing it more, and stopped only when they reached to your cunt.

“No panties, huh? Were you expecting this?” He whispered in your ear. Your hands trembled as they stirred the soup.

“Wanted to give you easy access.” A giggle escaped your lips, knowing how easy it is to tease him.

“Then let me make use of it, yeah?”

You turned off the stove before Satoru turned you around, picked you up and placed you on the counter top in the middle. You watched him get on his knees, loosening a few buttons of his shirt. He spread your legs apart, licking his lips at your glistening pussy, inviting him for a taste.

“Thank you for the meal” was the last coherent sentence that was heard from his mouth because he spent the next twenty minutes slurping, slobbering and spitting on your pussy. Even if a few praises managed to escape his mouth, they were caught by your clit the way he was trying to speak while being face deep in you.

You watch him unbuckle his belt with one hand to free his strained cock, his tongue not leaving your pussy for even a second. Fuck. His moans were driving you crazy. Your pretty fingers tightened around the white locks of his hair, and that's how satoru knew you were close. He shoved two digits up your cunt as he teased your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue.

“fuck fuck fuck I'm close. Anh! Anh! Anh! Yes toru fuuuuuuuck” you cried as you came all over his tongue. He licked the remnants of your cum off his lips and asked you to clean off his soaking wet digits. The way you started kitty licking them, holding his wrist and slurping on them, made his cock shoot a load on the fabric of his pants.

He looked at you with a pink face, “shit. Tell me if your curry needs some sauce.” You lightly hit him as he laughs it off.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐘

Toji is a possessive man down to the core. Every so often a little too much. Any man who dares to even spare you an innocent glance looks away in seconds when he finds a 6 feet tall figure burying daggers in his body with just his look.

So when the man next building started interacting with you, toji knew what he had to do. Especially, when it’s really convenient that his window and your balcony were parallel. 

“Tojii  please. Someone will catch us,” you cried.

“Let them. I want them to know who ya belong too.” It was too much. Your legs were losing control. Your limp body pressed against the glass windows with your hair wrapped around toji’s fist, he was rutting against you mercilessly.

He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him as he angled deeper into your

“Fuck, you're so delicious, baby. If I could, I would fuck you in front of the whole city so them motherfuckers know to keep their dirty hands off my pretty slut”

He started pounding into you harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the night air as he claimed you with fierce possessiveness. When you tried to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out too loud, toji leaned forward and pulled you into the deepest kiss, making you vulnerable to scream the most desperate moans.

“I hope that pervert’s watching… wishing he could be in my place, splitting you open and making you scream like this.”

He growled low in his throat, the hold on your hips tightening to the point of bruising as he fucked you with ruthless intensity. He felt your pussy clench around his cock, signaling your impending orgasm as you arched your back, your spot craving more for that sweet release.

“Tojitojitojitoji” you cried. You were sure that people saw you two but your brain was so fucked out that you couldn’t care less.

“hmm” he chuckled in amusement. “Looks like lover boy’s watching us, doll. Scream my name more, yeah? Fhhuck-” Your walls clenched around him. You could feel the thick veins as your walls hugged them tightly.

“attagirl. atta.fucking.girl. Just like that baby. Cum f’me”

“tooojiiiii fhuuuuuck” your wails of pleasure echoed through the city.

“I know baby. I know. I’m close too. Keep throwing it back, hmm?”

He threw his head back with a loud groan as he followed you right after your edge, his cock pulsing violently as he filled you with his warm cum.

“Y’er mine… All mine… Never forget it, doll” he sighed in your ears, catching your limped body, trailing kisses all over your back. He definitely had a good sleep that night knowing he would keep his hands off you from tomorrow.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐔𝐁

Suguru is a caretaker at heart. He knows what you need, even when you don't. When you come home, all he wants is to wipe away all your stress.

You walked through the door and the calming scent of lavender lured you in the room.

“Suguru? Suguru, love, I am home.” Amidst of calling him and seeking him with your doe eyes, two large hands appeared on your waist and locked against your stomach.

“Been waiting for you, my love,” Suguru purred in your years with the deepest yet softest voice. “Follow me”

He tugged lightly on your wrist and guided you to the warm bubbly water of the bathtub. The scented lavender candles painted the night with dim yellow. Big hands undressed you, kissing your skin as he pulled each piece of clothing with gentleness. He got in the tub first, then guided you in. The warm water immediately making you feel better. The soft foam enveloped your body as he pulled you against him, your back pressed against his chest.

“Mmm, baby… This is where you belong, wrapped up in my arms” he said as he kissed your bare shoulder blade.

He trailed his fingertips lazily over your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks until they hardened against his palms.

“Mhmm, suguru...” you moaned.

“Shhh… Let me take care of you, love. Just tell me what you want, mkay?” You nodded.

He gently pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers, watching with satisfaction as you arch into his caress.

“I could spend hours just playing with these perfect tits… But there's so much more of you that I need to take care of.” Long fingers started traveling down, feeling the gentle curve of your hips, until they reached the place that was yearning for his touch.

You squirmed when he pinched your clit lightly. “Hmm…sweet little pussy.” He chuckled. “Always so eager for me.”

“Just for you.”

“I know, darling.” He started stroking your folds with his fingers, coating it in your slick, the warm water stimulating your clit more.

He leaned in to capture your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with yours as he put his hard cock in your pussy with increasing intimacy in the warm, soothing water.

Suguru started rubbing your clit underwater, his cock was tucked inside your walls, not moving an inch. He knew he needed you to relax first. You didn't know if it was the water, the ambience, or the fatigue of the whole day, but you were close, sooner than usual. Suguru could feel your body tightening as you held on his arms tightly.

“Sugu…'m close”

“Let it go, baby. Cum for me.” His command sent you over the edge as you orgasmed, hands holding the edge of the bath tub so tightly.

“Good girl.” He praised as you clashed your erratic body on him, chest heaving.

“Wow. That was…"

“Amazing, right?” He kissed your head.

“Mhmm. Now…how about I ride you in here.” You turned to face him as you suggested.

“But you're tired, baby.” Suguru's worried voice melted you.

“Never for you.” You winked at him as you aligned his cock with your entrance once again. Honestly, Suguru gave you a reason to skip work.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

Being a king throughout 1000 of years, Sukuna has grown a liking to sitting on his throne with his thighs spread out and face resting on one of the hands. So, guess how he fucks you? Like the king that he is.

He sits on the couch with both his arms stretched and resting on it, all while you squirm as you struggle to put just his flushed tip in.

He smirked down at you, eyes gleaming with lust and pride as he watches your expressions.

“Need a hand, woman?”

“Shut up, sukuna. Give me a—ngh a s-second.” You scowled, trying to fit him in.

“Sure. Take all the seconds you want. Also," he leaned in, unresting his back from the couch, “… If you want to run your mouth like that, then better do it after you manage to get it in. It doesn't sound convincing when you stutter like a slut.”

He was clearly pushing your buttons, and you were pushing down your cunt out of fury and frustration. And you managed to get it in, moaning out his name desperately, hands immediately falling on his shoulder to maintain balance.

“Easy. Easy tiger.” His hands supported your back. “Hmm…don't hurt yourself.”

“I-I won't. Lemme ride it, kuna.”

“All yours,” he smiled.

He grasped your hips firmly, guiding you to sink again onto his length in one smooth motion

“Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Take what you need from your king”

He let out a low groan as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm that had both of you panting with pleasure, only sukuna wouldn't make it obvious on his face. He is too cocky for that.

“Shit. You're so tight.”

He leaned forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he savored the taste of your moans

“That's right, baby. Ride it good. Make those pretty tits bounce.”

He broke the kiss to gaze at you, his hands sliding up to palm your breasts, teasing the stiff nipples between his fingers.

“Look at you, sweetheart. So gorgeous, trying to be in control. I love watching you take what you want.”

He started to thrust up into you, meeting your downward strokes with increasing urgency as your bodies moved together in perfect sync.

“Fuck…kuna. Too deep. Ah!”

“Obviously. Wanna give up?”

You vigorously shook your head. “No…feels good.” He chuckled at you.

He reached beneath you to rub at your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers of delight through your body. “Come on, pretty thing. Drench this cock with your juices.” You start moving faster, losing your composure as you chase your high.

“fuck. Ah! Kuna kuna yes! Gonna cum. Anh! Anh! Fuck. Aaaah!" You screamed in pleasure as you came, head rolling back as sukuna's grip on your waist tightened as he shot his load in you.

“Fuck! Agh—shit” his thighs trembled. “Take it Take it. Take it.” He growled as he emptied his balls in you. His forehead crashed on your shoulders.

"Shit. Think you ready for a little brat just like you?"

