#also this almost became 'twenty things' but i decided to stop myself

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch. 8~AU Demon Slayer~

And bounce I did. I felt Kyojuro’s cock twitch inside me as I bounced my body rough and hard on him. I was a twenty-two-year-old college student, I never said I made good decisions. The room was filled with pants and moans as Kyojuro’s grip on my hips tightened.

“Fuck just like that, don’t stop! Don’t stop!” he moaned bucking his hips up inside me at a savage pace. My head fell back as I ground my hips into him hard. Fuck he felt amazing. I feel his body sit up and he leans in sinking his teeth lightly into my left nipple. My body bucked hard as his tongue rolled around my sensitive bud. My arms locked around him feeling my body on fire.

“God!” I cried out as we kept moving together.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me real tight Yara! I was hoping to pull out, but I don’t think your pussy will let me!” he moaned out. He pushed me back onto my bed and leaned up, throwing my leg over his shoulder and pistoning into me. I gripped the sheets in a vice grip. He was so deep. “Shit I don’t think I’d ever pull out anyways.”

His breathing was ragged, and I looked up at him with cloudy eyes.

“The fuck you mean -aah!” I cry out feeling my body moving up and down with his thrusts. I noticed the dark look in his eyes as he stared down at me almost like he was looking into my soul.

“I’ll keep ravaging your body, coating your puffy walls with my cum over and over until you realize that you belong to me!” he snapped his mouth coming to take my toes into his mouth sucking and rolling his tongue over my digits. I groan feeling my body tremble from his words.

“Kyo- please! Don’t talk like that!” I beg. Not only did his words arouse me, but I was also refusing to see it further than just pillow talk. I won’t give myself to one man!

“Why not? Do my words turn you on more? Your pussy is gushing now! I think you want me to keep claiming you!” he pants raggedly, his hip movements became ragged faltering some and his eyes shut tight. “I’m gonna cum.” I whimpered at his words burying my face into the blankets. I feel his fingers come to run sloppy circles around my clit. I yelled out blissfully as the jolts of electricity vibrated through my stomach and into my body. Our moans combined and grew more needy together until Kyojuro finally pushed himself deep into me, holding himself there as he came hard. I felt my walls begin to clench and suction.

“Yeah, that’s right, milk my dick. Take it all.” he said roughly in my ear. He gently humped against me riding out orgasms until he finally collapsed on me. We fell asleep with our heads at the foot of the bed, our own body warmth keeping us comfortable. When I awoke the next morning, my eyes connected with Kyojuro’s skin as he held me close. I let out a breathy sigh.

“Fuck…”

The weekend was spent with all of Kyojuro’s friends coming over and hanging out. I felt suffocated by them since they wanted me to hang out with them as well. I felt it would make things too awkward if I decided to just distance myself now. It was best to wait until school started.

I went to our school’s student service lounge where those who were in student housing went to pay bills or ask for help. I approached the young man at the desk.

“Hi. I was wanting some information about changing to a new student apartment?” I asked. The boy pushed his glasses to his face.

“Okay so usually, our policy is if you want to swap apartments you have to wait until the new semester.” he said. I winced.

“What if it’s an emergency. Something is going on with my roommates?” I asked. I felt a pang of guilt making it seem like Shinobu and Mitsuri were the problem. The boy nodded.

“If that the case, you can go online and submit an urgent student transfer request.” he said moving to write some information on a piece of a paper and hand it to me. “This is where you can go on our student portal to fill it out. Someone will reach out to you in two to three business days about the transition.”

I nod in thanks and turn moving down the hall and tucking the piece of paper in my pocket. As I made my way down the hall, I suddenly feel a soft slender hand snap over my mouth and before I know it I’m pulled inside one of the study lounges. The door is closed and I look over to see Makio and Suma holding my arms and Hinatsuru’s hand slid off my neck. But what really freaked me out was Tengen sitting across the room in the dark like a damn bond villain.

“What the hell, guys! You scared me half to death!” I replied only to feel Makio’s hand roam over my body as if patting me down. “Hey! What the hell!”

Her hands distracted me from Suma’s hand in my pocket which made me gasp as she pulled the note from my pocket. She moved over to Tengen and handed him the paper. I winced as theremaining girls stepped away from me.

Tengen took the paper and looked at it before he leaned forward with a smirk standing up and approaching.

“Thanks girls. Why don’t you give me and Yara a moment alone so we can talk.” he said. The three women smile and each one pecks him on the lips before leaving. I watched in confusion as Tengen now approached looming over me, his hand crumbling up the piece of paper. I was tense at the motion and look up at him as he looked at me with almost disappointment.

“You’re trying to move out of your apartment, Yara? That doesn’t seem like you. Did you and Shinobu and Mitsuri get into a fight?” he questioned. This guy knew nothing about me! I just cleared my throat and looked away not liking his large stature looming over me

“It’s none of your business Tengen.” I said. I feel his hand grip my cheek and force me to look at him.

“Oh? It’s my business when our girls are fighting to the point you want to move out” he said. I wince against his hold trying to push his chest off me.

“Who do you think you are! Let me go or I’ll scream-” I then feel a tight hand around my throat, and I gasp, my entire body freezing up as his dark eyes loomed into mine.

“I assure you screaming will not help you in this case.” he said darkly. Now fear spread over my face and before I knew it, I was face down into the table with his hand firmly on the back of my neck. I whimpered feeling completely paralyzed under the strength of his hand. I feel his other hand on my hip raising my bottom up. “So here’s how it’s going to go? You’re going to answer my question and the longer you take to do so, the more things I’m going to do to you.”

“What- aah” I yelped as I felt his hand smack my right ass cheek.

“I like the way you moan Yara…” he said. Oh I know he was not doing this right now! I feel his hand move around to the front of my pants, unbutton them and unzip them.

“Tengen stop!” I said in panic as his hands begin to pull them down. Suddenly the door opens, and I gasp, wondering who was coming in.

“Oh, good we’re right on time.” Obanai?

My chest tightens as I notice Obanai and Giyu moving around the table, and I shiver hard.

“Wouldn’t want to miss the interrogation.” Giyu said. Was that excitement in his eyes. It was brief but I definitely saw it. I feel Tengen’s hands gently began to rub over my now semi bare ass cheek. It was gentle and sensual.

“Listen Yara, we care about Kyojuro and we know he cares about you. It just seems you need some convincing that we all care about you too.” Tengen said warmly.

“You can’t be serious.” I whispered.

“Like I said… the longer you take to answer my questions the more things I’m going to do to you.” He reminded.

This isn’t happening… THIS ISN’T FUCKING HAPPENING!

----------

Author's notes

I'm trying to decide if i should hold back in the next chapter or just rip the bandaid off and go all out.

Taglist

@nousija

[warping-realities]

A Better Family II

David Evans was having a bad day. The young professor, only twenty-three years old, hated the job at St James, which he had obtained only through the influence of his father, one of the institution's biggest donors. The truth was David also despises his absent father. A father who only cared about how his son's attitudes interfered with the illusory life he tried to maintain, without ever really worrying about the boy, using the money to buy, manipulate and open his son's paths. As a reflex David grew up with a bad attitude towards the world, which extended to his teachers at that same school. But karma was a bitch. David only graduated from college the same way he got that job: through his father's intervention. After that fiasco, the solution to the boy's inability was to work with the teachers that for years he despised as inferior beings. And that place quickly became a torment. Although it was still only on his second day at work, David found former professors willing to make him pay for his para attitudes and students ready to replicate them in him. To top it all off, David's brand new Mercedez just got screwed up which added to his frustration.

"Damn car, damn stupid job, damn life."

"Apparently someone got up on the wrong foot today." Said a bassy voice.

"Ramirez." It was David's only comment as the handsome male specimen approached, Enrique Ramirez the PE teacher, already in uniform for the day and exuding an air of self-assurance and masculinity that had irked David from the first moment. He was used to being the alpha male, but a single glance at his colleague made it clear that here in St. James the position was already taken.

"Car trouble, Evans?"

"That crap just let me down so I was late for work." David replied, taking advantage of the problem to justify his delay in arriving at the service, caused in reality by his total lack of will to be there.

Enrique smirked as if he knew the car wasn't really the reason for the delay, but as a sign of good faith he decided to offer his new colleague some help.

"My father-in-law owns a car repair shop and I worked with him myself during high school, I can take a look for you and try to identify the source of the problem."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Sorry, but I don't understood your comment, Evans." Enrique replied, understanding very well what the other man had inferred.

"Hum... I mean ... you can look... please?" Asked David grudgingly. But taking the opportunity. His father was already irritated with him, if he bothered the old man with that problem he might decide to cut off his funds.

"No problem, let me see what we have here." Said Enrique approaching and opening the hood of the car, only to be hit by a cloud of black smoke.

"What the fuck did you do with the car, Evans?" he asked between a coughing fit.

"I... I don't know. I've never cared much about cars, it's the underlings' job and..." David started to say, stopping abruptly when he saw his colleague's icy expression.

"I suggest then that you find an underling to fix this shit." Enrique replied, ready to withdraw from that company that increasingly displeased him.

"Wait, Ramirez! Hum, Enrique..."

"What?"

"Would you be able to get me your father-in-law's contact? I mean… if he doesn't charge too much."

“Mr Huerta is extremely competent at what he does and will charge you exactly what his service is worth and nothing more. I shouldn't do this given you attitude, but we are colleagues and will be obliged to interact. I'll get in touch with a tow truck team to pick you and your car and take to his workshop."

"Hum, thanks and...ahh...sorry if I was...hum...offensive." David concluded as if he don’t apologize often, which in fact he didn’t.

"No problem, I hope the next time we meet things are better." Said Enrique knowing that it was almost impossible to happen.

"Sure, man" replied David, thinking exactly the same as his colleague.

….

Meanwhile, at that exact moment in Diego's workshop, a beautiful middle-aged brunette wearing was received by the smiling owner.

"Good morning Marina!"

"Good morning Diego, are you coming from the gym?" She said looking at the impressive arms of her boss.

"Yes, I've just finished my morning training. I hope someone shows up for a job interview, we're short of staff, I can't handle the work alone for much longer."

"I'm sure someone will show up. I could ask Nico to help you but…" Said Marina, her smile fading.

"What is it? Is the boy in trouble?"

"Oh, I don't want to bother you with my problems, Diego."

"Marina, I've known that boy and his brother since they were babies. I'm sorry I couldn't help with Miguel, but whatever I can help with Nicolas, I'll help."

"Oh Diego, you are a great boss and a wonderful friend and I really don't know what I would do without you. But I'm afraid my boys have more of their father than I thought. Miguel hasn't been home for months and Nico... he's been with the same kind of company as his brother and... we had a terrible argument! Oh, I'm so afraid of losing them both, Diego." She concluded with teary eyes.

"Marina, as soon as possible I'm going to talk to the boys, both of them, and try to put some sense in their heads."

"Thank you, with all my heart, I…" she started to say, being interrupted by the phone ringing in the waiting room.

"Let me answer the phone, maybe this is good news, perhaps someone interested in the job offer." And she went to her post, discreetly wiping her eyes in the hope that her boss hadn't noticed her crying.

But Diego noticed, there was nothing he didn't notice about Marina. The two had a long history together. She had crossed the border with him so many years ago, but her trip had been longer, she was Brazilian and had gone to Mexico in an attempt to enter the United States. At the border, she met Diego and helped him take care of Melissa during the entire journey. At the time Diego realized that she was interested in him, but his heart was still in mourning for his late wife. When they were already established in the new country, and Diego, ready to try something new, decided to look for her, but instead found her married and pregnant with her eldest son, Miguel, to whom she asked Diego to be godfather. Marina's husband, Marcelo, also Brazilian, didn't like it very much, but Diego accepted the position. And he didn't budge from that.

Shortly after the birth of the boy Marina became pregnant again, but before the birth of her second son Nicolas, Marcelo was arrested for drug trafficking, dying in prison after a gang fight. Widowed and with two children to raise, Marina did what she could to support the household, working day and night, often leaving the boys in the care of Diego or by Enrique's grandparents, since the boy grew up without his parents, who died in Venezuela. Whenever possible Marina returned the favor by taking care of Melissa and the boy.

When Diego finally opened his workshop he hired her to do reception work and the boys were raised as if they were his children. And he knew they could have been, if he'd had the nerve to ask her out. But he didn't, creating several excuses not to do what he wanted most.

Time passed, the boys grew up... and something in them changed, maybe it was Marcelo's bad blood coming out. It started with Miguel, at the age of seventeen the playful boy gave way to an angry young man, the hours spent helping Diego in the workshop replaced by hours hanging around with bad company. Diego tried to intervene only to be rebuffed. And that hurt him a lot. Now it seemed the same was happening with Nico and he didn't know if he could do anything to avoid it, but he would certainly try his best.

"It was Rico on the phone, saying he sent a colleague's car for repairs, apparently the guy is a jerk. But he has money."

"We've dealt with our share of idiots, one more won't make a difference." Diego answered while examining the small metallic disc that he had found in the living room that morning.

"What is it, boss?"

"I have no idea, it just turned up at my house. Maybe Melissa or Rico left it there, I forgot I took it this morning. I’ll talk to them later, looks like our client arrived and he is exactly what Rico told you." He said, nodding at the blond man who was coming down from the tow truck, with an expression of complete disgust on his face.

“Let me take care of him.”

"Graças a Deus." She replied, returning to her work station.

"Hum, who do I have to talk to in this...hum...establishment...?

Diego mentally rolled his eyes as he reached out to the boy, who reluctantly reached out as well, the expression of disgust still present. With the intention of provoking the asshole, Diego put his other hand, the one that held the Reality Warper, on the man’s shoulder.

“ I'm Diego welcome to this… establishment… son."

And thus starting an unexpected reaction. With the contact with the target established and interpreting that phrase from the bearer as if it were an order, the artifact began its work.

Diego's impression was as if time had stopped and he couldn't move, so great was his surprise when he saw the small disc begin to expand and form the metallic structure around David, who tried to escape, but like so many others before him ended up trapped inside the metallic cocoon that would transform him forever. Recovering his voice Diego began to shout:

"Marina! Help…. Marinaaaa!" But she couldn't hear him, because in fact time had stopped for the bearer and for the target, everything that was happening there was out of time and reality itself, as the two dimensions were being altered.

"Boy, boy? Can you hear me? Damn, I don't even know your name... What the fuck is..." he interrupted himself when he saw one of the walls of the structure show the image of a thin young man, reformulating himself to then present the face of a young man with Latin features.

