#but i love doing it because i get to research

[minkieater]

yknow what ,,, who in atz makes love vs fucks ,, i am tinking abt it

FUCK THIS IS HARD. controversial take on atz tbh i cant believe mingi is where he is i want him to be a freak so bad but i must separate mental mingi and real mingi

FUCKS: freak bitches

1. hongjoong

hj is a possessive demon freak you can see it in his eyes fr. there isn’t a day that will pass without you getting split in two, he’s not just a freak but he has stamina and he’d rather do literally anything else but sleep, so what better way to pass the time when his brain is fried from making music than to fuck your brains out???? you love his libido and his ability to never turn it off, i don’t think his dick ever softens tbh not really. especially not when you’re talking to another man, that possessiveness really comes into play, it doesn’t matter who it is from your coworker to your friend he’s taking you to the next secluded spot and reminding you who the fuck you belong to. maybe toxic, but that’s hj, and when he’s done blowing your back out you’re reminded every single time that you don’t need anyone else but him (and you like it that way) (he’s my soulmate in the astral realm btw)

2. jongho

he’s a dominant freak and its so fucking sexy. his dominance slips into every aspect of your life, what you wear, what you do, who you talk to, what you eat, never in a toxic way, but in a way that he’s taking care of you, looking out for you, keeping you safe. he loves a good game of cat and mouse, loves when there’s a lil brattiness he has to tame, to assert his dominance all over again— there’s been several nights where you haven’t finished once because you disobeyed him, tears streaming down your cheeks with your legs shaking because you were so fucking close and he ripped it away last second, he knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand, he knows what you’re thinking half the time just by the look on your face. he’s got boxes of toys set aside, ropes and handcuffs and spreader bars, either for torture or your pleasure depends on your behavior (jongho ill be so good for you pls) and he is NOT afraid to use em. god hes so in tune with you and your body and his OWN his control is so fucking crazy i think i could keep going and actually talk about this for hours

3. wooyoung

he’s a fun freak!!!! giggly and experimental he wants you in every position he can think up, he’s creating his OWN positions when he runs out of ideas. he’s fucking you in public, in a dressing room, fingers slipping inside you under the table, a cocky little smirk on his face when you accidentally let a moan slip UGH he’s the type to not be weirded out by anything like if you find some weird shit on the internet and wanna try it out he’s 100% down. he’ll try anything once. you want to tap into omegaverse shit??? he’s barking for you and still fucking into you like its the first time. you wanna get into pee??? cum eating??? bondage??? cuckolding?? it literally doesn’t matter. he’s down and he’s researching and he’s educating YOU. he needs an experimental partner too tho cus his ideas are just as fucking crazy and he is NOT shy about sharing them with you. sex is fun with him, never boring, never stale, he keeps you on your toes just as much as you keep him on his, you’ve spent legit weekends in the bedroom because you tried something new and neither of you can get enough. toys, vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, cockrings, Strap Ons, you have them all, wooyoung is a yes man and no one can tell me differently. with a shrug and a smile on his face EVERY TIME he’s like yeah sure why not Omg and if there’s something that doesn’t work he’s like ok whatever and then just goes back to normal. sex is so chill and so fun and so experimental and there’s never any pressure FUCK wooyoung i fucking love you i got carried away

MAKES LOVE: sweet angels

1. yeosang

guys im sorry he’s here. i do think yeosang is versatile but not often enough to classify him in the middle, if you catch him on a day where is patience is thin he might be using his biceps to cut off your air flow while he’s fucking into you from behind, but on the day to day, he’s kissing every inch of your body, hands in your hair, petting your skin, cupping your cheeks, whispering sweet words, praises, everything is so fucking sweet it usually ends up with you in tears from the emotion passing back and forth between you. yeosang takes care of you in every way, there’s never a time where you finish unsatisfied, he makes sure of it. if you aren’t whining with tears streaming down your cheeks he isn’t done yet, he has stamina and he could fuck you for hours, even besides fucking he’s eating it for hours if thats the vibe. yeosang i want you so fucking bad