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

Nanami is a classic lover. He believes in change, but he also believes that some things should remain the same. Like how he likes to spoil you with flowers and letters, no matter how cliché they are considered. How he reads poetry to you every night. And how he fucks his cock deep in you on the bed in missionary.

Nanami lifted you onto the bed, laying you out on the soft sheets like an offering to be worshiped

“Ah, darling. You look so beautiful like this.”

He kicked off his pants and climbed onto the bed, soaking in the pretty sight of you.

He positioned him between your thighs as he drank in the sight of your glistening pussy. “Mmm, look at that. So wet and ready for me already.” He mumbled. You covered your face with the back of your hand. “Don't get all shy on me now.”

He lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your sensitive clit to elicit a moan from your lips. “That's it, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you want this.”

He grasped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he slowly sunk into you, relishing the feeling of your tight heat enveloping his hard on inch by delicious inch

“Fuck, baby. Just like always, you feel incredible,” he moaned out.

He started to move, setting a steady, deep rhythm as he claimed you with long, intense strokes.

“Ken…oh my g-god. Feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I love you,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours, “Every inch of you.”

“Love you, too, K-ken—Ah Fuck yes! Right there.”

He seized your mouth in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans as he continued to pound into you with increasing fervor.

“I love feeling you tense up around me, sweetheart. Fhuuck! Knowing that you're com-completely lost in pleasure, mindless and consumed by the need for more.”

He broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, his own burning with raw desire as he picks up the pace, driving into you with reckless abandon

“You're mine, sweetheart. Go ahead. Claim me as you cum.”

He continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements, delving deeper to stroke your inner walls with his girthy cock, coaxing you closer to the brink of ecstasy

“I want to hear you, sweetheart. Say my name.”

“Ken! Ken! Yes, Ken! Make me cum. Fuck.”

You reached your high, and you locked your legs tightly around his waist. Your clenching walls sent Nanami over the edge, and he climaxed with a guttural roar, slamming into you one final time as he erupted inside you, painting your insides with wave after wave of his hot release.

“Ah, fuck yeah. So good, sweetheart.” He crashed onto you like a weighted blanket, chest heaving. “Did you feel good?”

“So good. I love you, Ken.”

"I love you more, darling."

[way-to-go-you-funky-little-blue]

part of what got me started (at least in programming) was the autism hyperfocus but the biggest enabler was just an easy and convenient place to start

like if your easiest place to start is fucking around in Lua using computercraft then go wild

because if you feel like you're getting overwhelmed by something going 'okay to get started you have to install these 15 things, change system settings, and okay all these boxes' meanwhile you just want to Start Somewhere, then that might keep you from actually starting, and it's much better to find something that works than it is to keep yourself from ever actually beginning because of analysis paralysis or anxiety avoidance or something

which leads me to: try Python, it's a relatively friendly place to start, there's multiple online tutorial places for it (though i can't vouch for any one in particular), there's generally a lot less having to go around dealing with fuckery to just get it working, and if you want to avoid installing something to start there's Jupyter and Google Colab that let you just do stuff in your web browser (hell i've even used the latter at uni)

beyond language specifics, one of the biggest things of it (at least for me) is admitting to myself that 'hey i have no idea how to do this' and going and asking questions, whether i'm asking That One Friend Who Knows The Things That Work or just a search engine, or checking the documentation, or even something like stack exchange or a discussion forum about the language

there's also having to understand that it doesn't need to be optimized 100%, like, you can make something that maybe could be faster or could use less memory or could be more intuitive, but don't let your fear of not being good at it keep you from doing the thing, because you can optimize a solution that works, but you can't just deliver a nonexistent solution

i get that there's a lot more to it, and the whole "Excellence is not an art, it's a habit. We are what we repeatedly do." really factors into just, knowing how to do stuff, knowing how to do it quickly, but everyone has to start somewhere, and the time's going to pass anyways, just always have to be ready to learn from it and get better

Hi Maia! Do you have any tips for getting started in programing and Computer Science in general? I've wanted to get into the field but just, don't know where to start cause it all feels like a lot vnv

i always struggle answering questions like this cause like i basically got into this stuff just via autism hyperfocus and self learning that way and forcing my way through it like that, but im gonna post this anyways so maybe people in the notes will have better input!!

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 4 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Nobody is more surprised that Jake asked you to spend the night than Jake himself. But somehow he's sweeter with you around, and every time he touches you, he wants to be the best.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

When you woke up, your body was warm even though you could feel cool air on your face. Everything smelled good, and when you moved a bit, you realized you were a little sore. The distant sound of waves crashing kept you relaxed even as you started to recognize that something out of the ordinary was definitely happening. When you flexed your fingers, you realized you were touching someone else.You jolted a bit as your eyes flew open, and you were met with a handsome face, green eyes and a smirk.

"Morning, Darlin'."

"Jake," you croaked, voice unprepared for the immediate wave of relief you felt when you recognized who you were with. But then you stared at him in surprise. He invited you to spend the night. After he made you come. Twice. After he'd had his mouth all over your body. "Jake," you murmured again, trying to fight the urge to kiss him and see how rough his stubbled cheeks felt now.

He responded by collecting you against his chest so you were mostly on top of him, and he stroked his finger along your lips. "You sleep okay?" When you nodded, he smiled and said, "Me too. Want me to make some breakfast?"

You tried to bite your lip and act cool. You wanted to respond to him the way any other hookup he had sleep over might, but instead you blurted out, "I liked what you did to me. With your mouth."

Jake's smile grew, and he carefully rolled you onto your back. "Is that right?" he asked, bracing himself above you with thick biceps and messy hair.

"Your hands, too," you whispered with a nod, and then his mouth was on yours. You were immediately curling your fingers into his hair and shifting your legs beneath him as he nibbled on your lips. The stubble felt a little rougher than last night, and you desperately wanted to feel it everywhere. 

He seemed to know what you were thinking as he kissed his way to your ear and softly asked, "You want me to do it again, don't you?"

You barely spoke the word, but he was already moving as soon as you said, "Yes." When he shifted the covers, you felt the cool air on the rest of your naked body, and you watched him ease himself lower until he was eagerly kissing your belly button. Then, without hesitation, Jake's mouth was on your pussy, and he was coaxing your legs further apart with his big hands. "Oh," you whimpered, head turning on the pillow to look out the window at the perfectly clear morning as the ocean crashed onto the beach somewhere in the distance.

Was this what it would be like to have a boyfriend? Waking up to oral sex before breakfast whenever you let Jake know you wanted it? Not that you'd be with Jake. But you could probably be with Cooper. Maybe he'd treat you to his mouth just like this. 

Your legs shook slightly as Jake sucked on your clit, and then all coherent thoughts vanished. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he plucked you with his lips, something you had no idea would feel that good.

"You like that?" he asked, swirling his tongue around your clit as you pulled on his hair. "You can tell me what you like. I want to know."

You moaned and let your eyes close as his soft breath teased you. "I like this a lot. It feels better than I thought it would."

Jake chuckled, sucked on your clit a little harder, and then pulled his mouth away, making your legs shake even more. "You like it a little rough," he grunted, and your legs spread open wider for him. "And you're so sensitive." Instead of feeling any shame, you rolled your hips up to his mouth. "Needy, too," he drawled with a grin before licking you up and down.

It was the steady rhythm with just the right amount of pressure that had you whining nonstop, and then your whines turned to loud moans, and then you heard yourself begging Jake to make you come. "Please! Oh my god! Please!" You were so close, gently clenching around nothing, but his unhurried movements seemed to make it better the longer it took. Your heart was pounding and your vision wavered a bit as he worked his tongue up, down and around. But when he pulled your clit between his lips one last time, he got you there.

Your voice sounded raw as you loudly got off, pleasure washing over you until you weren't moving or talking at all. When you cracked one eye open, Jake's green eyes were wild as he looked up at you from his spot between your thighs, and you tried to reach for him. Your arms felt heavy, and you giggled softly as you whispered, "You told me to tell you what I like."

"Yeah," he grunted, cheeks flushed pink as he kissed your thigh.

"Well, Jake, I really, really like getting head. I thought maybe when I came last night that it was a fluke and it wouldn't ever happen again," you rambled. "But then it did, and now I'm thinking you might be some sort of sex god? You can get me off way better than I can get myself off."

"Fuck." 

He was breathing heavily, and that's when you realized he was touching himself. His naked body and hard cock were perfection to look at, but as you sat up, he moved away from you. You licked your lips and watched him palm himself. "Are you going to fuck me now? Should I get my condoms?"

"Darlin'," he groaned. "Just... I need a minute. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Then he vanished into this bathroom.