The scare with that was not greater than seeing the walls of the metallic cocoon retract in the small disc, leaving a man totally different from the one who was in his place. In front of him was a handsome young Latino man, tall and muscular, wearing the work uniform from Diego's workshop. Not knowing what to do or how to react, Diego just watched him with an astonished face, about to have the third surprise of the day. The boy opened his eyes, fixing his gaze in Diego's direction and smiled.

"Buenos días, papá!”

“I thought I'd start with Mrs. Angela's car. An old model like that will be hard to find the parts. By the way, I was up late yesterday working on my little project and I think I'm going to need some more experienced hands." Said the man, pointing to a blue 1967 Ford Mustang located where David’s brand new Mercedez used to be.

"Boy... I... what kind of joke is this...?"

"Father, you know I would never play with that, this project has been our dream since I was little. I repeat, I would never play with that, right Marina? Said the man, seeing Marina return from the reception holding two steaming cups of coffee.

"Ah, yes. Ever since you were a little kid you've been talking about restoring an old car with your bare hands. I don't think I've ever seen you without grease on your hands, Dieguito." She said, handing a cup to him who opened an even brighter smile. While she extended the other towards Diego who stared at the two stupefied.

"Dieguito...?"

"Si, Papa?"

"Marina, what's going on here, I... I..."

"Papá, is everything okay?" Asked the man putting his hand on Diego's shoulder who was suddenly invaded by conflicting memories. A cheerful boy, walking beside him, not realizing the risk of the crossing they were making, while Diego held a three-year-old Melissa in his lap, who was talking animatedly with a young Marina, the two laughing and trying to understand the differences between Spanish and Portuguese. The same boy, playing soccer on a makeshift field in their neighborhood and smiling at his father as he tried to dribble past his best friend, a young Enrique Ramirez just as smiling. Then the two boys already teenagers, dirty with grease in Diego's workshop. The two boys playing baseball in high school, the happiness on Diego Junior's face when he found out that his best friend had received a sports scholarship to college, even though he himself hadn't won one. The two wearing gala clothes for the prom, with the boy all happy to discover that his best friend was dating his sister. Then the boy with tears on his face while apologizing to him for not being able to go to college and smiling when Diego told him that he didn't care, that he was proud of him and that he would be the happiest father in the world to have his son by his side at work. The same happiness that shone in the boy's eyes when he received the car he had dreamed of restoring his whole life as a gift from his father, expressed through the phrase "Te amo, papá!" And at that moment Diego fell to the floor of his workshop, with tears in his eyes, scaring those around him.

"Papá, papá! Marina ayúdame aquí!”

“Nossa senhora! Diego, o que houve?”

“No es nada, estoy bien.” Said, Diego getting up and staring into the boy's eyes full of concern, his boy, his son!

"It must have been my blood pressure, there's nothing to worry about. Ah, thank you Marina." He concluded, taking the cup of coffee from the woman's still outstretched hand."

"Papa, I bet you didn't have a proper post-workout meal, let me get something from the market. Marina, keep an eye on him until I get back."

"I'll do it, Dieguito! And you, Mr. Huerta, you can go sit down, and no efforts until your son returns!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"You should be happy, you have a wonderful son, Diego." She said with her sad smile."

"You're right, Marina, I have the best son in the world." Diego replied looking at his boy as he left the workshop.

….

The rest of the day passed in a way that felt both familiar and completely new to Diego. He had all those memories of his son, but at the same time he knew that until that morning the boy didn't exist. That in his place there had been another man, whose name he didn't even know and whose existence had been erased from the face of the Earth. Marina didn't remember anything and even Enrique told him that he didn't have a colleague who fit the description and that nobody in St. James had car trouble that morning. Apparently Diego Jr was here to stay.

Diego wouldn't complain about that, because Dieguito was everything he ever wanted in a son, the boy was strong, funny, smart, hardworking and looked at his father with eyes of total respect and admiration. Diego knew that when the time came, the boy would be ready to take his post at the head of the workshop.

Still, there was the possibility that it would all disappear just as abruptly as it had started. So he spent the whole afternoon locked in his office researching any information there was about the artifact. Aside from a few legends and myths about magical objects, he didn't find anything relevant. Although his research led him to sites with stories aimed at just that kind of situation, and although they were clearly fiction, some were eerily reminiscent of the situation he found himself in. With nothing else to do, Diego dismissed Marina and his son and closed the workshop alone, still thinking about the strangeness of the situation.

When he got home he found Dieguito putting on his gym clothes in the living room and he couldn't stop admiring him, the boy was everything he had wanted all his life and he knew that was how it was because he himself had created him, but there were those other memories where the boy didn't exist, memories that scared him immensely.

His thoughts were interrupted by his son.

"Papá, I didn't see you arrive.... why are you staring at me? Is there something wrong? I noticed you've been acting strange all day..."

"There's nothing wrong hijo, it’s just… just that today I realized how perfect you are!"

"Papá, por favor! I didn't even go to college like Rico, all I do is follow in your footsteps."

"And what more could I want? I repeat, you are perfect, Dieguito. I love Rico like a son, but you are my only son and I couldn't wish for a better one!" Diego replied causing a shy smile to appear on his son’s face.

"Thanks father, hearing you say it means a lot to me!" The man replied obviously happy but at the same time a little embarrassed by that statement. So much so that he quickly changed the subject.

"Papá, something happened today. I didn't mention anything to Marina, but I ran into Miguel today at the market. He didn't seem too well. We talked for a few minutes and... I don't know, something didn't feel right."

"Marina is worried about the boys Diego, Miguel has been out of the house frequently since last year, he hasn't appeared for months and now it seems that Nicolas is replicating the behavior.... tell me, can you get in touch with him ?" Finished Diego, with an idea sprouting in his head.

"Sure, do you intend to talk to him again?"

"I intend much more than that son. Get in touch with the boy and ask him to meet you at the gym." Diego said unbuttoning his uniform shirt and heading to his bedroom to put on gym clothes.

"I can try, but it's not guaranteed, papá. Do you intend to train twice today? Remember what happened in the morning."

"Kid, don't worry about me, worry about embarrassing yourself by lifting less weight than your father."

"In your dreams, old man!"

....

“Are you ready to see how a professional works Dieguito?"

"See those arms, Rico? They are the arms of a true professional, forged with the work of a real man."

With a radiant smile Diego watched his son and his future son-in-law exchange bravado at the gym, as the two best friends had been doing since childhood.

However, he felt that smile fade as he looked out the window and watched a boy approaching. Knowing he was about to do something very extraordinary or very stupid. But that either way could alter that boy's fate permanently.

[go-river-flows]

Welcome back to the Avatar Programme

Part 8 of 13

Summary: I was part of the Avatar programme. Simple as that. Then that changed after the schoolhouse incident. 

A/N: Things are ramping up! To all y'all Wainfleet appreciators out there, you're welcome. I also remembered that one of my friends follows my tumblr account, so hi, Wiktoria! Hope you're enjoying these Avatar based stories! Lol Warning: a lot of fluff(?)

For the next few days, whilst being grounded at Hell’s Gate, myself and two other avatar drivers would play basketball on the court during the small breaks that I had. I was trying to distract myself as Grace, Norm and Jake were up at Site 26. But just focusing on work proved to be difficult as my mind would drift back to them leaving me at Hell’s Gate. I went back to feeling like that 16 year old kid in high school, that no one wanted to talk to or sit with at lunch. But thank god I graduated the same year after being offered a full ride scholarship at a top university, leaving those dumdums in the dust. 

“Come on, Curfman!” Choi yelled at the female avatar. Curfman whooped as she scored another three point throw. Giving me a high five. Choi grabbed the ball trying to dunk it as Curfman and I tackled him onto the ground. “Ow! What the hell guys?!” he yelled out, cursing out as he landed on his tail.

“Get the ball, (Y/N)!” Curfman held him down as I scampered for the ball, throwing it into the hoop from the ground. The ball hit the rim and ricocheted back from the odd angle, making a weird ‘tunk’ sound. I narrowly missed the ball, almost hitting me back. The two laughed at me in hysterics, witnessing the horrible throw.

“Wow! Maybe basketball isn't your strongest suit,” Choi chortled. I groaned, covering my face with my blue hands in annoyance. Before I knew it, I was being hauled up by the two still laughing avatars. 

“You just need more practice…aaaand maybe some pointers,” Curfman reassured, stifling a laugh.

“Thanks, I guess. But I should get back to work, my break is over,” I exhaled. The two patted my back as I left the court, going back to their game of ball.

Trudging back to the Avatar Compound resting area, I laid onto an empty cot and closed my eyes. Waking back up in the cradle, I laid there for a moment before manually opening it from the inside. Sitting up, I rolled my neck and shoulders before heading back to my office, saying a quick thanks to Max and Ruth.

   Entering my office, I sat back down in my chair and resumed my paperwork, then jumped back into the second half of the Dummies guide to Na’Vi. I was mostly done, but added some things I forgot to add in the first half. After that, I went to the canteen to eat. Taking a seat at an empty table, without a drink as usual–somehow they were always sold out whenever I wanted one–Wainfleet would give me his. This became somewhat of a routine as the days went by. Especially since Norm and Jake were no longer around.

  On such days, Wainfleet would join me at the empty table I sat at. On the opposite side of the canteen the other soldiers would stare at Wainfleet, who apparently preferred my company to his friends. To my suprise, he actually apologised for the crude language he’d used as well as his terrible attempts at flirting. Which I was sceptical of at first, but later eased up on. It was nice to talk to him about anything outside of my work and research.

  After finally finishing the second half of the guide, I stopped by Trudy’s samson and asked her to deliver the binder.

“Why don't you just come with me? I'm about to go up for a visit,” Trudy suggested. I thought about it for a moment, “I'll give you twenty minutes to decide, if not, I'll just leave without you.”

  I hung my head before grunting out an ‘okay’. I sprinted back to my office to grab my bag, some instant coffee and snacks that Wainfleet gave me out of the blue, and anything I needed to give to Grace. Namely rare samples she asked for before she decided to go up to Site 26, without telling me. I put my mask on as I returned to Trudy’s samson, bag slung around my shoulder, taking a seat next to her, and we soon took off.

The flight from Hell’s Gate was just as amazing as previous trips out to Pandora. Beautiful and very green, in comparison to the cold and grey Hell’s Gate. Maybe if I had more time, I would've hopped into my avatar. When we approached Hallelujah Mountain, the equipment started to glitch. The flux vortex signalling our inbound as the fog parted. Approaching a floating island, I could see the grey metal of Site 26. Trudy cut the engine as I hopped out the samson. I waited for her so we can go inside together. Opening the first door to decompress before fully entering the interior.

“Hey Grace! Hey Norm!” I called out. 

“(Y/N)?!” Norm poked his head up.

“Hey Norm!” Trudy greeted, “Where’s Grace?”

“Grace is out in her avatar at the moment,” he gestured to the back with his thumb, “But what are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, just a visit, and to give Jake this thing,” I held up the binder, “But I also brought gifts.” I held up another bag in my other hand, approaching Norm, I set it down on the table, to which he dug in.

“Yes! Coffee…and snacks!'' His giddy mood was somewhat refreshing after not seeing him in a week. 

“Don't finish it all at once, it's not just for you. I don't know when I'm coming back, or if I'm coming back,” I laughed, patting his shoulder before trudging to the other side of the compact building. Finding Jake’s wheelchair, I put the binder on the seat before moving to the other side where Grace’s white coat hung from the back of a chair. Taking everything out of my bag, I put it on the table separating the research papers to their respective samples. Looking at her messy table with documents scattered all over. I cleaned it up a bit before returning to Norm and Trudy, where they were chatting about the past few days. We talked for a while before the subject of Lyle Wainfleet popped up.

“Okay, and that's where I'm stopping the conversation. Let's go Trudy,” I cringed.

“That guy has been stopping at (Y/N)’s table for the past few days. I've seen the way he looks at you. The way you look at him. Don't think I didn't notice, (Y/N),” Trudy laughed as Norm’s brows furrowed. 

“I thought you didn't like that guy?” Norm asked, accusatory in tone. 

“Oh come on. He’s honestly not that bad. Sure he’s not Tommy, but…if you look past his crude jokes and actually talk to him, he’s not a bad guy. I blame the RDA and army for that.” The two of them looked at me with blank stared before Trudy’s lips curled up to a smirk.

“Oh my god. You like him,” she said. Norm turned to look at her then at me with wide eyes, as Trudy held eye contact with me. I gulped.

“Seriously (Y/N)? Out of all the guys in the RDA, and you like Lyle…Wainfleet,” he sputtered out incredulously. I facepalmed as the heat started rising in my face, as Trudy started laughing out loud. 

“Let's go Trudy, I'm being serious,” I grabbed her arm as she continued laughing at me. By the time she finished laughing, I had already dragged her to the airlock, whilst in there she looked at my flushed face and proceeded to laugh at me again. We put on our masks and were back out in the Pandoran wildlife. During the flight back she continued to laugh whilst poking fun at me.

  And to top it all off, when we arrived back at Hell’s Gate, as soon as we passed through the airlock chamber and turned the corner I collided into the man himself, Lyle Wainfleet. For a second, my heart stopped. Trudy gave me the look before running off as Wainfleets hand stayed on my waist, from when he steadied me. My face flushed red again. Flustered by his sudden appearance and where his hand remained, combined with the previous conversation that I had not too long ago made me nervous. 

“Hey, you good?” his voice interrupted my rushed thoughts. His face was much closer than I anticipated. I let out what a meek yes, attempting to walk away, only to trip on his foot and he caught me again. God! Out of all the times to be clumsy, why now?! I cringed internally. “Woah, hey now. Falling for me already, sweetcheeks?” he chuckled, staring at my red face. I definitely look like a tomato. 

“Corporal Wainfleet!” a voice boomed through the hallway, belonging to Commander Miles Quaritch. Lyle let go of my waist shooting a smirk.

“See you later?” he quickly whispered. I hesitantly nodded before he ran after his commander, and when he finally turned the corner out of sight I caught my breath and breathed out a huge sigh. People passed glancing at my weird behaviour. Meandering the hallways, my feet carried me to my shared bedroom. As soon as I entered, I collapsed in my bed.