2. mingi

man :/

he’s a whiner. he’s sloppy and messy and so fucking virgin even after you’ve been fucking for years, every time is like the first time with mingi. while his hands grow more confident and his body has more stamina, he’s still fucking into you like it’s new, eyes screwed shut and staggered breaths leaving his chest because it’s inconceivable that you feel so fucking good— that’s something he’ll never get used to i fear, how you wrap around him so perfectly, how you’re so warm and wet it’s fucking war to not bust in you within three strokes. he doesn’t tho, he has pretty good control, up until you’re the one whining with tears slipping down your cheeks and he’s losing his fucking shit. elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head, tongue slipping into your mouth with no real rhythm, his cock rutting into you while barely pulling out, he’s addicted to your warmth, the feeling of being inside, the closeness, and god when he fills you up it just spurs him on farther. he’s not stopping until there’s three loads inside you with barely any reprieve between sessions, he’s spilling into you and fucking himself through the overstimulating, crying and whining and praising you because he loves you. im so fuckinf insane im an animal i fucking love this man i would die for him

3. san

this one should not be a surprise tbh san is a caregiver, the way he fucks is spiritual, its all consuming, its heavy and emotional and passionate and everything. you guys probably aren’t into anything hella freaky, farthest is probably a quickie in a dressing room every now and then, but most of the time he’s taking his time with you, stripping you of each scrap of fabric on your body with dainty hands and warm kisses, licking up your skin as if it was candy, telling you how you taste. he’s fucking into you with skilled precision, the movements of a man who’s taken the time to learn every inch of you, what makes you feel good. he’s big into breeding and he’s filling you up every time he def has a vasectomy. would never want u on any birth control because god forbid u change something about yourself for him!!! i feel like san is mad traditional in every way his fav position is probably missionary so he could see your face while he fucks you, holding your hands, kissing your lips that had long gone unresponsive against his own.

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE: both ways

1. yunho

hahahahahahahahahahahahahha this fucking freak bitch you know exactly what im gonna say. similar to jongho in the sense that he’s controlling many aspects of your life just because he can, he thinks its hot, and so do you. if you disobey him/make him feel disrespected he’s fucking you into next week, and he’s cruel about it, he’s not letting you cum, he’s holding your hands behind your back with one of his own just so you can’t touch him. he’s degrading you, vile words flying off his lips that make you clench tighter around him, he’s pinching your nipples until you’re crying. yunho dom agenda is so real. but he’s not like that all the time, you have your nights where you’re lost in kisses and sweet words and slow strokes, he fucks three loads into you because he wants to get you pregnant, would probably start trying to make you a mother a year into your relationship. if even that long tbh. yunho is mad versatile and he checks off every single box jeong yunho can i please have your phone number

2. seonghwa

😛 I WANT HIM SO BAD this freak bitch i still think he loves voyeurism and cuckolding and shares u. that blurb lives within me. i also think he is mad freaky like wooyoung, nothing puts him off, everything is hot and he wants to explore your sex life as much as he can, if something doesn’t work he’s like whatever we just wont do it again. prolly an ass eater on the regular. super flexible too he’s probably fucking into you from crazy angles like you’re both pretzels LMFAO fuck hes so hot i think seonghwa can do anything at any time. he’s another that loves to fuck you slow, but in a torturous way, like only fucking you with the tip until youre a crying mess begging for more. he definitely gets off on your whines, laughing in your face above you, but when he finally gives you what you want it’s shattering you. deep, heavy strokes, each one has his pelvis hitting yours, all while he’s kissing you sweetly and telling you how good you are for him. seonghwa freakbitch truther!

[miss-artimis-has-thoughts]

A thought that's been bouncing in my head this post but dead tired.

-

As Dick was walking back to the zeta tubes in the watch tower after meeting with Wally, he did not expect his entire world view to be flipped on its head. It started with hearing the voice of one of his brothers and deciding to mess with him. Tim was in one of the lounge rooms talking with Diana, which gave Dick the perfect opportunity to pull him into the ongoing sibling prank war that he had somehow been avoiding. He waited outside the door, listening for the right moment when he heard the question.