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

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Jake tried his best to be quiet as he jerked himself off with four strong pumps of his hand around his cock. He was never quite this keyed up around a woman to begin with, and then you had to go and ask him if he was going to fuck you. He laughed at his facial expression in the bathroom mirror. No way he could have fucked you like this. He would have lasted two minutes, tops. 

He couldn't imagine anything worse for your first time than a guy who was so worked up, he came almost immediately. He knew he shouldn't be reacting to you like a teenager with no self control, but you really got him going. As he cleaned himself up, he licked his lips, and he could still taste you there. He could still smell you on his skin.

"No," he groaned, knowing it would be all too easy to get hard for you again if he let it happen. He needed to cook breakfast and reevaluate if he could actually handle fucking you, but when he walked out of the bathroom, you were still sprawled out on his bed, naked and gently trailing your fingers along your tummy.

"I thought you were going to meet me in the kitchen," he said, desperately hoping his bathroom activity wasn't so loud that you knew exactly what he had done.

You turned your hazy gaze toward him as you sat up, and Jake was honestly surprised by how fucking good you looked in his bed when smiling at him across the room. "Can I borrow something to wear? If my leather skirt is impractical for getting fucked in, it's probably not much better for eating breakfast in."

The fact that your little skirt was still on his kitchen floor from last night hadn't escaped him. Neither had the fact that he still hadn't actually fucked you. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. And that starry-eyed expression on your innocent looking face wasn't helping him stay soft.

"Come here," he coaxed, turning toward his dresser and yanking open a drawer. "Pick what you want to wear."

You sashayed over to him, slipping your warm body under his arm when he held it out for you. "Anything I want?" you asked.

Jake nodded as he looked down at your pert nipples and kissed your temple. "Anything you want. And then I'll make you breakfast."

His hand slid down to your hip as you reached for one of his gym shirts and a pair of his athletic boxer briefs with the stretchy waistband, and he grabbed a pair of clean underwear for himself. 

Once you were dressed, you smirked and asked, "How do I look?"

Jake grunted and shook his head in response. The tee shirt you'd selected was one that he tore the sleeves off of, and when you turned in a small circle for him, he could see your breasts through the sides. "Cute," he drawled as you met his gaze. "And I can see your tits, so that's always a plus." When you realized what he was talking about, you tucked your arms against your sides which made him laugh. "You're worried about that now? Darlin', I've already seen and touched every inch of you."

When you tried to duck your head in embarrassment, he reached for your chin and asked, "What do you want for breakfast?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "Whatever you usually eat is fine."

He guided you out of his bedroom as he said, "I hope you're hungry then."

"I actually did work up an appetite," you replied in your sassy tone as his hand slid down to cup your ass. "Maybe you did, too? You were working pretty hard, Jake."

"Have a seat, Smartass," he murmured, pulling out one of the stools at his kitchen island for you. Then he bent to pick your skirt up from the floor and waved it in the air before tossing it toward the couch in the living room. He honestly was a little worn out, and he hadn't even properly fucked you yet. As he turned on his coffee maker and pulled bacon and eggs from his refrigerator, he realized he was already thinking about what you might want to eat for dinner. He also realized he wanted you to still be around at dinnertime, which was an absolute anomaly for him; most women didn't make it to the morning after. 

"Do you need help with anything?" you asked him, elbows propped on the island. He wasn't sure if you were showing off your tits on purpose at his point or if he was just lucky that you happened to choose that shirt.

"Nah. Conserve your energy. You still have a lot to learn."

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

You watched as shirtless Jake cooked bacon and eggs while a pot of coffee brewed. His movements were graceful, which made sense for a fighter pilot, but he was also humming along to some unknown song which made you smile with how intimate it all felt. He even leaned in to kiss your cheek when he handed you a new wine glass full of ice water, and you couldn't help but grin like a lunatic. You were getting the full sleepover experience with this man. 

When he turned off the stove burner and started to plate the food, you said, "You know, you still haven't fucked me yet."

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. "I thought you said you were enjoying getting head."

"I am," you said with an eye roll. "But I was promised a full dicking down."

Now he was laughing in spite of himself as a mug of hot coffee and a plate of delicious smelling breakfast were set down in front of you. "I already told you that you still have a lot to learn about sex."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, you poked at your eggs with your fork. "Please," you scoffed. "It's not that complicated. I've watched porn before."

Jake chuckled and shook his head, shoving a huge bite of food into his mouth. He studied you as he chewed, and then he asked, "So you think that makes you an expert on sex?"

"I mean... the porn I watched was hot," you admitted. "I touched myself and got off. Not that complicated." You blew on your mug of coffee and stole a glance at him as he grunted.

"Nothing wrong with that, but it's inauthentic."

Your eyes went wide. "What? You don't like to watch porn?"

Jake casually took another bite of food before he murmured, "I didn't say that.... I said it's not real."

You let his words circle around your mind as you bit into the perfectly cooked bacon. "But you don't need to have real feelings for someone to sleep with them. Even I know that much."

When his big hand settled on your thigh, you had to suck in a deep breath to stay calm. "I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations. Those people are getting paid to fake multiple orgasms. You don't always get off like that in real life."

"You always get me off." 

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, his fingers were tightening on your leg, digging into your flesh. His pupils were wide, the green of his eyes, fading into neediness. His voice sounded deeper now.

"Time for lesson five: not all guys are the same. Just because I'm more than happy to take the time to make sure you're feeling pleasure, that doesn't mean it'll always be that way." When his lips brushed the side of your neck, you moaned. "I know you like the way that feels. I like it too, Darlin'. But you can't learn what chemistry and intimacy are like without experiencing them for yourself. But not every experience you have with men is going to be a good one. Especially if you don't pay attention to the lessons."

"Okay," you agreed as your lips met his. "I'll pay attention to the lessons."

Jake's lips were gentle and perfect as he returned all of your kisses. "What was lesson five?" he asked as his hand made its way higher up your thigh.

"Not all guys are as good as you are," you moaned.

"Fuck. Close enough," he confirmed, pulling you onto his lap so you were facing him. You knew you'd let him do whatever he wanted to, and you ended up straddling his thighs with your pussy resting right on his cock through two layers of thin fabric. You could feel that he was a little hard, and your lips parted wordlessly as you made a desperate sound. "It's okay," he promised, one big hand sliding down to your lower back as you rolled your hips inadvertently.

"Jake," you gasped, surprised by your reaction to him even after spending the night in his bed.

"I know, Darlin'," he crooned. "I want it, too. But I need you to be patient. Finish your breakfast like a good girl, and then lesson six will start on the couch."

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

Eventually, the two of you finished eating while you shared one seat, and then you started pulling him toward the living room. "I'm ready for my next lesson," you practically sang, but he dug his feet in. He was a little concerned that another trip to the bathroom first was necessary, but he just wanted to get that shirt off of you. It left nothing to the imagination anyway, and he was convinced you were teasing him at this point.

"You don't even know what the lesson is," he reminded you as you came to a stop.

"Doesn't matter. I already know I'm going to like it," you whined, turning so he could see into the side of the shirt.

"Brat," he whispered, reaching for your chin so he could kiss you before you started pulling him toward the couch again. "Lesson six covers masturbation and mutual masturbation."

Your pretty lips were pursed as he held you there, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "What's mutual masturbation?" you asked innocently, and Jake was already twitching in anticipation.

He released you and took you by the hand instead. "You touch yourself. And then I touch you."

Jake dropped down onto the couch, and you stood between his splayed legs, an eager look on your face. "Do I get to touch you?"

Even as he examined you before him, he groaned in need; he'd have blue balls again soon enough, but he needed to stay focused. "Get undressed," he whispered, and you did exactly as you were told. Shit. This was already the most gratifying weekend he could remember. As you pulled his gym shirt over your head, he leaned in closer and kissed around your belly button. Then when you yanked his boxer briefs down your hips, he kissed your pussy. And damn it if you didn't moan his name.

It took all his willpower not to bend you over the coffee table and fuck that pretty pussy from behind, but if you could be patient, so could he. "Turn around," he said, voice deep and harsh, and then he was presented with your ass as you glanced back at him over your shoulder. "Okay, Darlin'. Have a seat."

Jake bit back a groan as you settled onto his lap with your back pressed to his bare chest, and he had to kiss along your shoulder until he had composure. Then he let one big hand rest low on your belly while the other slipped up your soft body toward your breasts. "Spread your legs for me," he coaxed, tracing little shapes along your inner thigh. He kissed the side of your neck as you shifted a bit. "That's a good girl. Now I want you to touch yourself."

"How?" you asked, turning to meet his eyes over your shoulder.

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "However it feels good."

"Okay." You pressed your lips together, and Jake leaned to his left to watch your fingers slide along your skin and down to your pussy. Your head tipped back against his shoulder, and you worked at it for a few minutes, legs barely shifting at all against his. He could feel the muscles in your arm flexing, but eventually you made a frustrated sound.