*

For the next few days I would avoid Wainfleet like the plague. I spent most of my time in my avatar at the Avatar Compound, checking on the fresh fruits, exercising, practising basketball (and getting better) or out in the surrounding jungle collecting more samples, or just simply hanging out with the other avatars. At least I was no longer sad about grace practically abandoning me.

  But once that was over, avoiding him in Hell’s Gate was more complicated, especially since he knew all my spots. All the avoiding finally caught up to me when he cornered me in a literal corner one afternoon.

“Just talk to me, what's going on,” he trapped me between his arms, “Why are you avoiding me?” He practically begged. I bit my tongue. Maybe because I was scared? Or was it because I actually had feelings for him? After learning about Tommy’s death, I mourned him. I still loved him. So would it be fair to move on?

“Please? I thought we were friends.  I told you we can talk about anything. But you're making things difficult,” he trailed off, eyes boring into mine.

“I–I…” I hesitated, “I think I like you,” I barely whispered. That was all he heard before he pulled me into a kiss. It felt like all the air was sucked out of my lungs, as he moved closer, practically pinning me to the wall with his body. Lips not leaving mine, he moved his hands to the back of my head. When he finally pulled away, he had the biggest, most boyish grin on his face.

“I think I like you too.”

Part 9

Taglist:

@sleepilysworld @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @wolfmoon8269

@howlerwolfmax @lovekeeho @ducks118

[psifitopia]

my two cents

So, some discussion of Christianity and homosexuality is going down in the salt and light tag. I'm going to give my thoughts. This post is going to be part confession, part comfort, and part exhortation.

This is a hard subject. There are a lot of personal feelings involved, as will be true, when humans are involved. This is going to be a very personal post. I'm not going to use philosophical language. I'm going to start this with three assertions. This is not an outline of what I'm going to say. I just want these three things in your minds, while you're reading this.

I do believe homosexuality is a sin. 2. Homophobia is a real thing and it, too, is a sin. 3. If we want to obey God, we have to give homosexuals the same unconditional love that we give anyone else. We are all sinners, who have fallen short.

I'm fifty years old and my family, both sides, is from Missouri, a very conservative state. I was raised attending Baptist churches. Homosexuality was almost never discussed...and never with anything approaching Christian love. It's important that you understand that.

I have heard family and friends of the family talk casually about violence towards homosexuals, up to and including talk about murder. Mind you, this was never carried out. (They aren't brainiacs and would have been caught). But the violent rhetoric was still there. And, most of these people were bigoted in other ways, too.

In my late teens/early twenties, I became convinced that homosexuality was not a sin. I saw the bigotry around me and couldn't reconcile that with what I knew, or thought I knew, of God. I honestly thought they were using the Bible to justify their bigotry. And, you know? They still might have been. You can use true things to justify garbage behavior.

Now, this conviction was not entirely other people's fault. Part of it was my own sinful desire to engage in fandoms with slash pairings. It excited me, for various reasons. Also, my dearest friend, one I will always love as a sister, came out as bisexual. I didn't want to believe she was sinning. She had always been a strong Christian and I couldn't imagine her going astray.

I spent twenty-plus years writing m/m slash fiction, including erotica.

Then, I got back into church. I found myself surrounded by loving, Godly people. I started not just reading the Bible, but studying it. I spent time with other Christians in small groups. And, I listened and learned.

One time, an elder of our church told a story about an interaction he had with a homosexual friend of his. The friend asked my elder what he thought of homosexuality and was told, "I love you as a brother, but I think it's wrong."

I can't emphasize enough how that hit me. I can not begin to imagine anyone I grew up around, not parents or grandparents, saying that. I can't imagine any homosexual trusting them enough to even ask. Well, no. I can imagine one person in my family being that kind...my late aunt Kelva. My elder's comment helped plant the seed for my repentance and he has no idea. One day, I'll have to tell him.

In June 2021, I decided to stop writing slash. I had already stopped writing porn and using profanity. I wasn't yet convinced homosexuality is sin, but, well. Here's a link to my post at that time, where I explained myself:

I honestly don't know, why God rejects homosexuality. I can make some decent guesses, but I don't claim to know. I don't need to know. I just trust God and submit to His will. But, here's the thing. If you go through your entire Christian walk and never have a moment where you're like "whoa, God, I don't agree with that" or "um, God, really? That doesn't seem fair" or something of that nature? If getting to know God doesn't challenge you? If everything God commands and says leaves you feeling warm and comfortable? You're probably not worshipping the real, living God. You're probably worshipping an image of God that you've tried to remake in your own image. Your understanding is human and limited. That's why the Bible warns us to not lean on our own understanding.

So, yes, homosexuality is a sin. But, we who know the truth have to be careful how we dispense that truth. We have to give love. No one is going to respond well to violence. No one is going to respond well to having abomination screeched in their faces...and these are all things the homosexual community has faced from a Christian community that sometimes has a bad case of i'm-right-itis. Being correct on a point does not justify any and all behavior and we have to stop pretending that behavior doesn't exist.

Here's the exhortation, put plainly. Homosexuals have to admit that same-sex physical relationships are sin. Submit to God. Is refraining from your body's urges really so much for God to ask from you? He's given you everything, including his life. On the other hand, Christians have to start showing homosexuals love and follow the Bible's commands on how to deal with persistent sinners, which is basically leave them alone. Peter and the other apostles were told to shake the dust off their feet and walk away, if a household wouldn't listen to them. Paul told congregations to send members away. Laws were not passed. Politics didn't enter into it. It's only by showing radical love for God and each other that we can shine as lights. And, I know the internet is fairly tone deaf, though entirely, but c'mon. Read your words before posting them. Would you want someone to talk like that to you, even if you were wrong? Well, then.

Now, for the comfort. This is for anyone in the LGBTQ+ community reading this. I love you. God loves you. Your attraction to other people is temptation, but temptation is not sin. Acting on the temptation is sin. You deserve to be as safe in this world as anyone else. You are just as valuable. I'm a sinner by nature, too. Heaven knows, I need a savior and praise Jesus for his forgiveness and love. Don't take our rejection of your sexuality as rejection of you. You are far more than who you enjoy sleeping with. We want you reconciled to us. We just need it to be on God's terms.

[writingmaidenwarrior]

Sin Eaters Part 1

Yeah, I finally made it around to be satisfied with this to post the edited thing of the flash fic piece that sparked this whole new WIP I think I will make a side-blog for this because it will be easier to keep track of my WIPs with WIP blogs.

The whole thing will be pretty dark I am afraid. I also made a new banner because this turned into some sort of golden cage thing.

Tagging @cljordan-imperium for being the mean enabler you are.

Softly Talindra twirled in her dress. Her body tried to handle the fabric while she dug up the memories of the last time, she wore a dress and not the combat clothes that became her second skin for the last years. It seems to be in a different life or a different person.

“You finished admiring yourself?”, Kylantha snickered.

Her friend and fellow warrior stood aside, wearing a dress as well, just like the whole ceremony would acquire of them. Tonight, they would become Sin Eaters and the raffle would decide which horned one they would be partnered with. It was still beyond Talindra’s understanding why they had to dress up in those wide flowing red dresses that revealed too much of their arms and cleavage and rendered them unable to walk fast. At least hers covered more of her breast than Kylantha’s did. It felt almost naughty just looking at her.

“I am getting used to it, that’s all. I wouldn’t go so far as to say, I admire myself.”

“Looked different from here.”

A knock drew their attention to the door. The sheepish smile of Eshfyrr appeared in the small slit after the door opened.

“T minus ten. Move out in one.”

“Got it.”

One last time Talindra and Kylantha checked their hair, to make sure it was put up and out of their faces. If there was one thing, Talindra could do without, then it was her long wavy hair getting in her way. Unfortunately, having long hair was a requirement for the female warriors to become a Sin Eater, the eternals know why.

Only seconds later they walked down the small hallway to the entrance of the huge festival place. The few others who qualified for the Sin Eaters lined up already. A quick count told her including her and Kylantha there were eight warriors tonight. It was good, but there could have been more. The city needs more to protect the people.

Music started and a small light signal went off. The first in line started walking which set the whole group in motion. Three men and five women, all not older than twenty-eight, and the best warriors of their divisions walked into the festival area dressed up like bride and groom.

The night sky shone bright, and the stars would be witnesses tonight as always, to the raffle and the future couples of humans and horned ones who shall protect the city. Talindra knew, it was her job to keep her horned one’s back free so they can react without thinking of being attacked by small opponents. That is what she trained for, what she did those years outside the city limits where the monsters roamed, and the beauty of the night sky could become deadly.

From the other side of the huge place entered the horned ones. Four men and women, all in their tall, muscular, and horned glory, and wearing even less than the humans. The male ones only wore pants with some wide coat over it and clearly no shirt underneath where the female ones wore only wide skirts with short, wrapped tops and all of them were tattooed in black and golden patterns.

Talindra’s gaze stopped on one of the men. She remembered how Kylantha and Eshfyrr encouraged her to sneak into the horned one’s side of the building two nights ago to check out the possible fighting partners and this one caught her eyes during his sparing with one of the other men. His agility and sense for his surroundings appeared to be unmatched even among the horned ones which would make a perfect combat partner. Plus, he was easy on the eyes, what clearly didn’t hurt, and as far as she could make out from afar was none of those stiff, tight-lipped warriors.

The group of horned ones lined up like them in front of the huge screen and waited for the raffle to happen. Even the smallest of them was still half a head taller than the tallest of the humans. Eshfyrr nudged Talindra in the ribs to draw her attention back to the screen but she caught him eyeing one of the men as well. She tried not to snicker at him and looked up to the screen.

The triumvirates stood on the small platform in front of the screen, the magical enhancers in a half circle around them to transport everything they say all over the area. The long speech went over Talindra’s head with her concentrating more on the others and the screen, it was the same kind every year anyway. All of them heard the speech in its essence all their life when they sat at home, and later in the warrior quarters and listened to it on the TV how the “sins” of their forefathers brought the monsters in this world and now they are the last stronghold of humanity and without the horned ones and their strength and ability to eat that rotten flesh of those monster humanity would be long gone and everyone should thank the horned ones for “eating our sins”. Every child grew up knowing this story and how the name Sin Eater for the elite force derived from the strange ability of the horned ones to eat those monsters.

Finally, it was time for the raffle. One by one the names popped up and the people walked up to the platform to meet the future combat partner. Her name was the fourth to be shown. Next to it appeared the name Wynthan.

After the first few steps towards the platform, she looked aside and found the man she had eyed before walking up as well. Talindra frowned and got a wink in return. They took their position next to the others in front of the platform but still far away from the triumvirates. She wasn’t small for a woman but next to him Talindra felt like a young teenager again who still had some growing to do, since she barely reached to his shoulders. On the other side, he was just average height for a horned one.

“Happy with the raffle, little stalker?”, he joked and leaned down a bit more, “We need to talk before we head to our new apartment after the ball.”

“Why?”

“There are things you need to know, and it will be bugged.”

“How do you know?”

“Later.”

Keeping her cool as much as possible, she looked aside to where Eshfyrr stood next to one of the men. Kylantha was next and was paired with a woman. Slowly Talindra started to go through the things she knew about the others and started to wonder how it happened that those who were gay, or lesbian ended up with a partner of the same sex. Her small huff echoed off from Wynthan.

“One of the things?”, she murmured, knowing he would be able to hear her.

Wynthan hummed in reply.

Her gaze went pass the festival area to the night sky again. Everything she had been taught about the Sin Eaters seemed to be built on lies. In silence she wondered if the stars blinking are their predecessors weeping for them.

The fanfares pulled Talindra back from her dark thoughts. All the political and military officials in the ranks around applauded and cheered with their families. The strange feeling like she was an animal sent off to the slaughterhouse washed through her, but Talindra had to push it away for now, no matter how those sudden instincts usually proved her right and secured her survival.

Wynthan next to her offered her his arm with a thoughtful glance.

“Any thoughts you like to share, little stalker?”

“First off, don’t call me that. Even if I like to know how you know I was around the other day.”

He snickered, reached around her back and rested his hand on her hip before talking her hand with his free one.

“Better senses, did you forget? We could smell you. And it is some sort of annually tradition some of the human Sin Eaters sneak out to check out how we fight.”

His hand on her hip gripped slightly tighter as they got the signal to move.

“There is more, isn’t it?”

“You are smart, that is good.”

“The festival area is not bugged.”

Again, Wynthan snickered and looked down at her. There was this sudden pull inside Talindra again, she already felt days ago when she saw him fighting. Something deep that made her trust him instantly.

“No, same for the sparing area and the bathrooms.”

Through the noise of the still sounding applause, she couldn’t hear of the others had similar conversations and turning around would have given away everything. Patience was the key now.

“Why are the sleeping rooms bugged.”

“You won’t like this.”

She looked up to him with the knowledge she put her safety on him for the moment.

“Spill it.”

“You notice the pair ups. The raffle is rigged. We are put together by genetic compatibility, sexual orientation and fighting styles. Partners in combat and bed.”

Her hand clawed into his as her gaze went back to the path in front of her that guided them to the ballroom hall.

“They expect us to have children.”

“Worse”, Wynthan replied pressed with a grave voice.

“Worse?”

“We both answer the same leaders. They prohibited my kind to have children with each other, talking shit like inbreeding risks and so on.”

Both fell silent and faked a smile as they walked up to the soldiers at the gate to the ballroom and passed them. Wynthan’s hands held tight onto her as if he expected an attack any moment and was ready to push her out of it.

The second they took position for the opening dance Talindra glared at him in an unspoken thread to continue talking. Wynthan forced a smile on his face as he leaned down to his ear, making it look for bystanders like he would tell her something indiscreet.

“They tried to train us to force us upon you at first chance but forget our strong mind and our stubbornness.”

She placed her hands on his shoulder ready for the music.

“I wish I could say I am surprised. They tried to teach us what beasts you are, how you are basically only the middle ground between us and the monsters outside the walls.”

“You don’t believe them.”

With a smirk she tilted her head a bit aside to see him better.

“The logic is flawed. Why keep you folks around if you are as dangerous as the things you fight?”

A deep growling chuckle escaped Wynthan. The ruckus around them was a tell-tale sign the dance was about to start.

“Just one last question.”

“Whatever you want to know.”

“Are the others informed as well?”

His smile turned soft, and it tucked on her again. A split second she questioned herself if she was falling for him but dismissed the thought. This was different, nothing emotional. The urge to scratch the spots on her head where the filed down marks of the small horns she started to grow somewhere around her sixteenth birthday were situated rose in her.