"The league's family day is coming up. Will your husband and the twins be attending?" Dicks first thought was that he must have missed a third person in the room before he heard his brother response. "I don't know, the twins would love it, but Phantom is still wary about taking them too far from home in case they have a destabilization episode or a development in their powers."

Dick knew that the conversation continued, but he had stopped paying attention. Tim was married. He had kids. Did anyone know? Obviously, Wonder Woman did, but did anyone in the family? He needed to figure this out. He sent a message calling for a family meeting sans Tim to figure out what was happening

-

Tim had been stressed the past few days. He didn't say anything, but Danny could tell. So, when the twins went down for their nap, he made his husband a nice cup of tea, decaffeinated because a stressed Tim was a Tim that had been awake far too long. As he gave his husband the cup, he asked what was wrong. "The bats have been acting weird the last couple of days. It's made patrol really awkward. But I'm pretty sure it's a family thing, so it feels wrong to ask." Danny laughed "Ah the age-old dilemma of being the only nonfamily member working at a family business. Happens all the time in small towns like Amity. What do you think you'll do?" Tim sighed "Normally I would just ask Oracle, but she's being weird too. And I can't just ignore it because it's throwing us all off during patrol and that dangerous. I guess I'll just have to call a meeting to address it."

Danny hugged his husband, "I'm sorry, work is stressful, Starlight. You're not supposed to patrol tonight, right? How about you call in at your day job tomorrow and we have some family time? I've been researching this nature trail about half an hour from my parents' house. It's got some great outlooks that I think you would love to get pictures from. We could go through the zone and be at my parents' first thing in the morning."

[hyuckmov]

himbo hyuck — finals season

2.8k smut & fluff (slight mommy kink, like...desperate needy hyuck stuff idk. power dynamics. fingering, creampie, handjob...the works) a/n: you ask, i deliver. himbo hyuck is back!!! for new readers, himbo hyuck is part of a 2 parter i did which you can check out here and here!

you have to admit, your boyfriend is a lot better at making things special than you are. he's done thorough research, he's asked friends for advice, he's driven for hours to buy you things you've mentioned off-handedly, he's painstakingly learnt recipes, he's made you breakfast in bed, he's done it all. and the best part is he's always happier just to see you happy, all the effort melting away when he gets to see you smile.

actually, he quite literally forgets about it.

"what do you mean, babe?"

you blink. "you went back to my family home, learnt how to make my favorite childhood dish, and brought it for me in a lunchbox for me to have between exams? don't you remember?" pause. "huh... oh yeah." another pause. "heh...you kissed me in front of everyone in your class. i remember that part."

exasperated, you place a hand on his shoulder. "you don't remember waking up at 3am to drive? you were so exhausted when you reached you couldn't see straight."

he waves off your words haphazardly with his free hand, the other already coming to rest on yours. "baby, you were kissing me. of course i couldn't see straight."

it's things like this that made you want to do something really special to celebrate the end of his exams. something that'll really get to him — his puffy lips widening into that pretty 'o' he makes, his eyes lighting up. he's been studying really hard — staying up late at night, getting you to quiz him whenever you have a bit of spare time. you catch him mumbling to himself when he's holding you before bed — hands absentmindedly tracing words down your back, pouty lips brushing against your neck, taking breaks to pepper kisses on your skin.

you clear your schedule on the day of his last exam: waiting eagerly for him to get home. his favorite meal warm on the stove, his favorite drinks stocked up in the fridge, and perhaps the thing you know he'll love the most — a pretty, lacey, babydoll lingerie set underneath a shirt of his you knew he loved to see you wear. it wasn't a complicated piece — you knew he didn't like bothering too much with straps and garters, it was all too confusing for him. he liked to see what was his, maybe a pretty ribbon at most, because he always seemed to skip right to the heat of it anyway — desperate and needy for you in a clumsy, endearing, and searingly hot way.