Jake kissed your ear and said, "You told me earlier that I can get you off way better than you can get yourself off. Why do you think that is?"

"Because you know what you're doing?" you complained. 

"Perhaps," he chuckled. "But you also react differently to a partner than you do to your own touch." He let his fingers trail up from your thigh to stroke your slit as he gently bit your shoulder, and you arched your back in response.

"That feels so good," you gasped. "So much better."

He kissed the soft skin behind your ear and whispered, "You can touch yourself, too." You let your hands settle on your tits, and he added, "There you go. You're an excellent student." He dragged his thumb down over your clit and you jerked in his lap. 

"Do it again," you begged. "Please?" you whined, and he pressed a little harder but kept his pace slow. "I love it when you touch me."

"Fuck." With another gentle kiss to your neck, Jake whispered, "Making you feel good is a pleasure." His cock was once again painfully hard as you ground your ass against him, and he wondered if you'd even notice if he came in his underwear. Chances are you wouldn't if he could get you in that hazy, post-orgasm state again. God, he was already kind of obsessed with that fucked out expression you got after he did a number on you.

When he pinched your clit, you made a sound that could rival one of the porn stars you'd apparently watched, and Jake had to bite his lip. "No, no, no," he coaxed when you tried to close your legs. "Nice and wide, or I'll stop." 

You reacted by spreading your legs further apart when he stopped touching you for a split second, and Jake's lips curled into a smirk as you whined again. Now you were getting wet, further evidence that he got to you as much as you were getting to him. He wanted to fuck you, feel you squeeze him tight while he got you off. Before he knew what he was doing, he had two fingers buried deep in your pussy, and you were gasping his name.

"Jake." Your hands were scrambling to reach for his thighs, and he pumped his fingers deeper. He meant to take his time with you, he really did, but you were too fucking hot, and you trusted him to make you feel good.

"Do you like that, Darlin'?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, back arched, head tipped back against his shoulder. Jake fucked you with two fingers while he stroked your clit with his thumb until he felt like his wrist was going numb. He wanted to suggest switching positions, but he could tell how close you were. He finger fucked you nice and hard, the wet sounds music to his ears.

"Come on," he coaxed, kissing your shoulder as you squeezed his thighs with both hands. Your soft whine got louder and louder, and when you rolled your hips forward, Jake pressed on your clit until you shook against him.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your pussy gripping his fingers, and he realized he was absolutely going to need to excuse himself once again. But you wiggled out of his grasp and turned around on his lap, eyes wild as you panted, still working through your orgasm. He was about to tell you he needed the bathroom, but your lips found his, and he devoured all the little sounds you made.

Your kisses were absolutely fucking filthy, all tongue and teeth, and he held onto your waist with his slick fingers as you had your way with him. "I want to feel you," came your soft whine, and before he knew what was happening, you were reaching your hand into the front of his underwear. "Please, let me touch you."

"No, no, I need a minute," he protested, but you wrapped his cock up in your warm fist and gave him a tug that had him thrusting up for more. "Oh... feels good," he gasped. Then you ran the tip of his cock through your slick pussy while you watched in wonder, and Jake knew this wasn't going to end well if he didn't excuse himself immediately. "Darlin'," he groaned, but you just licked your lips and met his gaze while you teased yourself.

"I know what you did in the bathroom earlier," you whispered, voice dripping with pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him in your hand. "I know you were hard last night, too. I know you touched yourself, but you didn't have to. I would have touched you if you let me. I wanted to."

Jake rubbed his hand over his face before he pulled you closer with both of his hands on your hips. "You're killing me."

You just looked at him, uncertainty in your eyes now as you stroked him slowly through your pussy. "Do you like this? Does it feel good?"

Like the perfect student you were, you'd already learned how to ask him the same things he'd been asking you. "I'm pretty sure I'd like anything you do." Now your smile was sincere, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. He let you keep going for another few strokes before he murmured, "But you need to stop, because I'm going to come."

You gasped and said, "I want you to," before kissing him harder. "I want to make you have an orgasm."

Technically, you'd already given him two orgasms, they just didn't happen while you and he were in the same room. And he couldn't see himself shaking you in time to try to make it to the bathroom now, so he leaned back a little bit and let you watch him slowly lose his composure for you.

"Oh my god, Jake," you whispered, jerking him a little harder with a bit more finesse than he expected from you. Then you gently touched his balls with your free hand and asked, "Are you close?"

"I fucking am now," he panted, head tipped back. He squeezed his eyes closed for a beat, and whispered, "Jesus Christ." Then as soon as he opened his eyes, he was painting up your tummy and your pussy with his cum, and you squealed in delight with a big smile on your face. "Oh shit." 

You jerked him off until he was drained and the mess he made was starting to drip onto your thighs. Then he got to watch you run your finger through his cum before raising it to your lips, and you moaned softly and smiled when you tasted him. He reached up to cup your cheek and guide your lips back to his while he gently removed your other hand from his cock. He wanted to taste it, too. But he wanted to taste it in your mouth.

He was treated to you running your fingers casually through his cum while you lay curled up on him with the sticky mess coating the both of you. He had his arm wrapped around you while you licked at your fingertip and asked him, "Are all penises as big as yours? You look the same size as the guys in the porno. Will you let me try to give you a blowjob? I really, really want to. And when are you going to fuck me?"

He took your chin gently between his fingers again and swept his tongue along yours before kissing you softly to stop your rambling. "Just be patient, Darlin'. We'll get there," he promised with a grin.

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

It's hard to be patient with Jake around just doling out the orgasms. But the dynamic is slowly changing, and he might be the one who really needs some reassurance here. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

@lex-winchester

@schoollover

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@blue-aconite

@mrsevans90

[syluslnd]

Sssooo... thinking of Stalker Sylus the first time he gets to catch MC masturbating...

Stalker sylus catching you masturbating

You had no idea you were being watched, none at all. The apartment was supposed to be your safe space, where no one could see you in your most vulnerable moments. But Sylus had been watching for weeks now, his eyes always on you, tracking every move you made, every sigh, every flutter of your lashes.

Sylus had always thought you were pure, an innocent creature who stirred something primal in him. He'd set up the cameras around your home, hidden in the shadows of your bookshelves, the corners of your ceiling. He was never far, always lurking, always observing.

Tonight, though, was different. You had no idea what you were doing to him. The way your hand slipped beneath the sheets, your breath catching in the quiet of your bedroom. Sylus leaned forward in his dark office, eyes glued to the monitor. He couldn't look away, couldn't believe what he was seeing. His innocent little kitten, no longer as innocent as he thought.

The way you whimpered softly, biting your lip, your cheeks flushed—he watched with a dark satisfaction growing inside him, feeling a surge of possessiveness like never before.

His fingers hovered over his phone, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Sweetie” he typed, the word dripping with that familiar teasing energy. “You know l've been watching, right?”

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you. You grabbed it, heart pounding as you read the message. A cold shiver ran down your spine. He knows?

Before you could even react, another message came through. “I'm on my way to you. Don't move.”

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, a mixture of fear and excitement building inside you. You looked around your empty room, the dim lighting suddenly feeling oppressive, like the walls were closing in on you. You knew he had his darker side-Sylus was dangerous, a man not to be crossed.

But he also had a soft spot for you. His obsession with you had always been more protective than harmful.

What had you gotten yourself into?

A knock sounded at your door mere minutes later, though you hadn't heard any footsteps.

Sylus was always swift, always silent. You hesitated, but the door creaked open before you could even reach it.

And there he was, leaning casually in the doorway, his dark suit clinging to every muscle, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, locking it, his lips curling into that maddening smirk.

"Well, well” he drawled, his voice low and dripping with amusement "I didn't know my little kitten had such a dirty side. How long have you been hiding that from me, sweetie?"

Your breath hitched as Sylus stalked toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your pulse quicken, the heat rising in your cheeks as he got closer, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through you. He stopped just inches away, his presence overwhelming, the air around him electric.

"You weren't supposed to see that" you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled softly, tilting your chin up with one finger so that you were forced to meet his gaze. "Oh, but I did. And I have to say, kitten, I'm not disappointed." His voice was a low purr, dripping with that familiar, teasing tone. "I always thought you were innocent, but it seems l've been missing out."

His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, sweetie" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin "were you thinking about me?"

The question sent a jolt of panic through you but there was no denying the effect his voice had on you. Sylus knew exactly how to get under your skin, how to toy with your emotions and now that he knew your secret, he was going to enjoy every second of it.

"I-" You tried to form a coherent response but his hand had already found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't be shy, kitten” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck. "You don't need to hide from me anymore. I've seen everything." His words were dark, yet there was something comforting about the way he held you, like even in this twisted obsession, you were safe in his arms.