“This time yes. All eight of us are on the same page, so will you eight.”

Talindra smiled back but before she could reply the music started and she had to concentrate on the dancing moves.

[the-navistar-carol]

name some rdiculous things you have done.

The entire Origin Story of how Zee and I became friends.

When I was either eleven or twelve, I scaled a short, rocky cliff and went up about thirty feet because my friend’s dad said he would give me twenty bucks. At the top, he revealed he had no money, and I slipped on the way down. Earned my first major scar that way, it’s on the outside of my left knee.

Box-jumped a lunch table at thirteen. I didn’t get the scar until I decided “one more won’t hurt” and went to Spanish class with a gash in my shin. I sat near the tissues and used that to stop the bleeding and didn’t go to the nurse.

From when I was almost fifteen to the summer after freshman year of high school, I dated this JROTC Boy Scout who played World of Tanks and lived a city away. I saw him once a week if I was lucky and thought I was in love.

Read the infamous My Immortal from start to finish at least five times.

Binge-read chapters 1 through 295 of My Hero Academia in five days, all the while still going to school and getting decent sleep.

Took over a Star Wars RP server in a quasi-coup that started with me being banned and ended with me being the server owner. The server is still active and I love it like my child.

Wrote fanfiction for Assassin’s Creed. It’s good.

I was a Warrior Cats Kid in elementary school. Yes, I hissed at people.

Watched Hetalia all the way through and loved it. Made Hetalia OCs. Wrote Hetalia fanfiction. Read Hetalia fanfiction. Walked to 7-11 in Hetalia cosplay.

Asked Zee for legitimate advice on how to write people being horny and listened to it.

Ran two miles in Converse. Wound up with shin splints afterward.

In middle school, I would print out memes, put them in a binder, and show my friends. I also had an amalgamation of keychains so dense, you could call it a Fullmetal Alchemist chimera. You could hear me coming like a belled cat.

Called myself ace before knowing what that truly meant, if that counts.

There’s definitely more but I can’t remember it all. I was an insane child.

[rachelsnotebook]

Holiday Journey

I never knew a holiday could break.

For years things went by predictably: dinner at one, three rounds of tug-of-war over the TV, and silent prayers that this wouldn’t be the year someone snapped, again.

It may have been strange and stressful, but that was home.

As it was happening... I had no idea the memory I was gently holding onto and storing away as my new favorite was actually the last stop before I got lost and fell to the worst rock bottom of my life, so far.

In a rare change of events, I had plans one holiday weekend that took me several hours away from my usual spot on the couch. Understandably, I was psyched to catch up with my friends I hadn’t seen in ages.

My mature, twenty-something year old self was practically bouncing out of my grandparents’ house, wanting it to be the next day already. On the way out, my grandpa decided to make my treat bag that year. Like any sane person, I prioritized crescent rolls over nearly all other holiday foods so it became an unofficial tradition that I was given a part of what was left in the bread basket at the end of the night.

Most years my grandma would piece it together. And she wasn’t exactly secretive that it was because she needed to make sure she kept exactly the treats she wanted. That year her voice carried across the living room and pierced through the wall into the kitchen while my grandpa hurried to throw the bag together. It didn’t matter that she could barely see what was even happening. I know she was ready to go to war over that platter of brownies.

Unfazed, my grandpa brushed off her raised voice and shrugged how nobody wanted her chocolate. And he was right. My sights were set on the crescent rolls.

He turned and handed me a stuffed, zipped bag with strict orders to bring it with me that next day. We both knew depending on traffic that the long drive could be even longer and I’d need these supplies.

And I did. The glass nearly splintered the second I screeched with joy when I discovered the brownies he carefully hid among all the flaky, bread goodness.

There were many things he left unsaid over the course of his life, and oftentimes he purposely kept his hearing aid turned off just so he could have peace in his own home, but the true extent of his feelings could always be found in actions. Like this one.

Or the time he equipped me like an assassin with the amount of knives he bought for my college apartment.

Or how he gave me a real metal hammer, but a perfect size for my five year old hand.

Or how we’d pass books back and forth for the majority of my life as a book club of two.

That final book ended up being one of my favorite childhood stories. It brought me joy when I was small and afraid of the dark. I hoped the magic would bring him comfort while he was in the hospital. His bookmark took up residence three chapters in. I read around it last time.

If he was there that next Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or Easter… I honestly can’t remember anymore. The brain is an unusual thing. When it’s hurt, it eats away so much more than anyone ever warns you about.

It wasn’t long before the holidays stopped altogether.

My grandma decided she was done cooking, but she also didn’t want anyone else to do it. The phone began to ring less. The car kept falling apart. And the cracks grew until the whole thing shattered.

Holding onto the pieces, it’s difficult not to let my mind return to that last time everything felt okay. It almost feels like I’m tethered to that old memory, watching the world roll by the car window. A sense of home pulling me down the road. I keep thinking to myself that maybe one day I'll reach my destination, and there will be something worth celebrating when I get there.

Author's Notes:

I'll be honest...I still don't know what to make of this one.

My nephew is turning five soon, so that means this mother's day marks the Five Year anniversary of my grandpa's passing. I've been struggling to put my feelings into words since then. I can't explain why. No one has ever asked me to do this, but each winter I find myself here: a jumble of thoughts, a bitter taste in my mouth, an anger and feeling of loss I don't understand how to navigate.

I was mid way through my Thanksgiving, which consisted of a bag of potato chips and watching A Christmas Story on loop, when I began throwing thoughts down in a note app on my phone. Over the next several weeks I picked, and poked until I couldn't look at this string of words anymore.

I wanted to share this before Christmas, and then before the New Year. I'll take 2am on February 1st. This is a part of my journey, and maybe next winter I'll find a bit more peace revisiting this stop.

///

This piece has been reworked for this posting, but originally posted on February 1st, 2023 at rachelsnotebook.wixsite.com

[my4inchdick]

I’ve wanted male validation for basically my whole lifelong, ever since I discovered that that was what I needed most in life. In order to be accepted, A boy had to like me. Not just a boy, boys. Cute ones, too. It was like I was supposed to collect male hearts and store them in a locket around my neck, so that I could absorb their power and influence into my own essence, each more douchey and vain than the last.

I’ve never really had such authentication before. I guess I’ve just never been the kind of girl that boys liked. I’m not pretty, I'm not cutesy or flirty, and I'm certainly not a pushover or a weakling, which guys seemed to like in girls. I’m more vocal and stubborn than they preferred, but that could be changed, right? It couldn’t be difficult. Well, it was.

Not being adequately “popular” bothered me so much during elementary school and most of middle school. I would spend nights crying in my bed, trying to figure out what I could change about myself to make guys like me which, in my mind, was equal to being accepted in all of society. 

Seventh grade was when i first started questioning my sexual identity. There would be little hints. I thought that Kate Mckinnon was so hot that i had to bite my knuckles during most of Ghostbusters. I was basically in love with my hairdresser, and going to my mom’s salon every few months would be the highlight of my whole week. I also never fantasized about a relationship with a guy, my only goal was that he would ask me out. But that was all normal, right? I was completely straight, and I was completely in need of a boyfriend. 

So, as of eighth grade, I was still searching for that one text from a dude: I like you. I sent that same text to so many guys over the years, never once having my feelings be reciprocated and feeling diminished to almost nothing when they weren’t.  

Then, in the middle of eighth grade, I finally got it. A boy finally,  finally, told me that he liked me. I was floating on a cloud for almost twenty whole seconds, before realizing: Wait. I don’t really want this thing. What am I supposed to do with it?

Now by this time, I basically knew that I was a lesbian, even if I was the only one who did. I spent days worrying about this boy and my identity. What would people think if I turned him down? They might find out that I like girls! I was never going to get a chance like this again anyway, right? So maybe I should just pretend to like him, just so that I could say I'd had a boyfriend, everything would work out and I would find out that I really did like boys.

This boy, however, was kind of notorious for being exceedingly forward. He had asked me to suck him off as a “joke” multiple times, which I had brushed off at the time, because, well, I liked being around him. He was funny, and he let me practice my insults and comebacks. Which was a skill that, thanks to him, I perfected quickly. He was charming and conventionally kind of attractive, I guess. But I was too enveloped in my own crush on one of my friends to notice any of this. As a result, when he told me that he liked me, I was shocked.

In the end, I decided to politely decline (with a few insults hurled at him for his lack of taste) and pursue my own crush, who just so happened to be a girl. I indulged myself in things I enjoyed rather than worrying about what people thought of me. I could never be liked by everyone, and I eventually accepted that. I came out as a full-on lesbian in high school, and got a great girlfriend who helped me survive it. I became more myself when I stopped needing male attention, and I was frankly living a much better and happier life.

[codesworn-blog]

ten random things i know about chris because i think about his life more than i think about my own:

he values romance and he’s of the opinion that any man who refuses to be soft and loving and romantic is a coward and doesn’t deserve the person he’s with. he might reserve it for behind closed doors, but all he really wants is someone who’ll be soft with him and not judge him for being tender, and someone who values love and family and supporting each other. he wants hand kisses and candlelit dinners and quiet nights in and dating and baths together and dancing when no one’s around to see, and he wants family days out and goofing around together and singing along to the radio on car journeys with probably-terrible harmony. all the good stuff. let him be soft and romantic and loving and attentive. he’ll dote on you tbh.

he’s generally quiet and reserved and adores listening to anything his loved ones have to say, but if you mention the right topic, he can talk for hours. topics include allison, cars, weapons or anything to do with history. god help you if you mention celtic history or myths/legends/etc. he won’t shut up, but he will apologise and get embarrassed when he realises he’s been talking for too long.

he would sleep naked if he could. clothes are annoying and there’s nothing worse than being all tangled in clothing when you try to roll over or having a t-shirt rubbing at your neck all night. he will sleep shirtless without fail, but if he has to wear pants, it’ll be just a thrown on pair of sweatpants or shorts. naked is the preference. unfortunately having a daughter means it’s not exactly risk-free, so he’ll cover up enough. that being said, during the day, there’s a 99% chance he’s not wearing underwear. he finds it restrictive and uncomfortable. don’t judge him. >.>

he sleeps best when he’s being cuddled. it’s scientifically proven that full-body pressure helps the nervous system and can reduce anxiety and that’s what he needs. he tends to be caught in the habit of being on guard all night otherwise, picking up every single noise and every shift in the air, and it keeps him too worked up to sleep. if he doesn’t have that comfort, he’ll spend the whole night pacing the apartment or reading in his study, or sometimes will just stare at the tv with a bottle of scotch in his hand. that’s if he stays in the apartment at all. he’s spent many nights just waiting in the woods. eventually this lack of sleep catches up to him and he’ll have one night where he passes out for like 12 hours. he needs cuddles so he can sleep. if whoever he’s sleeping with isn’t cuddling him, you can guarantee he’ll be wrapped around them or just full on human blanket mode on top of them.

he’s basically his mom’s biggest fan. no exceptions. he’s the biggest fan. bye kate. bye gerard. chris wins. he’s her sweet precious handsome darling boy and she loves him most and you can both suck it. :)

he’s a sneaky little bastard sometimes and he’ll kick your ass at mario kart after spending hours convincingly pretending he’s never played it before. he has played it before. he’s good. be warned. he’ll only ever let kids win.

he’s always had money and plenty of it, so he tends to throw it around a little too indifferently. he means well and it’s only ever to spoil / treat the people he loves, but it can probably get to be a little ��too much’ and sometimes he might need to be reined in.

he cries at sad/romantic movies. he’ll tell you he doesn’t but he’s a liar. just let him hide his face in your hair and pretend he’s only itching his eye instead of wiping a tear. don’t damage his ego by teasing. just give him cuddles and pretend you have no idea.

on that note, traditional ‘masculinity’ is bullshit. he knows he’s a man. he knows he’s strong and he knows he looks ‘manly’. he might joke about his ‘manly image’ and his ego, but he’s gonna happily take an interest in looking nice and dressing well, and he shamelessly loves romance and pretty things and luxury, and he’ll happily let any small child braid his hair or paint his nails or make him do stupid girly voices during story time.

also, his wife is in charge. his wife is powerful. doesn’t matter who that is -- wife or gf is boss. powerful women are necessary and amazing and any man who’s intimidated by strong women is a) missing out on magic and b) insecure and pathetic. any daughters of his are gonna grow up knowing how strong they are and making no apologies for it. and any son he has is gonna be taught to love, respect, protect and worship the women in their lives. it’s important. women deserve the universe.

bonus:

he’s a very stressed, very dramatic bastard and sometimes needs to be told to fucking chill. he will get grumpy for a little while after being told, but he will eventually accept that yeah... he should chill.

[bloodorangesoup]

Ice Cream and Bad TV | B.B.

Request: Late night thoughts : The only porn bucky watches are the ones that come on tv at like 2 or 3 in the mornings. Imagine cuddling up with him on his living room floor, aimlessly clicking around until you stumble upon the channel & he gets flustered & shy about it & you fuck him while porn plays in the background. Like I think it’s so romantic🥺🥺 riding him while the soft glow of the tv illuminates his face. His moans & grunting blending in with the actors 😫😫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I cannot for the life of me control myself)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | cuddle fucking, unprotected sex(pretend ur on birth control for a sec)(still wrap it b4 your tap it), flustered Bucky, porn talk, the tiniest bit of sub!Bucky for like half a second, fluffy smut, you get the gist

My Masterlist

Notes: I did this in one sitting so sorry if it’s repetitive or has any mistakes. I think I have a major soft sport for flustered Bucky. I also had to think of a realistic name for a TV porn channel so bear with me. This is my first time writing smut in non-headcanon form so let me know how I did! Happy reading!

It was 2am on a Thursday night when your phone rang with your boyfriend's caller I.D. This wasn't the first time that Bucky had called you for this instance, it became a routine for you to talk him down after a nightmare and you prepared to do so when you picked up. Usually the first thing you would hear was his heavy breaths, the anxious buzz in his body making him fumble his words as he tried to focus on talking to you, so you were surprised to be met with still breathing and his typical deep, steady voice.

"Doll? You there?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," you replied with a yawn, trying to sound as awake as possible. Bucky could hear the airiness of your voice and let out a sigh.

"Sorry, baby, I woke you up."

"You say that every time, I don't mind waking up for you. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow so I don't exactly need my beauty rest."

There was a pause. You could still hear static from the other side of the call but Bucky didn't say a word.