The game had changed and you knew Sylus wouldn't let you forget it

You stood frozen in his arms, your mind spinning from his words, from his touch.

Sylus held you against him like you were his most prized possession-his obsession fully realized. The teasing look in his eyes deepened, flickering between dark amusement and something more primal.

His thumb traced slow circles against your hip, a touch that sent shivers up your spine.

"You know, sweetie" he continued in that low, velvety voice "I've been patient with you. Watching from afar...protecting you." His lips hovered just above yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your skin. "But now, I think it's time I stop being so... subtle."

Your heart pounded, torn between the thrill of his closeness and the fear of how much he knew-how much he'd seen. The intensity in his eyes, the possessiveness that radiated off him-it was overwhelming.

"Sylus, please" you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for. A part of you wanted him to stop, to give you space to think, but another part, the part he was awakening with every word, with every slow caress, wanted to give in. You could see the hunger in his eyes-the need to own every part of you.

His lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

"Please? You're going to have to be more specific than that, kitten. Do you want me to stop?" His fingers slid up to your chin, forcing you to look at him again, to confront the heat in his gaze.

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you with every beat of your heart. You should tell him to stop, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his. It was maddening.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, so close that the air between you felt like a spark about to ignite. But he didn't kiss you. Not yet. Instead, he held you there, teasing, making you wait.

"You're mine” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper, "whether you admit it or not." His eyes darkened, his hand tightening slightly around your waist as if to make the point clear. "And now that l've seen how much you want me... well, kitten, there's no turning back."

A shiver ran through you, but this time, it wasn't just fear. It was anticipation. Sylus had seen everything-your vulnerability, your desires—and now he wasn't just your protector, your stalker. He was the one thing you couldn't run from.

Without warning, his lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and claiming. It was everything you'd feared, everything you'd secretly craved. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he deepened the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, you were left gasping, your body trembling under the weight of what had just happened. He looked down at you with that smug, satisfied grin, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

"You'll never be able to hide from me, sweetie," he said softly, almost sweetly, but there was that edge to his voice, a dark promise laced within the words. "I'll always know what you're doing, what you're thinking."

His hand slid up your arm, fingers brushing against your neck, making you shiver. "And next time," he whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you won't be playing with yourself alone. You'll be mine. Completely."

The room felt heavy with tension, the air thick with the weight of his words. You knew Sylus was serious. There was no escaping him, not now, not after this.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn't want to escape at all.

[rafey-baby]

hidden 4

cw: hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, mentions of murder and violence, a surprise in the grocery store, smut: dub-con (!), fingering, p-in-v, unprotected sex, size kink

wc: 2.7k

it's here! hope u enjoy xx

(also this is probably the last part unless i get a crazy continuation idea cause i feel like it makes sense to end it here?) edit: there will be one more part!!

part 1 part 2 part 3 & part 5

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

“A picture provided by a passer-by has led us to believe that Rafe Cameron, a suspect for the murder of a police officer is still on the island and has possibly been in contact with the witness who now wants to withdraw his statement, not wanting to testify in court due to personal reasons. However, the investigation is still ongoing and Cameron remains the main suspect which means that if you have any information about his whereabouts please do not hesitate to—” 

Rafe twists the car radio off with a scoff.  

“The fuck they're gonna do with a blurry photo? Unless they find another witness or some actual proof, they don’t have shit on me,” he mutters more to himself than her as he yanks open the door and lets it slam closed; leaving her to scramble after his exasperated steps through the grocery store parking lot.  

She doesn’t know how Rafe managed to discover the name of the witness or why a few days ago she sat in his truck parked outside the poor guy’s home keeping watch, but at this point she’s decided that the universe simply must have something against her peace of mind.  

When she asked about his visit, he simply shrugged it off with a ’Don’t worry about it, s’all good. Just had a little talk with him’ which honestly made unease settle into the bottom of her stomach because it was most definitely not the entire truth.  

For the following days, she tried her very best to avoid his intimidating presence as to not give him a reason to get mad at her while he made several phone calls and took care of business. However, acting as if he wasn’t there wasn’t the easiest task since her house, despite the cozy atmosphere, isn’t very grand.  

Whenever she'd try to find sleep in her soft sheets, his heavy presence in the next room would send a shiver up her spine and erase any prospects of getting rest. And when she’d try to cook dinner, he’d be looming way too close for comfort and make her accidentally drop a pan on her kitchen floor. Therefore, she's not exactly feeling her best. 

As they step through the sliding doors, Rafe is hiding under black sunglasses and an old baseball cap he borrowed (stole) from her; trying to keep a low profile and appear as ordinary as any casual customer shopping for essentials since he’s practically emptied her fridge at this point. 

“Do you want red or green grapes?” She inquires as she peers down at the fruit. 

“Don't really give a shit. Just get both,” he grumbles out, seemingly all too aware of his surroundings; antsy to just get out of the store already. 

“That’s not very helpful,” she complains quietly as she decides on the green ones and pushes the shopping cart forward with Rafe close behind.  

And she’s all too preoccupied by picking out what she wants for breakfast when all of a sudden, he grabs her face in his big palms and presses his lips against hers.  

She lets out a surprised noise that gets swallowed up by him as he slots their mouths together while her entire body tenses up in response to him pushing her against the shelves that display different types of bagels. 

She’s momentarily disconcerted, doesn’t remember the last time she’s been kissed like this; all rough and inconsiderate. And maybe that’s why she’s beginning to feel light-headed; every coherent thought wiped away because him kissing her makes absolutely no sense. Therefore, she doesn’t even realize she’s reciprocating the kiss before her distracted mind stirs awake and soon enough, she’s pulling away with creased brows. 

“Rafe, what the—”  

However, she’s interrupted by the hollow of his hand plastering over her mouth.  

“Shut up,” he hisses lowly, eyes alarmed and shoulders tense.  

She’s about to protest before he nods towards a couple of officers a few feet away from them; apparently having just passed them. They’re strolling through the aisle leisurely, chatting freely and not paying them any mind because why would they do anything except roll their eyes at a lovey-dovey couple making out next to the organic whole wheat toast?  

Oh.  

She can’t believe she didn’t notice them; figuring that if she was the one running from the cops, she wouldn’t last a day. Before her brain has the chance to catch up and command her to scream for help though, she feels the barrel of his gun poking at her chest, forcing the desperate pleads to die out on her tongue.  

She stares into threatening larimar and blinks; too frightened to even inhale too loud. Neither of them move until the policemen have rounded the corner and leaving them the only people standing in the bread aisle.  

And he doesn’t think too much of the kiss, simply a means for him to stay under the radar but unfortunately her head turns into a blank piece of paper, not able to say a word until they’re walking the grass-covered steps to her threshold.  

“Why would you do that?” She’s fuming as he locks the front door. 

“Was just tryin’ not to blow my cover, calm down,” he grumbles out and sets down the grocery bags.  

“By kissing me?” She snaps in exasperation.  

“Yeah, well there wasn’t exactly time to think about anything else,” he seems so nonchalant about all this, as if he doesn’t care one bit. She figures he doesn’t because it seems that for him it’s the most tedious thing in the world to consider other people’s feelings for one second.  

Maybe she didn’t want him to kiss her, of all things. Didn’t want him to make the muddy thoughts brewing beneath the surface of her sanity any louder than they already were. Because despite how hard she’s trying to convince herself that him shoving her around and walking around her house as if he owns it doesn’t affect her, it wouldn’t change the fact that something about his dominating presence is slowly but surely making her grow curious.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She drops her keys to the ceramic bowl in her hallway, walking towards the living room; wanting to put as much distance between them as possible in order to have some space to think.  

“I mean, it’s not like you seemed to mind too much, you did kiss me back,” he points out as heavy footsteps follow her.  

“I was just…in shock, okay?” She turns around and her voice is loud, tone frustrated. 

“Don’t fucking raise your voice at me,” he warns her, low and gravelly; making her shiver.  

“And if you were just in shock, then why are you blushing right now, hm?” He takes a step closer to inspect her, too close. 

“I’m— I’m not blushing,” she tries to deny. However, the cherry tint heating the apples of her cheeks gives her away.  

“You’re a shit liar, you know that?” He chuckles, amused. “Bet you liked me kissing you, hm? Just being too much of a stubborn Pogue to admit that.”  

Her dumbfounded eyes stare at him in silence because she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say to that.  

“Usually not into whiny pups but should just fuck some sense into you so you’d wipe that stupid pout off your face, yeah?” He rasps out, looking at her with something devilish glimmering in the aquamarine of his eyes.  

“You’re a fucking psycho!” The accusation escapes past her lips before she has the chance to think about it.  

And at that, he harshly grabs her jaw between rough fingertips; mushing her cheeks together and making her teeth bite into the gummy walls of her mouth.  

“What did you just call me?”  

She realizes her mistake too late.  

“Didn’t— didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” her frightened eyes are wide.  

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He dryly laughs in her face, finding entertainment in her torment.  

“Yes, I don’t know why I—”  

“You gon’ make it up to me?” He asks as he feigns contemplation.  

“What?” 

“Cause I think this fucking psycho ordering you around like a puppy gets you wet, huh? You don’t think I’ve seen the way you look at me?” He lets go of her jaw, tall frame towering over her. 

“I don’t…what are you—” she’s unable to move, trepidation creeping up her spine along with an odd form of intrigue that makes her respiration grow arduous because he’s not exactly wrong.  

“Should we check?” He raises his brows. 

“What— what are you doing?” She tries to take a hesitant step back, albeit uselessly; her back thumping against the wall when he corners her into it. 

“That’s not a no,” he tilts his head at her, mocking her. And then he’s pushing his hand into her pants, past the waistband of her panties and feeling her out; fingertips finding the stickiness already present.   

She gasps, surprised by the sudden pressure against her attention-starved cunt.  

“Huh, look at that. Should’ve known you were a horny fucking girl when I first saw those stupid fake scared eyes, talking ’bout some ’Rafe I’m sorry please don’t hurt me I’ll do anything’ shit,” he raises his pitch to an overly extreme girlish squeak, meant to patronize her, yet somehow, it’s turning her on even more.  

“Bet you’d like that though, if I’d hurt you? Rough you up a little, hm?” His heady breaths tickling her lips is kindling a blaze deep in her tummy; arousing something novel, strange, unfamiliar. 

“Rafe…” she manages out since her head is spinning.  

“That’s right. Say my fucking name,” he’s chuckling as a digit slips down to prod at her opening and slowly pushing in; causing a faint whimper to leave the gaps of her teeth. 

“So fucking tight. Been a while, huh? Not gon’ lie been a while for me too. With all this shit with the cops haven’t exactly had the time to get my cock wet, you know? At this point s’getting a bit frustrating, if I’m being honest,” he rumbles mindlessly, too lost in examining her reactions to his fingers playing with her cunt to care about what he’s saying.  

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t think she’s physically able to form any kind of words at the moment, let alone coherent sentences. His thumb rubbing lazy circles against her swollen clit leaves her dazed and she knows this is wrong, it’s so wrong yet she can’t deny how good it feels to have him touch her like this.  

“Now that I’m thinking about it, haven’t tried Pogue pussy before, wanna help with that?” His low drawl is nearly hypnotizing; her morals turning more and more hazy by the second and evaporating into the tension-filled air surrounding them.  

“Rafe…I don’t—” 

“You’re soaked. When’s the last time you got fucked good?” He interrupts her.  

“I don’t...remember,” she mumbles out.  

“Don’t remember? Shit, Puppy,” there’s a condescending lilt to his pity and she whines when he drags his finger out and nudges it back in again.  

“The guy I was with wasn’t, um, the best so…didn’t really wanna do it again and stuff,” she timidly admits.  

“You’re letting a guy who can’t make you come between your legs? Such a shame. But not really a surprise those Pogue boys don’t know how to fuck. I mean, no wonder you’re so wound up,” the edges of his mouth curl.  

“I’ll take care of it though, make you feel so good, yeah?” His breathy promises try to coax her to give in. 

“Rafe, I don’t know…”  

“Listen, I’m just saying, probably gon’ be here for some time until everything settles and gotta kill the time somehow, no?”  

“But this is wrong, you— you threatened to kill me,” she reminds him and herself with the remnants of her determination.  

“Yeah, yeah, that wasn’t very…nice, but don’t be acting like you don’t want this. All I’m saying here is, you’re the one dripping down my hand right now and really, I’d be doing you a favor,” his crooked logic goes unnoticed by her as she slowly blinks up at him. 

“We really shouldn’t—” she’s interrupted by another digit squeezing into her achy cunt, making her moan out at the sudden stretch. 

“Don’t worry your little head over what we should and shouldn’t do, alright? If you’re worried what your pathetic Pogue friends might think, I don’t kiss and tell. Can be our little secret, yeah?” He grins down at her. 

“Rafe, I don’t think we should…” she tries again. 

“Shh. What did I just tell you, hm?” He hushes her with the expanse of his palm pressing against her clit making her suppress another whimper.  

“Promise to go slow?” She asks without a clue as to why she’s not trying to prevent this.  

What’s wrong with her? She tries to convince herself that she’s only allowing for this to happen because maybe then she’ll finally get him out of her system. 

“Of course,” his conformation doesn’t sound all too veracious when something hungry glints in his eyes.  

“You gon’ let a Kook show you what you’re missing, hm?” He rumbles before he’s pushing her onto the couch and following soon after; mouth sloppy as it molds over her own and tongue warm when it intrudes her mouth. Quick fingers toy with his belt until he’s tugging the zipper of his pants down and making her eyes flicker down when he takes himself out. 

“You’re so big,” her rounded eyes ogle at his cock, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip when she notices how it twitches in his hand in response to her words.  

“Shit, you think it’ll fit?” He wonders out loud, grabbing her hips and dragging her closer with strong arms. 

“I don’t know…” she trails off when he pulls down her shorts by the belt loops before the drippy tip is nudging at her entrance. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” he murmurs and then he’s tucking himself right into her weepy cunt.  

She cries out at the overwhelming stretch as she tries to accommodate to his size; thankful he’s not pushing all the way in yet because she already feels so full she’s not sure how she’s supposed to take any more of him.  

“Fuck, you really are a tight little thing, huh?” He grunts out.  

“Relax, yeah?” He coaxes before his mouth meets her neck; pasting wet kisses and letting the flat of his tongue lave over the sensitive skin there.  

He moves lower as his fingers pluck at the straps of her flimsy top before letting her tits out and taking a puffy nipple between his lips. They moan in tandem when his left hand reaches for the other, trying to loosen her up by pinching it between a thumb and an index finger. 

“Rafe…” 

“What? You want more? I’ll give you more, alright?” There’s almost a primal urge in the way he pushes in deeper; forcing a loud noise to tumble from the back of her throat when he begins to fill her up to the hilt. 

“There you go, taking it like a good fucking puppy, yeah?” He groans against her neck when her nails sink into his back muscles, scratching downwards and surely leaving marks.  

Then he’s flipping her over onto her stomach with one swift movement, pushing all the way in once more; fitting snugly inside as her walls flutter around him. 

She cries out at the new angle his cock is now poking at her insides as he shoves her face into the couch cushions with each jostle of his hips against her. And he’s not gentle, she’s not even sure he knows what the word means as he keeps stuffing her full over and over again; making her see stars when she can almost feel her orgasm on the tips of her fingers.  

“Such a filthy slut, aren’t ya? Letting a complete stranger fuck you like this in your own house?” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he keeps nudging at the spongy spot inside her; her loud moans echoing around the room and she feels so good she thinks she’s gonna pass out. 

“Should stay here for longer, yeah? Just fuck this tight little cunt whenever I get bored, hm?” He pants, mouthing at her neck as his thrusts begin to grow lazy. 

And she has half the mind to agree. 

[paradoxikaa]

a whole lot of whatever

[saturnsorbits]

Stuck Between a Soft Place

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Tit Fucking, Cum Eating, Pictures/Filming. Word Count: 2k.

'Babe?'

Bakugo's voice floats down the stairs, the question in his tone worrying for a man who has always treated even his opinions as facts.

You pause, head cocked. He'll shout again if it's urgent, if not -

'Babe... Babe!'

Officially intrigued, you skip up the stairs and follow his voice into your bedroom.

Bakugo looks up as soon as you fill the doorway, a weary smile tugging at his lip. He's perched on the end of the bed, boxer-clad and supporting a raging hard on that has already stained the front of his underwear. There's still droplets of water on his shoulders, beads from the shower he must have just stepped out of. It makes his skin glisten, his pale flesh almost glowing in the low light that trickles in through the translucent fabric of your curtains.

You fold your arms. 'You best not have called me all the way up here for: that.' Glaring at his cock, you raise your eyebrows as it twitches in response to your scolding.

'No.' Bakugo barks, but no sooner are the words out of his mouth than he's trying to cram them back in again. 'I mean, I -.' The words stick in his throat. With all the blood currently filling his cock, his brain feels sluggish. His thoughts cloud, coherency evading him as he tries to see past the request plaguing his mind.

Shaking your head, you sigh. 'Should have just come down and bent me over the counter again. I liked that...'

Bakugo puffs out his cheeks, knees bouncing under him.

'Spit it out.'

'I want to ask you something...'