"Buck? You okay?" As if you snapped him out of a daydream, his hurried words rushed through the phone.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm kind of out of it right now, I had another bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You had expected his usual answer of yes, then you would listen to his thoughts and comfort him through the horrific reality that were his nightmares.

"You said you don't have work tomorrow? Do you think you could come over right now? Actually never mind, I don't know what I'm saying, it's 2am." You could practically see Bucky shaking his head as he took back his question.

"I'll be there in twenty, James. You better have some blankets and pillows ready for me because we're taking over your couch."

Bucky let out a breath over the line, "See you soon, y/n, love you."

"Love you more," you said quickly before hanging up, not letting him get in the last 'I love you.'

~

Forty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky's lap on his living room floor. You two had abandoned the idea of the couch and chose to make a small fort with the couch as your scaffolding. There was a surprising amount of pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you, you had no idea Bucky even owned them all.

He sat with his back against the couch, your legs laid over his and your arms were around his neck, bringing his head down to your chest. He talked about his nightmare, sparing you the gruesome details, and once he was done he closed his eyes and leaned further into your chest, breathing in your scent. You gave the crown of his head a kiss and rested your head atop his. Comfortable silence washed over the two of you before you spoke up.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to look down at him.

“What?” he mumbled into your chest. A soft smile graced your face at his cuteness.

“Ice cream and bad TV!” you announced excitedly before wiggling out of his grasp.

You did a little jog to his kitchen and reached down into the freezer to grab a small pint of ice cream you knew Bucky always kept stashed for you whenever you came around. Picking up two spoons and turning off all the lights in the apartment on your way, you quickly made your way back into the living room, lifting Bucky’s arms to situate yourself back into your position on his lap. You popped the lid of the small tub and handed it to Bucky along with a spoon. With your hands now free, you felt around in the dark for the remote and turned on the TV.

Waiting for the TV to completely turn on, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. You hummed at the taste of the cold sweetness coating your tongue. You gasped as you opened your eyes, finding Bucky scooping out some ice cream and lowering it to your mouth.

“Oh wait, let me make this cuter!” you squealed with your eyes wide.

Copying Bucky’s actions, you took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, the both of you opening wide and feeding each other. You giggled at the cliché moment and Bucky couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable you were.

You turned back to the TV, lifting the remote in your hands to change the channel to anything but the news that was already playing on the screen. As you flipped through sports recaps, music channels, infomercials, and movies that were already almost over, you sighed.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on. Maybe if I start from the end of the list there’ll be better stuff,” you huffed.

Before Bucky could register what you said you had already typed in the biggest number you could enter and began flipping down through channels. Surfing through the empty screens, you landed on one called HotNet and suddenly the screen was completely taken over by a pair of boobs which then cut to a woman on her back and a man on top of her, rutting into her at a slow pace, while her moans echoed throughout the apartment. You quickly shuffled with the remote, trying to turn the volume down from it’s loud setting, spooked at the loud, obscene noise coming from the speaker.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed into Bucky’s chest, “God, I hope your neighbors didn’t hear that.”

Bucky stared at the screen with wide eyes, hoping you would change the channel before noticing that the channel was in the On Demand section. You gasped through your laugh, collecting yourself before turning back to the TV and shaking your head.

“Jeez, I didn’t even know they still had porn like this on public television.” You looked back down at the remote, clicking the Guide button. Bucky’s heart stopped as the description took over the screen, the video still playing in the top right corner. In bold letters the words On Demand titled the card. Even worse, the bottom of the screen displayed a small box containing the information,

$19.99

purchased with debit card xxxx-9758

You furrowed your brows in confusion, realization slowly softening them, before a mischievous smirk took over your face. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, his face looked down at your lap, refusing to meet your eyes. You tapped the bottom of his chin with the remote, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Did you order TV porn, Jamie?” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice, and you only ever used that nickname when joking around, yet Bucky still felt extremely embarrassed. He felt as if he just got walked in on while touching himself. It didn’t help that it was you that saw it, he wanted to crawl in a hole and never look back.

“Ah, you’re blushing,” you squealed as you took his cheeks in your hands, “oh come on, it’s not that embarrassing Bucky.”

“Ugh, can we please pretend you didn’t just see that,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes to escape your stare. He set down the ice cream next to him and lifted his forearm over his eyes.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself and pushing up to swing your leg under you to the other side of his lap, you straddled him.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad. I mean we’ve had sex before Buck, I think you’d rather have me find this than Sam or someone else.” He let out another groan and lowered his head to lean against your neck.

“Angel, please don’t talk about Sam while you’re on top of me and there’s porn playing on the TV.”

You laughed and ran your hands down his arms, letting one of your hands run up behind his neck and weaving your fingers into his hair. You gripped the back of his head and gently tugged him back up to face you.

“Why,” you sang, deciding to have some fun with him in his flustered state, “is this turning you on?” you whispered the last part.

Before he could respond you leaned down and kissed him. You didn’t bother to start off slow as you usually would, Bucky could taste the hunger from every parting of your lips. His hands gripped your waist, you rocked your weight forwards to rub against him. Bucky’s head clouded, his senses felt overloaded in the best way possible, your movements mixed with the sounds of the moaning coming from the TV were getting him hot. You pulled back before getting too carried away, a smile on your swollen lips.

“So, baby, tell me about it.” You said. It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows and he cocked his head to the side in question, mind still foggy from the feeling of you grinding on him.

“What kind of porn do you watch?” you clarified, looking at him like you just asked what his favorite color was.

“Uhm, you want to know about that stuff?” Bucky looked at you with caution, feeling out if he should listen to you or not.

“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t know how it was back then, but most people nowadays watch porn. It’s not super taboo to talk about it,” you explained. You weren’t going to force him to talk about it if he really didn’t want to, but your desire to hear what Bucky was into was strong.

He hesitated for a moment, looking in your eyes and seeing curiosity clouded with lust. He cleared his throat.

“Well, pretty much this stuff,” he gestured with his hand to the TV before putting it back on your waist, “there’s this girl on there, she kinda looks like you, so I buy the videos with her.” He closed his eyes and internally groaned at his words, he didn’t mean to come off so perverted. God, you had already found his porn, the last thing he needed was for you to be thinking he was a creep.

“Y’know that’s actually kinda sweet,” you giggled, “what do you like about those videos?”

Feeling a bit more comfortable knowing you weren’t grossed out, Bucky continued.

“I like the ones where it’s dark and slow. It’s usually quiet and there’s candles and stuff,” he explained shyly. Of all the surprises that came with dating Bucky, you had to admit finding out he was into romantic porn was one of the biggest ones.

Bucky cleared his throat again before questioning you, “Do you watch porn?” He felt almost wrong asking that. He knew that women in this age were more sexually liberated, but the words still felt sticky in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, of course I do.” Bucky seemed surprised at how casually you answered. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to go on.

“Well specifically, I actually really like the videos that are like this,” you said, your head looking down at you straddling him, he followed your gaze, taking in how nice you felt on his lap. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. You could feel his rapid heart beat under your palm and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Do you ever watch the ones that look like this, Bucky?” He looked up at you and nodded with wide eyes, his pupils were blown and his mouth was open like he was searching for the words to respond.

You grasped his jaw in your hand, your thumb on his chin, and looked him in the eyes. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but with the newfound knowledge you had, you took your time with your actions. Within the last five minutes, Bucky had revealed to you not only that he liked soft, romantic porn, but that he also watched a specific actress because she looks like you. The one goal in your head was to fulfill his fantasy the best you could at the moment.

With his head still in your hand, you held your eye contact as you let your knees move out, grinding yourself against his growing erection. He let out an involuntary whimper. That was the last straw. You pulled his face to yours, joining him in a hard, yet loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your chest against his, trying to get as close as possible.

Bucky’s dick was painfully hard. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of you on top of him. His body felt like it was on fire, he was insatiably horny and couldn’t control the way his hips bucked up to grind with you. He felt like a horny teenager the way his mind was filled only with images of you naked, imagining you like that on top of him like you were now.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, keeping your pace slow as you glided it across and bit at his lower lip. A moan made its way out of your mouth and into his as you felt him buck up against you.

You slid your hands down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before his arms raised, giving you access to peel it off him, throwing it up on the couch. Bucky kissed down your neck, licking over the shell of your ear, and sucking at the center of your throat. He reached down and slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up and down your waist before gliding up and lifting your shirt over your head, discarding it with his.

Bucky wasted no time reaching around you and unclipping your bra and dragging it down your shoulders. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them with his large hands before bringing you into another tender kiss. Despite your frantic movements, there was a spark of passion cracking through the air, the both of you desperate to feel each other closer.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily and resting your forehead against his.

“I wanna make love to you, y/n, please, let me make love to you,” he groaned with a slight whine in his voice. He sounded like he was about to crack.

“Please, Bucky.”

You leaned back on your hands and lifted your hips, giving Bucky the room to pull down your shorts and panties in a few swift tugs. He quickly got up on his knees and pulled down his sweats and boxers, sitting back down and tugging them off his legs. You reached your arms forward, Bucky grabbing a hold of your wrists and pulling you back to straddle him again. You gasped at the feeling of his cock under your bare pussy, your wetness from all the grinding and kissing making you slide over him.

You leaned forwards, capturing his lips between yours and raising yourself up on your knees. Reaching under yourself, you gripped his cock, wet with your arousal, and lined him up with your cunt. Bucky gripped your hips as you sank down on him, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from rutting up into you. You stayed like that for a second, adjusting to the way he filled you. Seeing the remote lying on the floor, you grabbed it and slightly turned up the volume, only enough so that you and Bucky could hear the actress in the video being ravished by her co-star.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you began to slowly move up and down over him, riding him just as you had told him you liked to watch. His hands moved up from your waist, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You let out a hiss as he rolled them between his fore finger and his thumb, tugging on and rubbing his thumbs over them. He reached around to grab your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks and you used him to pleasure yourself.

You were a moaning mess over him and he wasn’t much different. The room was filled with the sounds of the porn playing on the TV mixed with the sounds of your own cries of pleasure. If the neighbors hadn’t been woken up by the TV, they sure were by you two.

Bucky sat back on his knees, his hands slid down to your thighs, moving your legs from under them and wrapping your legs around his back. His arms worked their way back up to wrap around your waist, bringing you ever so close. The new angle pushed him even deeper up into you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, giving you access to all the sweet, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

You were now pushing up with your feet behind him, rolling your hips over his. The new technique made your clit rub over his pelvis, the sensation making you throw your head back and let out a deep moan. He took the opportunity to continue kissing your neck, going lower with every lick and bite. He sucked at your collarbone, leaving a deep purple mark in its place.

Suddenly, he was using his arms to lift you up, not pulling out of you, and laying you down on the blanket-covered floor. You instinctively locked your ankles together, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you. Bucky had his metal arm holding himself up while his flesh one squeezed your breasts, feeling them move with his thrusts. He lowered his head to your chest and licked one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it before taking it in between his lips and sucking. Your hands flew to the back of his head, singing praises as you wove your fingers into his hair. He continued to alternate between your breasts, leaving love bites around them and sucking on their sensitive peaks.

You could feel your body buzz with anticipation, you were so close. The moans escaping your mouth were lewd and uncontrolled. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist, lifting your chest flush against his.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Nothing felt better than making love with Bucky felt. This was definitely not the first time you two had been intimate, but none of those previous times had ever been like this. You could feel the passion flowing through his body into yours. You looked up at his form over you, how beautiful he looked with the light of the TV screen glistening against the beads of sweat on his forehead. There was absolutely nothing in the world compared to having him, in all his beauty, to yourself like this.

Bucky’s heart was exploding in his chest. What had started out as an embarrassing, nightmare-fueled night had turned into the most intimate experience he ever had in his life. Love was already established in your relationship, but Bucky had never truly made love to you. He looked down in awe at your disheveled state, at the way your hair was sticking to your forehead, at the way the only light in the room gave you an angelic glow. He wanted nothing more than to give himself completely to you, to make you come all over him.

He leaned his forehead against yours, pushing his face forward once every few seconds to kiss you. He was close, and he wanted you to come with him. He leaned into you even more, his cheek pressed against yours, his lips next to your ear.

“I love you so much, y/n, God, you feel so good. I love you, I love you,” Bucky’s voice was deep and strained, his words being emphasized by each push into your wet pussy. You let out another loud moan.

“I love you, James,” you whined as he hit your sweet spot, “I love you so much.”

Bucky’s hand wedged itself in between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing it. You were completely overwhelmed, this is what it felt like to make love to someone. Your body began to shake and your breathing became erratic. Bucky thrusted harder, working to push you over the edge.

“I want you to come in me, Bucky,” you gasped as his thrusts got faster and lost their rhythm.

Your mouth turned open in a silent scream as you came. Bucky felt your walls clench around him, squeezing the life out of him. He let out a shaky groan as he fell over the edge. His eyes shut tight and his body tensed as he spilled into you.

Wrapping his metal arm around your back and securing your body to his, he rolled on his flesh shoulder onto his back. You went limp against him, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow down. He was still buried within you, connected to you. Letting your eyelids fall shut, you savored the feeling of being full of him and his love.

You lifted your head to kiss his jaw.

“I’m glad you called me, Bucky. I love you.”

“I am too, doll. I love you more.”

[nini-trash-forever]

Jealousy

Luca Changretta x gn (gender neutral) reader

    Luca had convinced you to come with him to a “business meeting”. He tended to get bored during things like this. So why not bring someone that could never bore him? He was meeting with some of the other Italians so that they could talk about their next move. You were finishing up the final touches of your outfit to fit in at the restaurant the meeting would be at. Luca came up behind you and admired your reflection in the mirror.

    “My love,” he said in Italian as he put his arms around you. He couldn’t help but appreciate what you’re wearing. No matter what you wore, he would appreciate it. You could be wearing a burlap sack for all he cared. You started studying Italian about a month ago so you think you know what he said, but you weren’t sure. Therefore, you just smiled at him through the mirror and hoped for the best. “Are you ready to leave?” You nodded and grabbed your coat and walked out the door to go to his car.

    His car pulled up to a local restaurant, Salerno’s. It’s owned by an older couple who came over from Italy a few years ago. You had met the owners, Gabriele and Sofia, a few times and they were sweet people, they minded their own business but would take care of their customers as if they were family. It’s very homely inside and the smell wafts through the air even from the outside. Luca offered his hand to you and led you inside. The delicious smell of freshly baked bread became stronger the farther you went into the restaurant. You stopped and dropped Luca’s hand.

    You softly greeted Sofia with a smile and a hug. During one of your previous visits, she hinted at you being able to call her nonna, but you expressed you weren’t quite at that level yet, but you might be one day. Luca had never held a meeting here before, but did so on your recommendation. This is also his first time here. So, he was clearly shocked to find out you were somewhat close with the owners. Sofia leaned close to your ear and whispered just loud enough for Luca to hear, “Is this him?”

    “Good evening. My name is Luca.” Sofia didn’t react at first, looking him over for what seemed to be the third time. Was she judging if he was good enough for you? You nudged her a little, but she remained silent.

    “Luca, this is Sofia. She and her husband own this restaurant. They treat everyone like family, especially me. So please be good to them.” Sofia smiled and pulled you into a side hug. She also knew that you weren’t good enough at Italian to understand what she was about to say, and she did so with a smile.

    “If I find out that you hurt them or someone they care about, I will rip out your tongue and serve it up as a specialty for dinner service.” Luca’s eyes went wide with the threat, you were oblivious. “I think it’s time for me to lead you to your table, hmm?” You nodded and followed Sofia, taking Luca’s hand in your own, but for some reason his grip was very loose. You were concerned.

    “Baby, what’s wrong?”

    He swallowed thickly before replying, “Nothing. Just thirsty.” You didn’t quite believe him, but ignored it as you approached your table. You turned to Sofia and thanked her. Luca nodded as a thanks and she gave him a death stare but left to attend to the wait staff. That was suspicious.

    “She said something to you, didn’t she?”

    “Yes.”

    “Are you going to tell me what she said?” You both sat down, him at the head of the table closest to the kitchen and you to his left.

    “No.”

    “Smart man,” Sofia said as she walked towards the kitchen. You laughed wholeheartedly at her response. Now it is just a waiting game.

    Slowly, the people filed into the restaurant. As the meeting time got closer, larger groups came in until almost the entire restaurant was full of Luca’s associates. You were surprised at just how many people were there. The wait staff came through to take drink orders and get those passed out with menus so that everyone could order their meals. It seemed like utter chaos to you, but controlled chaos to Sophia. Sophia made sure everyone’s orders were taken without a problem.

    Orders were delivered to the kitchen where Gabriele and the chefs would make sure they were made to standard. You had watched him work the pass once. It was amazing to see his command and grace running the kitchen and his standard of food was one of the many reasons people came back for more. You knew that there would likely be little to no problems with the food tonight even with a packed restaurant. Within twenty minutes, appetizers started coming out of the kitchen to those who ordered them. Luca had raised his eyebrow at your choice of appetizer because most Italian restaurants weren’t able to get it right (at least in his opinion). You gave him a taste of it, though, and he seemed genuinely surprised at how good it is.

    “Wow,” he said, “that’s delicious! I sort of wish I had gotten one for myself.” You smile at his statement.

    “When this is over I can ask Gabriele and Sophia to make some extra for us to take with us. Would you like that?” Luca hummed and nodded his head in response. He gave you a look that let you know he adored you. The last appetizer was delivered and the first part of the meeting started. This consisted of them going over major changes since the last meeting everyone was at. It then went on to making sure everyone was on the same page about minor changes and decisions. Soon you spaced out and thought of the entrées that were being cooked in the kitchen. You had excused yourself to quickly use the restroom and talk to Sophia for a minute. By the time you got back, the food was almost ready to be served. Once it was, everyone in the room looked like they were ready to devour everything on their plates.

    It seemed that everyone enjoyed their meal and dessert was served not too long after. The meeting continued on after and it seemed as though it was never going to end. You’d silently hoped that Luca could see the boredom on your face. He did. He saw the boredom, but there wasn’t much he could do. Everything being discussed was incredibly important. Eventually the meeting came to a close and most of those from the meeting had left. Some stayed behind to get extra food like you and Luca. One man had stated his wife probably wouldn’t let him in the house if he didn’t get something for her as well.

    You drank quite a bit of water throughout the meeting and decided to relieve yourself once again before you left. There was a problem, though. A man who was in the meeting that seemed to be drunk was standing outside the restroom door. He was giving you a look that made you very uncomfortable and was calling you pet names that made it even weirder. This continued to happen until you stood by Luca who was paying for dinner. The strange man still did not catch on to who you were with as he said a certain phrase very loudly that you would never forget, “Hey, sweetheart! How much is he payin’ for ‘ye? I’ll double it. I could treat ‘ye real nice.” With Sophia and Luca right there, you knew something would happen but you pretended to ignore him. You gave them each a look for them to ignore what he was saying in hopes he would just go away. Eventually he did, grumbling how he didn’t think you were that good looking anyway. Luca’s jaw was clenched during this interaction. You could tell it bothered him. It certainly wasn’t the first time a creepy man had propositioned you.

    It turned out that everyone had enjoyed their meals and most planned to come back with their families in the future. You grabbed the extra food and said goodbye to Sophia and Gabriele and headed to the car with Luca. His jaw was still clenched. You didn’t say anything to him. This wasn’t because you didn’t want to talk, but rather you didn’t know what to say.

    The ride home was a little too silent for your liking. At this point you could feel the anger radiating off of him. He slammed the house door closed. You had tried to talk to him after getting back but he couldn’t handle it at first. You know he wasn’t upset with you. He was just angry that someone would have the audacity to say that to you, and that he didn’t do anything about it (on your wishes).

    After a while, he came back to the room you’d stayed in and kissed you harshly. This went on for a couple minutes and he pulled back. It became very clear to you that he wanted your permission to go after the man who’d said those things to you. You declined. “But, y/n, I just want to talk to him for a—”

    “The answer is no. I will not allow you to go after a drunk man no matter what horrific things he said to or about me. I am not that kind of person. End of discussion.” He nodded in defeat and hung his head onto your shoulder. Some time later, you both made your way upstairs and changed for bed. Snuggled close together, you sighed as you slowly fell into slumber.

    As sleep started to take over you, you briefly heard Luca say something you didn’t understand. “I love and respect you. However, I cannot just let that man get away with it. I will personally make sure he pays. I just hope you can forgive me.” He held you tighter and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[pa-panda-heroes]

heya! how about a scenario where shiggy accidentally hurts the reader with his quirk and like, freak tf out? angsts with lots and lots of fluff, please! ty! ♥︎

Okokok imma do my best for my first angst!! Also I added Dabi because I got a request for him a while back and I’ve wanted to write him for a bit, now <3 hope that’s okay!

I think this was a bit longer for a scenario but... I enjoyed writing it so :>

Warnings: language, mentions of violence(? Eh...)

Tomura/Dabi accidentally hurt reader with their quirks!

Tomura:

It happened accidentally. You knew that. Right? It wasn’t his fault, but his damn quirk’s fault, the one that he never asked for and the one that never allowed anyone to get close. Rather, he never let anyone get close because of it. He’ll admit he was always proud of its destructive capability as a villain, but now that it had hurt you, he wish he’d never boasted to a soul.

Twenty-three times. He had called you twenty-three times. And twenty-three times you didn’t answer. What was he to do, now? There was no stopping the decay borne from his fingertips once it had set in, and considering you wouldn’t answer your phone... it didn’t look good. Kurogiri had whisked you away before Tomura could even utter an apology, which looked to him as though Kurogiri did so in order for him not to witness your death. Kurogiri told him something about a doctor, but Tomura figured him a liar.

He couldn’t breathe. You shouldn’t have been hurt. Literally. Tomura hadn’t so much as touched you with a single finger; if anything, he was trying to protect you from the stranger grabbing you. It happened so fast, all he remembered was his quirk activating and the stranger vanishing before he heard your cry of pain and saw the skin of your arm drying out, much like he had done to that hero at U.S.J. He couldn’t tell, but it somewhat looked as though the decay was limited to just your bicep. That could’ve been hopeful thinking, of course, and he knew it.

So he sat there, all alone and hunched over on the couch in the bar, with misery and dread coursing his veins, accelerating his blood pressure to concerning levels. He had nothing to look at but his shaking palms and red shoes as he tried to even out his breathing - to no avail. Then, he felt the weight of someone sitting next to him, and instantly recognized how far the cushion next to him sunk in. And yet, he couldn’t look at you.

“Thanks for that back there,” you say quietly, afraid to startle him, but you recieve no response. “Y’know, I’m not sure what would’ve happened if my knight in shining armor hadn’t showed up!” You knew he felt guilty. Why wouldn’t he? But he shouldn’t. You wanted to convince him of that.

“Didn’t go far, huh,” you hear him mumble, nodding his head to your bandaged left arm next to him. There was no life to his voice and before you can say anything, he speaks again. “It won’t happen again. You’re not coming around anymore.”

“Hey, wait! That’s not your-“

“I’m the leader, and I say so! You can stay in the League, but you can’t... be close to me. You’ll get hurt.”

You stand up in defiance and put your hands on your hips in defense. “I’m not leaving you! First of all, I can take care of myself. Second, look at the League. We have a bloodthirsty serial killer and a cynical pyromaniac constantly lounging about, and you’re worried about some one-in-a-million freak accident happening again?” Patience was key with Tomura, and you knew that, but he could be stubborn and unreasonable, and when it came to you, stubbornly, unreasonably protective. “Besides, with the world as it is, I could get hurt doing something as mundane as taking out the trash, like I was when I was attacked!”

He finally looked at you, the look of a whipped pup on his face and while you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, you felt guilty for raising your voice at him. You sigh quietly and sit back down next to him, reaching for his hand and settling for his knee when he yanked it away. You snuck your arm around his shoulders and plopped your cheek on his shoulder, knowing all too well he would welcome it despite his standoffishness - and he did. Tomura didn’t pull away or push you off. But he hid his face. Your fingers on his left shoulder rubbed at it, his clavicle prominent enough you almost cringed at how thin he was. Your other hand on his leg idly toyed with the seam of his jeans, not having anything better to do.

“I’m sorry.” It was unclear as to whether he was apologizing for hurting you, or for demanding you keep your distance from him. Either way, it was undoubtedly genuine and soft.

You sat up straight and hugged your leader and lover from the side, gliding your fingers through his hair as you gently guided it to you. He hesitated slightly before burying his head into your chest and latching onto your ribcage for dear life, muttering the weakest “Don’t go, please,” anyone has ever heard. The desperation and vulnerability in his voice elicited your arms to wrap around him in a tight, warm embrace, your chin digging into his hair when you peck it, again and again and again. You stifled a giggle at how soft and ticklish his hair felt, electing to gently shush him.

“I just told you, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to. I love you, silly.”

Dabi:

Dabi let out every curse known to mankind - and then some - as he rushed over to you, the bastard thugs the two of you had been after now burning alive and falling to the street. He would have sworn on his life you were not within range of his flames, and yet here you were, on the ground clutching your burnt leg and cringing away the searing tears of pain. Maybe you didn’t see him readying the attack and charged in? Maybe one of those thugs diverted his attack? He wasn’t sure.

“Y/n-“

What little color he had in his face drains completely, and his fingertips are already trembling.

“Dabi, I’m fine,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not that bad! I’ll just need a little first aid.” It hurt like hell, a white-hot, pulsating pain, you couldn’t lie. You just weren’t going to tell him that. It stretched from just below your knee to a hand’s length above your ankle and covered only the side of your leg, thankfully. The affected area was an awfully dark pink and honestly, it was hard to look at.

He practically scoffed at you. “Y/n, you’re fucking burnt. Don’t tell me that shit.” From the look on his face, it seemed bad.

That was the most cross he’d ever been with you, despite his brash and vulgar nature, and you couldn’t help but retreat a little as he knelt down to you and pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a call. “Y/n’s hurt, get us to the bar or something.” He grabbed your leg - surprisingly gently - and seemed to examine it. He paused as if to listen to the other end. “She’s burnt, does it matter? Just get us the hell out of here.” He must’ve called Kurogiri, as the next thing you know there’s a warp tunnel summoned next to you.

You tried standing on your own to leave, but the burn decided it didn’t want you to do so, and so you dropped back to the ground and bit your lip at the shockwaves of pain crawling up your leg. Dabi said nothing and helped you up himself, grabbing your arm and side to help you walk through the warp. Once through, he set you down on the couch, still eerily quiet, and left you there. The pain was so bad at this point, you began to think you’d faint, your head feeling fuzzy as tears run down your cheeks.

The stapeled villain returns with a bucket of ice water, towels, and what looks to be a first aid kit. But he stops for a second when he sees you hunched over with a death grip on your knee and the seat beneath you, and it takes all he has to hold it the fuck together. He’s unreasonably angry, and he’s not sure why. He wants to tell and scream, maybe at you, maybe not, he’s not sure. His quirk’s only quality was destructiveness. It was damaging not only to his enemies but also to his own body - and now, you.

He hurt you. Accident or not, he hurt you. The lump in his throat was suffocating.

Dabi knelt down and soaked a towel in the cold water before wringing it wordlessly, then gently tapping it to your leg and pulling back when you hiss. He seemed to notice it but didn’t outwardly acknowledge it and contintued to use the cold towel on your burn. As more time passed, the more convinced he became that it was a second-degree burn, meaning the second layer of your skin, the dermis, was badly burnt. He had no doubt it would scar, and at the thought the breath was pulled from his lungs. Dabi muttered a curse and suddenly rested his forehead against your knee, his right hand holding the cool towel to your leg.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, fuck.” His voice was low, and if you looked hard enough, you could hear that it was forced out through a tense throat. He was nearly in tears, wasn’t he? He wasn’t an overly emotional person by any means, but the fact that his quirk hurt you, with its history, it hurt worse than if you would’ve left him for a hero. He hated himself. His quirk didn’t have a single redeeming quality, and he began to think the same of himself.

“Dabi, don’t, okay? I’ll be fine, really.” You can’t help how weak your voice sounds, being in so much pain, but you nonetheless plant a hand in his hair and rub his scalp.

Dabi lifts his head to look at you, and the look in his eyes isn’t something you’ve seen before. His free hand comes up to rest on your thigh, and you can feel it shaking. “It might scar, y/n. Don’t you get that?”

You huff. “So? If it does, I’d be pretty cool with that, all puns intended,” you try to giggle at your own pun and can practically feel him rolling his eyes, “Besides, I’d kinda match you, wouldn’t I? It’ll be like a couple’s tattoo sort of thing!”