'Oh, I can tell.'

'Not that.'

You scoff, hand moving to your hip. 'You don't want to fuck me right now?

'No. No, I do.' He inhales, pecs heaving as he steels himself against the hesitancy that nips at the lining of his stomach. 'If I tell you something, can you promise not to get mad?'

Popping your hip, you flick your tongue against the corner of your mouth. 'Alright. Did you cheat on me?'

Bakugo looks like you've just slapped him. 'What the fuck? No.'

'Go see 'Chako's new baby without me?'

'No.'

You wince. 'Tell Shouto that I secretly hate his new hair?'

'He's going through a phase.' Bakugo chuckles, the tension in his shoulders slowly leaving with each of your questions.

'It's awful.'

'I didn't tell him you hate it.'

Chewing at your lip, you scrunch your nose and pretend to think for a moment. 'Then no, I'm not gonna be mad.'

The air in the room feels hot. It burns Bakugo's skin, making him want to squirm. Clearning his throat, he ignored the persistent pulsing of his cock and begins to speak. 'Sero was talking about one of his girlfriends giving him a tit-wank and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you doing it to me since.'

'That's it?' You bite your tongue to stop the laughter from bubbling up your throat. The words 'tit-wank' falling from your typically gruff boyfriends lips something you didn't think you'd ever hear.

'Fuck off.' Now it's Bakugo's turn to cross his arms. He pouts, lip turned out as he looks up at you through thick eyelashes. He sulks. 'You know I have a hard time asking for shit.'

Stepping over the threshold, you come to a stop between Bakugo's knees. The spread of his legs accommodates you easily, your thighs brushing as you reach out and gently hook a finger under his chin. 'Don't ask then. Tell me.'

Bakugo chokes. It's a struggle to fight the haze that threatens to overwhelm him, but he manages it. Just. You're a vision, all easy confidence and curves, with your tits so close to his face that it's impossible not to stare straight at your cleavage. Dragging his eyes away, he meets his fate head on and submits to the amused arousal swimming in your eyes.

It takes him a moment to reorient himself, to slip from under your spell, but as soon as he does he dons his ego easily. Clearing his throat, he takes your hand from under his chin and grips your wrist. 'On your knees.'

You obey quickly, hitting your knees with a force that makes you thankful for the carpet. Already you can feel your cunt pulse, the tell-tale beating that promises another pair of ruined underwear and a desperation that only Bakugo can tend to.

'Take this off.' Slipping his finger under the strap of your tank top, he snaps the material against your skin.

You hiss, but waste no time. Stripping off the offending item, you toss it behind you and sit up, pressing your elbows together to make your tits sit pretty for inspection.

Bakugo swallows. His cock bobs. Gritting his teeth, he summons all the strength he has as he lets his eyes roam your naked chest. 'No bra, huh? No wonder you've got me going crazy. Look at what you do to me...' He grabs himself through his underwear, a wicked grin turning his lip as he watches the way your breath hitches.

'Can I?' You blink up at him, hands still poised on your knees despite the urge to touch him running through your veins.

He nods and you're on him in a second. You push your cheek against his hardness and nuzzle against the muscle. Desire radiates from him, causing his cock to twitch as you pull back and lick a long, thick stripe up over his clothed erection.

'Fuck...' Bakugo forces his lungs to take in air, curling over himself he watches, besotted, as you drool over him. The tip of your tongue presses to the rim of his clothed head, flicking at him in a way that makes his stomach tighten. Travelling lower, you encourage him to lift his hips, yanking his underwear off and down his legs.

Bakugo’s cock, once free of its confines, slaps back against his stomach. It’s thick, although average in size with a pretty, pink head that leaks lazily down its length. Pre-cum has given his skin a pearlescent sheen, one that begs to be cleaned and promises salt and satiation as a reward. The veins that run underneath pulse. Purpling as they near his base, they vanish, obscured by a thicket of dark blond hair that grows wiry from his groin.

You lick your lips and whine, knowing you’ll have to wait for your treat.

‘Don’t be like that baby…’ Bakugo reaches down and grips your jaw, mirroring your earlier gesture. ‘Don’t you wanna make me feel good?’

You nod. In your shorts your cunt drools. Your arousal pools, dripping down your calves as you sit ad pretty and wait.

Twisting his wrist, he places a thumb against your lips and ruins your pout. He slips the digit into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. ‘You’ll get your taste. Just gotta let me use you a little first, ha?’

You suck on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks as you curl your tongue and lap at the underside of his digit. The impatience in your stomach kicks, but you fight it for long enough to shift forwards and press your chest to his thighs.

His skin is warm against your tits as you cup yourself in cool hands. Stretching out your spine, you lift yourself up until you can lean over and slide him between.

Bakugo slips his finger out of your mouth immediately. The sight is already too much, the feel of your flesh against his a siren call to a premature end.

Leaning further into him, you press your chest to his cock, a literal flesh light that promises to fulfil all of his sordid dreams. You lock eyes with him, forcing him to bear witness, as you gently begin to use your tits to jerk him off.

The first pass feels like heaven. His cock pulses, balls pulling up tight as he fists the sheets beside his thighs. Each joint in his knuckles pale, his arms locking at the elbows as he viciously fights the urge to begin fucking up into you. ‘Fuck. Fuck -.’ He pants, chest expanding as he struggles to take in enough air.

Tilting your head, you smile sweetly and ask: ‘Is this what you wanted?’

His words jam behind his teeth. ‘Yes. Yes. Fuck - y-you feel amazing, doing so good. So fucking good.’

‘Yeah?’ There’s mischief swirling in your stomach as you watch him struggle to maintain his control. His head is thrown back now, the tension clear in the veins that trail over his shoulders.

You love him like this. Lost to himself. To pleasure. Comfortable enough to bare his throat to you.

‘So you don’t want me to do this, then?’ You don’t wait for his response, just let the tip of your tongue peak from behind your lips and lick at the soft crown of his head. Salt explodes across the back of your tongue, soaking into your saliva as you savour him and swallow him down.

Curling over himself, Bakugo feels his entire body strain with the effort to stall his orgasm.

He snaps forward, eyes watching hungrily as you continue to please him. Still, looking at you doesn’t help. You look debauched with bright cheeks and that twinkle in your eye that lets him know he’s done for. He can see his pre-cum coating your flesh, the softness of your tits glazed already with his excitement. Even your tongue, as you slip it back into your mouth, is dashed with him destined for your insides.

It happens quickly then, as he watches the head of his cock engulfed in your warm mouth. The pressure is too much. Coupled with the wink you toss him over the scene - he really should have known…

You flinch as the first lashing of cum splashes against your mouth. Ropes of it follow as it seems to reach everywhere, saturating you. It makes you feel dirty. Claimed. Take a picture…’ You pant.

Bakugo’s eyes almost burst out of his head, his cock kicking violently between your tits. A valiant effort from the otherwise spent muscle.

You lick your lips, careful not to disturb his masterpiece.

The echoes of his orgasm are anything, but fleeting. His stomach is tense, his shoulders too as he wrestles himself into a state of straightness once more… Already the bone deep satisfaction only you can deliver to him is settling in his joints. It makes him easy, bringing back the bite of confidence he’s so used to.

Reaching backwards, he pats the duvet until his phone bounces into his hand. He flips it, flicking open the camera with a practised ease, but comes to a halt when lays his eyes back on you. He swallows.

Bakugo’s been sure of a lot of things over the years. He was sure he’d go pro. Sure he’d be Ochako’s best man. Sure he’d never find a curry better than how his mum makes it. And, yet, he’s never been more sure of anything than you. Emotion tickles his throat. ‘You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. You know that, right? So fuckin’ sexy.’

You roll your eyes.

‘Oi.’ He cups your cheek, forcing your eyes to lock. ‘You’re so fuckin’ hot, you don’t even know… You could have fucking anything, you could.’

‘That right?’

You smirk and he knows he’s in trouble. Bringing the phone up, he snaps a few shots off in quick succession. All of them promising to have him hard within moments. Your tits are soft, cushioning his cock between them. Only the head of his cock peaks out, red and rosy and dripping in cum. It covers the rest of you too, from breast to face. It's even nestled in the groove of your tongue, something you've openly displayed for the camera, coupled with a wink.

Unfolding yourself, you stumble to your feet, helped by a steady palm on your forearm, but before you can escape Bakugo grabs at your ass and waist, yanking you close to him. His nose bumps against your sternum, tongue flicking at your skin as he cleans a streak of his own cum from your body.

You let him, indulge him for a moment and then, you’re lacing your hands in his hair and pulling: Hard. His neck snaps back, crimson eyes blown wide. You laugh. ‘Keep those pictures. I’m going to get a shower.’

He swallows audibly, the click like a gunshot in the ambience.

You unfurl yourself from him and tap the phone in his hand. ‘Oh, and Katsuki… When I get back, we’re gonna make a movie.’

Bakugo groans, flopping back on the bed. His cock twitches, balls tightening again despite the recent release. Already his mind is swimming, the arousal in his stomach making him dumber by the second. ‘You’re gonna be the death of me woman!’

The door to the bathroom shuts, locking your laughter behind it. ‘And you’re gonna love it.’

-> Full Masterlist

[777heavengirl]

lines divined

remus lupin x reader one-shot ! warnings: not rlly pinning but like ig? mention of having kids, fluff i think, i don't think there's any pronouns but lmk if there r word count: 1,820 masterlist a/n: shoutout to the anon that asked me abt my remus wips sorry this is so late and shoutout to my beta reader for putting up w me and this goddamned fic

Remus's fingers traced the lines of the palm of your hand, muttering to himself as he tried to read the lines into coherence. Divination wasn't his best subject, it was based on loose interpretations and it honestly just made his head hurt and his eyes ache like they might pop out of his head as he stared deeply into tea leaves or the palm of your hand. You were quite the opposite, somehow just knowing, divination came easy to you.

"Remus-"

"Hush, I reckon I've got it now-" you stifled a giggle as he referenced the book, his brows furrowing in frustration. "You will live a long life-"

"Yes"

"You will have one chil- no two children" He huffed in frustration as his eyes flickered back and forth between your hand and the book, and you pulled your hand back.

"It's one-" His eyes lifted to lock with yours, his aggravated stare letting you know he wasn't ready to give up but you didn't pay any mind. "Here- give me yours-" You opened your hand towards him and he huffed "Remus give me your hand please" he rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips but he placed his hand on top of yours regardless. The lines were clear to you, you knew where to look, what they meant. It was like second nature. 

"You'll live a long life, Remus," his breath caught at his throat, your finger traced the line on his hand softly. "But these breaks along it," your voice lowered as you spoke, he knew what those meant, it was possibly the only thing about palm reading he knew. You took a deep shaky breath, "The breaks in your life line indicate serious illnesses or accidents-" You looked at his face now, a flinty stare hardening his features. "It doesn't have to mean-" that you were meant to be bitten from the start, you bit your tongue "It could just be a change in life too... you know these things aren't precise"

He stayed quiet, but you could see the sadness swimming in his eyes. "Well- see now, this one," you tried smiling, hoping it would shift the mood. You could always read him so well. Not just his palms, but his thoughts. It was a connection the two of you shared, knowing looks and silent conversations. Even from opposite sides of the classrooms. "This is your heart line, see how its long?" he nodded, his lower lip caught between his teeth "It means you will have a long harmonious love-"

Remus scoffed, but there wasn't any malice behind it. You tried to repress your giggles as you continued to trace the lines in his hand, line after line, mound after mound. From Venus to Mars to Jupiter, your finger moved along the lines and curves of his palm, dipping and rising with the bumps and ridges. You told him all you could tell, the best things at least, because you knew the moon was getting fuller and he got more exhausted and the mere thought of the transformation haunted him. So you did your best, told him of the personality traits that shined through, and ignored the fact that yes, his palm screamed at you that he was always destined to live a life haunted by another self.

"So, to summarize, I was destined to be ill from the womb-" you pushed his arm with a teasing noo, shaking your head furiously as the both of you laughed, “I have great vitality, but will only have one child,"

"Yes to those" You were awfully conscious of the fact that even though you had finished reading his palm, his hand remained on top of yours, warm. You fought the press a kiss on the middle of it, the thought brief but no less tempting.

"And I will find little success in solitude-" His lips maintained a smirk as he spoke, so many people thought he didn't fit in with the Marauders, ever quiet ever innocent. But you knew better, the smirks, the teasing, Remus was a marauder through and through. You knew he was the one to come up with most of the logistics of the pranks anyway. 

"Don't forget the long harmonious love-"

"Ah yes, quite important that one-"

"Indeed I reckon it is," you could feel the heat of a blush start crawling its way up as Remus flipped his hand, the two of you now palm to palm. "Possibly the most important one on the list-" You could tell just from his look, the words floating around that head of his. 

"Oh? you think?" As much as he maintained his lazy smile, enjoying the touch of your hand against his and the way you tried, and failed, to not look flustered, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling much of the same. He wanted to scream at the mere fact that you were divination partners, not even mentioning the delicate touch of your fingers over his palm. He doesn't know what possessed him, but facing his palm with yours made his breath rush out of his lungs.

"no, I know it is," you fought, and lost, to suppress the smile tugging at your lips, his thumb caressing the skin of your hand. 

It was an unspoken thing really. Whatever you had with Remus. You stuck by his side and he by yours, Sirius and James often said you guys were quite scary together, speaking in looks and blinks. Like morse code. He understood you, down to the core, and you understood him. He'd just take a look at you and you'd know the exact words in his mind. 

It was often something silly, the glint in his eyes when James said something idiotic, a small smirk pulling at his lips "what an ass". Or the look he gave you from across the room when Slughorn nitpicked at the contents of your cauldron, "he cant be serious..."

So you knew, when he looked up at you from his palm, the two of you grinning like idiots at each other, exactly what he was thinking. That the light behind his eyes meant he hoped, no he knew, that it was meant to be you. Your smile grew wider.

"Come on losers, time to go-" James stood in front of your table now, class had ended with you being none the wiser. Remus gave you a look, just as Sirius approached as well. "What are the two of you smiling about?"

Remus's grin now matched your own.

He didn't have to say it, you just knew what he meant-

"Idiots"

-

Your relationship, if that's what you'd call it, with Remus was frustrating to everyone but the two of you. You'd do everything together, your friends joked that if they saw Remus they knew you wouldn't be far behind. Somehow you always ended up as partners in class, whether by your choice or not, and if you weren't in the same class, he'd walk you all the way to the door, a small smile gracing his features every time he did. Safe to say your friends were going insane, 

"What do you mean you haven't done anything?" Mary looked like she was about to pull her hair out, fingers threaded around the dark curls. 

"I don't know what you want from me Mary" you were amused at her reaction, the corner of your lips twitching their way into a smile. "We are not even together-"

"But you love each other, it is obvious to everyone you're disgustingly in love!" Mary threw herself on the foot of your bed, a giggle bouncing from your lips at your best friend's frustration.

"I do love him yea," Mary groaned, rubbing her eyes with the pads of her fingers. "And not to be self-centered but I feel like he loves me too"

"Then what's the issue? You don't even hold hands"

"There's no issue Mary-" she groaned again, a small you're impossible slipping past her lips. "Remus and I are just..." you thought about it briefly, you didn't have a physical relationship quite the opposite. But you still felt together. You did everything together, walking to class, doing homework in the common room or in the library, your weekends by the Black Lake, reading under the shade of the trees. You were seldom without the other, often in silence merely basking in the other's presence. It made your chest feel warm and a smile break into your face. "We're just us..."

And that was the truth. You thought about it even after the conversation flowed into something else, even as you made your way down to dinner and, naturally, sat next to Remus. You could tell he loved you, you could tell he was happy. There wasn't a doubt in your mind. Whether it was by his gaze, the light that shone through his hazel eyes, or by the lines in his hands that seemed to match yours but still hesitated to assume. It's difficult to read your own palm after all. But you knew, from the cloudy crystal ball two weeks ago, one that Remus could not see anything through the fog of it. But you could. Clear as day. 

Remus and his light brown hair, the rays of the sun caught in it, an easy smile on his lips, a small child pressed against his chest, his arms hugging the baby close. James and Sirius talked lively with him, hazy in your vision but you were sure it was them. You didn't know what they were talking about, but it wasn't much different from the way they spoke now, full of life, animated and bursting with excitement. And he looked at you, through the haze of the orb, the mist you could see his eyes. Older but happier, a knowing smile.

I love you.

"What's wrong love?" his words were low, but came through even as his friends spoke loudly around you, "you haven't said a word since you sat down-"

His lips had a soft smile, concern swimming in his eyes and for the millionth time in your life, you felt like kissing him. But you didn't. It would come at its own pace. But you returned a smile, an honest one that reached your eyes.

"I'm brilliant Rem," your hand slid over his under the table, clutching it with purpose, with meaning. With care. "Delighted actually" He squeezes your hand now, cheeks warm and red. His hold on yours isn't a hesitant one like the one you shared in divination, it is not the ghost of his palm against yours. No, this one is sure, like you were holding the whole universe between the palms of your hands, between your interwoven fingers. He can't help but smile brightly at you now.

Yes, you were sure he did love you. Much like you loved him.

[nickfowlerrr]

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

--

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

--

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...