He rests his chin atop your knee and a look that only be described as a pout crosses his features, but he says nothing and you can only smile. Dabi deadpans when you say nothing, forcing yourself to beam at him with bright eyes and a smile. “You’re a weird one, ya know that?” he muttered.

“You’re even weird for falling in love with me,” you teased after he began to work on your leg again.

“Pfft.”

[bubbleteaimagines]

age gap

tony stark oneshot

tony x you

swearing, large age gap

in this day and age it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

but it was.

y/n l/n and tony stark became trending worldwide, every gossip magazine and newspaper out for whatever information they could get about your relationship.

the relationship by the way, that had a 28 year age gap.

you were 20 and tony was turning 48, though it seemed neither of you cared as much as the world did.

you thought it was perfectly normal, seeing as your parents were years apart and tony simply didn’t give a damn.

‘screw the tabloids’ he always said, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

at home, you were able to relax with the idea of your age gap as it was just the two of you being y/n and tony.

but out in public, it was an entirely different deal.

whispers, stares, pictures. you name it and people did it, not even caring or respecting your private time with tony when you went out.

you didn’t expect for it to bother you as much as it did. you thought that maybe with tony by your side you could block out the whispers and the hateful stares but it was nearly impossible as it happened almost everywhere you went.

even if you went grocery shopping for god’s sake, someone still had something negative to say.

of course, tony defended you as much as he could. he tried to shield you from the hateful words and articles but sometimes he wasn’t enough.

sometimes, it did get to you and soon you realized you didn’t know how much more you could take.

you loved tony, but after being constantly called a gold digger and his sugar baby, you began to doubt yourself, and your relationship.

were you really as manipulative as the papers said? were you really just with tony for his money?

of course not. deep down you knew that with or without money you loved tony stark. and he loved you, but it didn’t help that he also loved to spoil you and he was paying almost all of your college tuition.

even though you insisted he didn’t, he did anyways. he reassured you after countless protest that that was just something he did; he took care of everyone he loved.

eventually you were forced to settle with the idea. but it never stopped the running thoughts in your head.

am i really that bad as everyone says?

it was during a christmas party that tony was holding that you finally snapped.

tony had gone all out; getting the most expensive decorations and inviting all of the richest people he knew.

and of course, since it was tony, he also got the best alcohol money could buy, and unfortunately you weren’t allowed to drink a single drop.

all night, you had stood awkwardly by tony’s side in your pretty red dress, holding a cup full of water and laughing uncomfortably as you were forced to listen to drunk rich people tell unamusing stories.

by now, the music was blasting, night had fallen, and you were pretty sure you were only one not drunk at the party, minus tony and steve.

the elegant cup that you pretended to drink from held nothing expect for water and it was only another painful reminder that you were probably the youngest one at the party.

out of respect, tony decided he wasn’t going to drink either but that did nothing to ease you. If anything, you wished that he had been drinking so that he wouldn’t remember the embarrassing conversation you were having with some of the housewives he invited.

“so, y/n, tell me,” a woman name martha kalnins gushed as she sat on one of tony’s luxurious couches, obviously drunk from one of the many glasses of wine she had had. “Is Tony really as amazing in bed as everyone says he is?”

a round of laugher from the other housewives around you made you shift uncomfortably, thankful the dark room didn’t show the frown radiating off of you.

“uh… i uh,” you sounded like a child, struggling to answer her question and you laughed uncomfortably as to not show how disturbed you really were. you shared a look with tony.

“i mean … h-he’s great at everything, honestly. it’s tony stark we’re talking about,” you answered unsurely, and tony squeezed your thigh as the women laughed again.

“oh, i guess you’re right,” martha slurred and took another drink. “that tony is a catch. hell, if i had been twenty years younger like you i would’ve snatched him up, too. with that tight little body of yours it’s no wonder he’s so eager to pay your bills.”

another round of laughter and you could feel tony beginning to tense up beside you. now, it was your turn to squeeze his leg and you turned back to the women with a tight smile.

“oh, tony doesn’t pay my bills,” you tried to assure them but they waved it off.

“oh nonsense. why else would you be with a man that’s almost 50?” another woman asked you and you threw her a sharp glare.

you were starting to heat up, not appreciating their little jabs at your relationship.

“why am i with him?” you pulled out your cold tone and scoffed at her. “i don’t know— maybe because i love him?” you said a little angrily.

how dare they insinuate anything else than the truth: you loved tony and you didn’t give a damn about his age.

the woman snorted. “yeah. that’s what i told myself when i first met howie,” she threw a glance to an older man in the corner. “sure does make the sex a lot easier when you think you love them.”

you couldn’t stop your blood from boiling.

“how dare you!”

in an instant, you were up and out of your seat, the woman’s smile long gone as you angrily got in her face.

“y/n!” tony tried to stop you but you were sick of it. you were sick of it all; the jokes, the jabs, the little comments that nobody had any business making on your relationship.

you were done.

“how dare you talk about my relationship like that when you know nothing about us!” you fumed and suddenly you had everyone’s attention.

“who are you come into our house and as our guest disrespect us? you don’t know a thing about tony and i. not a single damn thing. you don’t know about all of the late nights we have, all of the laughs we share and all of the movies we watch. you don’t know about all the things we have in common besides sex and you damn well don’t know anything about me! you don’t, because if you did then you’d know i’m not with him for the money, or the fame, or whatever else you think is associated with tony stark. i’m not here for any of that. i’m here for him, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and realize that just because you spread your legs for money, that doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”

by the time you finished you were panting and everyone was in complete shock. it was silent, and the woman in front of you looked as if she didn’t know what the hell to do.

no one did as you stood with your chest moving heavily, your well deserved rant coming off of your consciousness.

you huffed.

“well then. seeing as i’m only 20, i guess it’s past my bedtime,” you rolled your eyes and looked at the clock, noticing it was 1AM.

“i’ll see you all … whenever. goodnight.”

you did a dramatic turn and then proceeded to exit tony stark style. leaving a big commotion behind you and no doubt people that would spread your words everywhere the next morning.

that would be another problem you would have to worry about, but right now you focused on just sleeping the entire night away.

sighing, you changed out of your dress into some shorts and swiftly got under the covers.

you closed your eyes, and you tried to let sleep come to you but it was almost impossible as you were painfully aware the spot next to you was empty.

tony hadn’t come to bed yet and it was like your body refused to let you rest until he did.

sighing again, you peeled your eyes open again and decided to stare up at the blank ceiling, waiting for tony to come to bed.

when he finally did, it was around 3AM in the morning but even the dark you could see his shit-eating grin.

“well, that was quite the performance tonight, miss l/n,” tony teased almost immediately and you groaned.

“sorry if i ruined your party,” you apologized to tony and buried your face in a pillow. “i just got so mad that people kept insinuating i was only with you for that that i just … i just snapped.” you explained.

tony was still grinning and you felt the bed dip as he gently slid in beside you.

“don’t worry about it. i’d say that was more entertaining than mrs. mccoy getting so drunk she admitted she was cheating with garden boy,” tony laughed and you snorted.

“great. i was the biggest scandal of the night,” you sighed.

“biggest one of the century, actually. how long do you think it’s gonna take for people to start talking about it?”

“i’d say it’ll make an appearance in the morning. some magazine talking about how tony stark’s sugar baby finally blew her fuse,” you yawned and tony chuckled.

“yeah well, at lease i don’t have to worry about if it’s true now.”

“worry if what’s true?”

“that you love me,” he said quietly.

you peered up at him in the dark.

“tony? what? of course i love you,” you frowned. you felt the pillow shift as tony shook his head.

“no, yeah, i know,” he said. “but now i don’t have to worry about if it’s tony stark you’re attracted to, or iron man.”

“clearly i wouldn’t be attracted to a piece of metal, tony,” you both rolled your eyes simultaneously.

“yeah, no shit,” tony sighed. “but i mean like— i don’t have to worry about which personality you’re attracted to. now i know for sure that it’s me that you want, and not just my name. or my fortune.”

“well, technically both are still up from grabs,” you smirked in the dark. “haven’t signed a pre-nup yet.”

“oh but you definitely will now,” tony scoffed, but there was humor behind both of your words.

you both found comfort in knowing that you only wanted each other, and not for the reasons everyone else thought.

you weren’t with tony for the money. and he wasn’t with you for the sex.

you both genuinely and honestly loved each other, and now you knew that no ridiculous tabloid or paper was ever gonna make you doubt that again.

[pagesoflauren]

Money’s Worth - You’re Mine

soft husband!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: Starting 2021 answering the question I got asked the most in 2020: “How will the reader react to learning that Ransom hooked up with someone when she was away for Christmas?”

A/N: When y’all filled out this poll, there was a 100% yes answer for a spinoff for The Highest Bidder. Well, here it is: Money’s Worth. In which Ransom is getting $50,000+ worth of experiences with his wife and child(ren). If you have more ideas, don’t be shy, drop ‘em in my ask box! I’ll update this series from time to time. 

If you were tagged in Highest Bidder, I automatically tagged you in this. If you’d like to be removed, let me know! My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise ❤️

Also, I’m sorry if your name is Amanda 🥴

Warnings: smut, swearing, jealousy, angst, daddy!kink

The Highest Bidder Masterlist

Money’s Worth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Darling, can you go over to the next aisle and get a couple boxes of pasta?” 

Ransom nods, even though you’re too engrossed in looking at the differences between chickpea-based and gluten-based pasta. 

His son is awake, wide eyes looking around at brightly colored food packages and fluorescent lights with a pacifier in his mouth. From what Ransom recalls of tales from when he was a baby, Harlan Jr. is more like you. Quietly observing, not kicking up too much of a fuss. 

Pinching the baby’s nose gently and coaxing a small giggle out of him, Ransom ventures over to the next aisle to find the pasta you like. 

A sharp gasp and an obnoxious “oh my God,” draws his attention. When he looks up and finds the source of the voice, his stomach gurgles with dread and annoyance. 

“All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you,” she says. “What are you up to? Disappointing more girls in bed?”

Ransom weighs his options in his head. He could dig low, reminding her of all the times she was actually begging for him, or he could take the high ground, grab the pasta, and ignore her. 

He does the latter, though makes the mistake of using his left hand to do so.

“Is that a wedding band?” she scoffs. 

“Yeah, it is--” 

“Oh, Ransom, don’t get that one, we want the bigger noodles.” 

Shutting his eyes, Ransom shouts all the swear words he can think of in his mind. This is such bad timing! 

“No fucking way,” Rebecca--or is it Veronica?--scoffs. 

“Hi,” Ransom sees you give a sickeningly sweet smile and he wants to disappear into the shelves. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you.” 

“I’m Amanda.” 

Wow. Completely different name than the ones his mind was supplying. 

“Your husband and I know each other pretty well.” 

He can see the gears turning in your head, analyzing the situation. 

“Quite frankly, I’m not surprised about the little one. I’m sure he did the same thing to you as he did to me, just finished and decided he was done without fully getting the job done!”

You’re visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, we just hooked up casually like, two years ago? I can’t really remember, it was during Christmas though. Hadn’t heard from him in a while and he mentioned being lonely and I figured ‘Why not?’”

“Two years ago?” you echo, looking at her, then at Ransom. 

“It was casual, I left right after,” he points out, 

“Oh, were you two together then? I’m so sorry--”

“You know what, Veronica, just get your stupid pasta or rice or whatever the fuck you’re here for and leave me and my wife in peace! Don’t you have better shit to do?!”

“It’s Amanda.”

“I don’t care.” 

Rolling her eyes, she leaves, turning on her heel and exiting the aisle. 

Ransom turns back to you and doesn’t like the thoughtful look on your face. You don’t look at him or Harlan, just at the contents in your cart. 

“Hey, don’t let whatever she said get to you. You know I love you,” he reaches for you, fingertip just grazing your cheek and you cringe away from him. 

“Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s go.” 

You’ve snapped at him before to remind him to stop completely at intersections or double check the temperature of Harlan’s bottle. You’ve never snapped at him that way, in irritation as if you can’t stand him. 

He recoils, drawing his touch away from you. “Well, just...let me get the right one.” 

“Ransom,” you deadpan, “I wanna go home. Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s. go.” 

He does as you say, carefully placing the boxes atop the other items. 

You don’t speak to him as you check out and sit in the backseat with Harlan to make sure he’s okay as he drives the three of you home. His little eyelids drop closed, completely calm despite the palpable tension between the two of you. 

Once at home, Ransom takes care of the groceries while you bring Harlan upstairs to his crib so he can continue to sleep. Just as you get him settled, you hear your husband pipe up. 

“So, can we talk about what happened at the grocery store?”

You sigh, straightening up. You cross your arms as you turn to face him. “When was the last time you saw her?” 

“When you were on winter break a few months after you had just moved in.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, a whirlpool of emotions spinning around in your chest. 

You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t know why. The two of you were just starting your sugar arrangement and it wasn’t anything deeper than that. There weren’t any feelings on your end until the following spring. 

“It wasn’t anything, it was just some hook up. She was just being a bitch because I left--”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” you interrupt him. 

You had long reconciled Ransom’s past and never held it against him. But you just cannot pin the exact reason why this revelation bothers you. 

“Look, I’m still figuring out things going on in my head. And I don’t really...I don’t really want to see you right now.” 

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” he argues, “We weren’t anything. We only became a thing in July.” 

“Really?” you wonder. You weren’t going to bring this up, but it feels fair in order to get him to understand your perspective. “I had a crush on someone from my cohort.” You watch his expression shift from annoyed to surprised. “I kissed him once. In November, after I moved in with you. But it didn’t work out because I was living with you, so we decided to not do anything about it.” 

You can see the visible tinge of red on his neck. “Are you saying that just to get at me?”

“It’s the truth,�� you say. “Does it bother you?” 

You can see him setting his jaw as he takes in the information. 

“But we weren’t anything, right?” you remind him of the words he spoke just minutes before. 

Ransom doesn’t say anything. He turns away and walks down the hall. You hear him going down the stairs and then the door to his office slams. 

You check on Harlan, he’s still sound asleep. Slightly relieved, you move into your bedroom and sit on the mattress. 

Ransom lets out a long-winded groan when he deletes the sentence he’s been working on for the fifty-second time in twenty minutes. 

He feels odd knowing you liked someone when you were living with him, just as the seeds of his feelings were being planted. He’s taken pride in the fact that he was the only one to have you, but turns out your heart was a better prize and that wasn’t his completely. 

He doesn’t doubt you love him and he’s certain he never has to worry about sharing you ever again, but it still bothers him. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs the back of his neck. 

He remembers fights between his parents never being resolved, which resulted in their marriage slowly disintegrating into a financial arrangement than a romantic relationship. 

He knows you late at night when you’re both hungry; knows you pregnant and crying over hermit crabs while watching nature documentaries; knows you between his arms and keeping him warm, making him feel safe and loved when he felt he didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want this to turn into anything close to the example of marriage he saw growing up. 

Shutting his laptop, he gets up and marches to the door. When he yanks it open, you’re standing there. 

“What are you doing?” 

You look caught, as if you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. “I...I wanted to talk. Unless you don’t want to.”

You begin to leave and he grabs your arm. “No, let’s talk.” 

Stepping into the room feels reminiscent of walking into his office at the publishing house for the first time. You’re not comfortable entering this territory. 

Hugging your arms around your middle, making yourself look as small as you feel, you decide to just be forward. Your words come out sheepishly, “I just...I didn’t like knowing the moment I was gone, you went out and replaced me. Even if we didn’t have an exclusive label. And, I just thought, like, I realize it doesn’t matter because we’re married. And like you said, I know you love me. But, I don’t know. Just didn’t sit right with me.” 

Ransom sighs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t replacing you or anything like that. I...I saw a change in myself from just having you with me for a few months. But I thought you’d leave as soon as you got the opportunity,” he uses a large sweeping gesture as if he’s picturing you leaving all over again. “And I’d…” he hesitates, hand up by his head before his arm goes slack, “be back to my shitty normal self.” 

It’s different now with the explanation, and you wish you had been in the mindset to listen to him earlier instead of hurt him.

“And I get it. Knowing you had a crush on some guy doesn’t sit right with me either. I just,” he looks up and distantly, “I wonder what he had. What made you like him but then you were fine with nothing happening and then you started liking me?” 

“Neither of us were ready for a relationship at the time. We had just started and our first semester was crazy.” You take your turn to explain. “And feelings just come and go sometimes. I saw him again in February and it just...wasn’t there.” 

He takes in your strikingly simpler explanation, understanding your reference to fleeting feelings that are gone almost as quickly as they appear. 

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It was so stupid and it really didn’t mean anything--”

“Neither did Amanda.” 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. 

“I wasn’t being very understanding earlier when you first said it bothered you. You were just trying to get me to know your side of things.” 

“Doesn’t make it right,” you counter. “I really am so sorry.” 

Ransom smiles and laughs to himself. He still doesn’t know how to accept an apology. He sighs, reaching for you. “How long do you think junior will be asleep?” 

“Could be an hour, maybe two,” you answer as he draws you closer with a hand around your waist. 

“Think that’s plenty of time for us to make it up to each other.”

“Technically I need to make it up to you,” you correct him as you take his hand. “And I know how I want to.” 

You lead him back around his desk, ushering him to sit in his chair. It’s large with dark blue velvet, providing enough room for you too and straddle his lap. 

You dive for his mouth, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. 

His left hand comes to cradle your jaw, keeping your lips locked onto his, while his right hand drifts down your back to cup your bottom. 

You grind your core against his, smiling when you feel his hips jut up to yours. Tilting your head you give a tentative lick into his mouth. He opens up, bringing his tongue in to play with yours. 

It reminds you of how it was when it started; being shy  and letting him take the lead. You haven’t fallen into this cloudy headspace in a long time, but it feels so good that when you pull back and gasp the word “daddy,” it feels so natural. 

Ransom, on the other hand, is taken aback. He’s gotten used to you calling him “darling” or other terms of endearment. Hearing you call him that awakens something that had long gone into hibernation; and he wasn’t sure if it would ever see the light of day again. 

But like you, he slips into the space, creating a firm grip on your ass as a smirk appears on his face. 

“Wanna call me ‘daddy,’ baby? Hm?” he taunts. Your eyes are wide and doey, feigning innocence when he knows you’re far from it now. “Well, guess we can do that. We’ll make up for that night I wasted on someone else.” 

He watches your brows furrow and eyes squint in anger. Your hands slide into his hair, fingers tightening in the tresses. It creates a pull on his scalp, something he enjoys. “You’re mine, daddy,” you whisper just before your lips are on his again, kissing him harder than before, certain to bruise. 

You pull away and lean down to nip at his neck, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You pop the button and undo the zipper unceremoniously. 

You remove yourself from his lap only to kneel between his legs on the carpet, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His boxers are quick to follow, revealing his hardening member. You grasp it, giving it a few squeezes and tugs the way you know he likes, watching his head loll back against the back of his chair. 

“This is mine, too,” you say. 

“Yeah?” he pants, looking down at you. A hand grazes through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. “My cock only belongs to you?” 

You nod, working him with more determination. 

“Then take it, baby.” 

You practically lunge for it, leaning forward to take him into your mouth, lips spreading to accommodate his girth. 

You’re satisfied with the sound Ransom makes, something between pained and blissful. He eggs you on, gathering your hair into a ponytail secured with his hand as he guides you to take more and withdraw in rhythm. 

You want him to finish in your mouth, but he pulls you off him and makes to lift you back onto his lap. You stand, already shimmying out of your bottoms. 

Straddling him again, you focus your attention down to poise yourself just above the head of him. 

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and makes you look at him before crashing his lips on yours once more. 

“Take what’s yours, baby. It’ll always be yours,” he whispers. 

You sink down, crying out at the feeling of him within you. The doctor had just given you the green light to resume sex as normal after Harlan’s birth weeks ago, but you haven’t been able to find a lot of time to tangle with each other without your baby or Ransom’s book needing attention. 

Ransom appears to have an equally hazy feeling, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. You straighten up slightly until just the tip of him is in and lower yourself again. 

It’s so much for the both of you that his hands come to your waist and he guides your pace. “Slow,” he instructs you. 

You obey, finding a steady pattern as you build a climax for the both of you. Coaxing your hips the slightest bit forward, Ransom sinks all the way to reach that spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Like that, baby?” he taunts you again, moving your hips up and down his length. “Tell daddy.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, “Just like that, daddy.” 

He works you until you’re nearing your end, tightening and pulsing around him to bring on his orgasm as well. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he taps below your eyes, a silent request for you to look at him. 

Your eyes meet his and he verbalizes exactly what he’s thinking. “I’m yours,” he pants, “I’m yours, my baby, my sunshine.” You fall forward and kiss him, letting him swallow your moans and whines. “Come for me, let me show you.” 

Your body weakens in his grasp, leaning onto him for support. Your movements falter and he makes up for them, jutting his hips up until he’s finishing within you. 

You gasp at the warmth that blooms in your stomach, feeling like gravity is failing but it’s okay; Ransom’s holding onto you, keeping you grounded. 

He holds you tightly as you breathe heavily, trying to recover your strength. You sigh and your arms wrap around his shoulders. You hear him chuckle and lean back. 

“We should’ve thought this through better,” he smiles, “We gotta get upstairs and clean up.” 

You moan your disappointment. “M’tired. Can’t we just stay here a bit?” 

Moving your hair out of your face, he kisses your exposed forehead. “Okay, sunshine,” he agrees. “Just a few minutes.” 

Permatag: @caffiend-queen​ @fckdeusername​ @lou-la-lou​ @bangtan-serendipity​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @rainbowkisses31​ @richonne4life​ @damnndeanndamnn​ @meetmeatyourworst​ @tinyplanet-explorer​ @vivien-1211​ @unknownmystery22​ @nerdygirl8203​ @xoxabs88xox​ @mariaenchanted​ @gotnofucks​ @denisemarieangelina​ @myoxisbroken​ @kelbabyblue​ @pspice639​ @maynay43​

Chris tag: @onetwo3000​ @patzammit​ @astheworlddturns​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme​ @tvckerlance​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​

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[kreidewaltz]

more than enough | k.t.

pairing. kageyama tobio x f!reader

about. he's beating himself up because he didn't have the time to prepare. but his worries disappeared when you offered him a smile and said it's alright.

word count. 1.4k

genre & warnings. fluff. slight comfort. established relationship. timeskip. soft kageyama.

author's note. this is for @marviesss! happy birthday again bub ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ik we don’t always talk but i love it when we do :( sorry for the three day delay sobs i wanted it to make it perfect </3 also thanks to eva for beta-ing this kisses you !! pats myself on the back for posting another fic <3 

"god, finally." kageyama sighs after as he cocks his head to the side. he opens his suffocating collar button. he fixes his dark blue long sleeve and rolls the sleeves while he admires his work on the dining table. he leans back on the counter and anxiously rub shapes on his legs, checking if the presentation is up to his standards. (you argue he sets himself up for failure and it was definitely a wrong move).

guilt forms in his chest, failing to cook your favorite food. before he could explode with frustration and throw things around the kitchen, which he knew you wouldn't appreciate, he called and ordered your favorite food. snapping out of his thoughts, he notices the baby pink envelope on the table so he slips it under your plate.

the heat he feels on his cheeks makes him curse under his breath. you messaged him twenty minutes ago that you're off work and can't wait to celebrate with him, your king as you quote so many damn times that the nickname is growing on him, for a different reason.

how are you so understanding? he thinks earlier when you just woke up, he brought you into his embrace and whispered happy birthday, love. both of you had indulged in the early mornings full of sweet murmurs in your ear, his hands gently running across your waist and giving you kisses on the forehead.

deep inside him, he wanted to skip practice, take the day off and face the consequences later. he wants to spend your birthday together and make it so memorable but reality said otherwise.

we're adults. kageyama sighs in distress after realizing that the teenage years, where you can have fun with your friends and be carefree, are over. he didn't realize he was drowning in his own thoughts, the loud knocks on his door making him tense, almost hitting his head on the top cabinet.

"tobio! the door is locked!" your sweet voice shouts from the other side and he hastily unlocks the door. he pulls you in his arms when he sees the lopsided smile on your face and whispers another happy birthday while burying his nose in your hair. he grabs your bag and puts it away, fidgeting with his fingers when you see the simple presentation. too simple, he comments in his head but he stops before his negative thoughts go for a drive.

"ah, happy birthday again- sorry i didn't prepare much, i hope you understand-" he rambles quickly while playing with his fingers behind his back. he fails to notice the genuine smile growing on your face. and if he were to cup your cheeks, he'd see the tears forming in your eyes, and you wipe them quickly before they fall. you walked in front of him before hugging him, locking your fingers and tightening your arms, feeling warm and lighthearted.

"babe, calm down. the fact you tried and did this… thank you." you say against his chest and you hope he hears you clearly. he runs his hand on your lower back while the other plays with your hair, partially relieved that you didn't demand for an extravagant celebration. he heard the sniffle you didn't mean to let out, and a chuckle leaves his lips. he didn't comment further and continued to draw shapes on your back, which melted you like a puddle.

"i ordered your favorite." he whispers after a few minutes of silence, you loudly peck both of his cheeks and giggle once you hear him murmuring idiot under his breath. you made yourself comfortable on the chair and started eating the food. you let out soft moans often because you haven't tasted this for a few months now, living off instant noodles even though the refrigerator is packed with all sorts of food.

"you're so sweet, writing me a letter." his eyes widened and he scrambled in his seat before standing up abruptly. he knocked his leg on the table leg in the process and you sent him a sympathetic look, but you waved the letter he wrote while squealing, your happiness leveling up if it was even possible.

"open it when i'm not around." he looks to the side and scratches the back of his neck. you nod too quickly before putting it on your bag, excited to spend time with your boyfriend. 

-

"kags! tap it gently on your face." you scolded him while he still looks at you, brows furrowed cutely. after washing the pans and utensils stacked up in the sink for an hour (he got distracted by your dancing to your favorite song).

you're in the bathroom in your comfortable pajamas and you actually convinced your boyfriend to do your skincare routine together. although he has a different one with only a few steps, he'd like to try your products or spend time with you and always be near you but he can't say it out loud for now.

"alright." he leans to see his face in the mirror and attempts to copy you, tapping the cream on his face. after rubbing your face for a few minutes, you watch him in the reflection and see his lips slightly puckered while he taps his face. warmth blooms in your chest while watching him, your mind envisioning doing simple things together and making it memorable.

you squish his cheeks tightly to get his attention before you even out the cream on his face, and don't notice him smiling to himself because of your concentrated face—a pout on your soft lips, the deep furrow of your brows, and the occasional tsk when you do something wrong.

"all done baby!" you quickly clap your hands together in front of him, and both of you chuckle loud hearing the wet sound. he clings to your side and wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his head to your neck, the fluffy headband and his hair making you squirm in his embrace. you swipe your balm quickly before running your fingers through your hair, checking if there are knots before patting kageyama's head.

"babe… the bed." you whisper and tug his wrist and he groggily walks to the bed, the exhaustion after his practice settling on his body you noticed. you plop onto the bed and immediately grab the sheets, hovering it over your body, about to roll over to cuddle your boyfriend. yet he turns you around, covers you with the blanket and rests his hand on your stomach, tangles his leg over yours, clearly not wanting you to go anywhere. 

"happy birthday… i don’t know where to start,“ he mutters softly as if he’s talking to the air, afraid to break the intimacy and warmth of this moment. you don’t say anything and bury your head on the pillow, your heart pounding loudly in your chest because of your boyfriend’s touch and his low and groggy voice in your ear.

even after being together for a while, some things remained the same.

kageyama is devoted to drinking a glass of milk every night, even if he’s exasperated after his practice. his cheeks always turn red whenever you drop him a casual compliment while you’re talking. the way you always peck his lips many times before both of you go out, and a wide grin comes to your face and you touch your lips, as if you haven’t kissed him before. 

“i know we started off bad, we had this love-hate relationship in high school... but when we became third years, things changed. my feelings changed,” he stops for a moment, while you suddenly turn around and hide in his chest. his body is frozen when you move, but he cuddles you nonetheless.

“‘m really glad you also had a change of heart and decided to love me. even after seeing my other sides that i don’t like, you continued to love me.” he ends his little speech with a kiss on the top of your head and he moves you closer. he hears your sniffles and the way you fist his shirt tight.

he hears you say, “thank you… i love you so much.” and a smile appears on his face, content with your response and everything that happened. 

kageyama narrowed his eyes to check the time and he realized one thing. the clock hits midnight which ends your birthday.

but, he thinks to himself, he wouldn’t stop showing how grateful he is for you, and he’ll keep loving you until the end of time.