"fuck, baby..."

the door barely has a chance to close behind him before he's pouncing upon you on the couch. giddy, you take him in your arms — smelling the comforting sweet scent of his perfume, feeling his soft curls in your hands. he's burrowing himself into you, face in your chest, soft groans radiating from his chest as he settles himself in. at first, you think he's noticed the surprise already — the way his hands are shifting around your waist, brushing over your bare thighs. but his hands keep on roaming, never really settling, and you see that he's just caressing you the way he normally does after long days away — mapping, as if checking with himself that you're finally here.

"you're done, baby," you whisper, giving him a light squeeze. you say it in the tone you know he likes, and you can see the way his body melts, nodding, his face sinking further into your tummy. "how did it go?"

"not too bad," he breathes, stilling slightly. "i think. i...i'm really scared. there was this one question..."

"we don't have to discuss it now," you reassure him, and a hand across his shoulderblades instantly eases his nerves, and he resumes his touching again.

"hold me for a bit?" now it's his turn to whisper. "please. i really need..."

"hey..." you lift his head, making eye contact with him properly for the first time since he's come home. he's so tired, you can see it in his face, his lips tugged downwards in a frown that honestly looks foreign on him. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes still full of love and warmth, looking at you like you were his whole world. "haechan, are you okay?"

his lips part. "i...i miss you so much."

you don't want to ruin the moment, don't want to ask too many questions. just bring your hand to the back of his head, guiding it back to your chest. his eyelids flutter shut, and he practically whimpers, an achy, needy sound from the back of his throat as you feel his weight sink into you completely. it's quiet for awhile, just the two of you breathing in tandem. you're not sure what you can do, not sure what happened, how you can be there for him.

after awhile, he clears his throat. "i'm going to take a shower, then i'll be right back," he mumbles, leaning in for a kiss. he tastes like cherries, his tongue gentle against yours, hands caressing your cheek bones as he deepens the kiss. it's so comforting, that you're in a bit of a daze when he pulls away, his cheeks flushed, looking almost shy.

"haechan," you say, slowly. "are you sure you're alright?"

he nods. biting his lip, he hesitates for a moment, before leaning in to kiss you again.

"i just... you usually help me with all my studying, and i...when i was in the exam..." he breathes out, slowly. "i kept thinking about your voice. i was imagining you next to me, talking me through it. and i just..." he tilts his head, a hand now gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "i just love you so much, honey. i couldn't have done it without you," he whispers. "i want...i just really wanted to make you proud."

"oh, haechan—" you sit up too, throwing your arms around him. now it's your turn to tackle him to the couch, and your weight on him makes the smile return to his face. your lip feels a bit wobbly, as you look down at him, the face you love so much. "i'm always proud of you. i'm so proud of you. i love you so much too."

his grin is so bright it could light up the sun.

"yeah?"

you lean down to kiss him — and his hands roam your thighs, scrunching up your shirt, haphazardly skimming bare skin. your hands are all over his chest, brushing his neck, and his back arches, baring his neck to you, and you're sliding lower down his body, and his breathing starts to get heavy...

and then, you feel a finger hook just slightly onto the side of your lace panties.

"baby...?" he stills.

"haechan?"

"what's this?" clumsy, practically shaky hands lift up your shirt, and he inhales sharply. the shirt drops back over your thighs. "oh fuck. oh fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"language," you murmur, teasingly, shaking your head. your silly, lovable, sex-crazed, boyfriend. you can't help it — your ego swells.

"f-uck," he practically groans. now his hands are on his face, clutching at his hair. "baby. baby..."

"what's wrong?" you can't help it — you start to laugh a little, taking off the shirt. haechan's now clutching his chest.

"is this for me?"

you roll your eyes. "no. was waiting for someone else to come home."

haechan lets out a wounded sound, the kind a confused puppy would make.

"i'm kidding, i'm kidding." your fingers brush over the furrow in his brow. "of course it's for you."

he still looks skeptical. talk about trust issues — you feel guilty for playing with him so much when he's horny, but you really can't help it. it's just too fun, and deep down, you know he likes the torment.

"see?" you take his hands from where they lie on his chest, guiding them around your waist, such that they trace the lace over your chest. haechan looks fucked out already, eyes glazed over, his tongue heavy in his mouth. his hips shift, and you can feel how hard he is, pressing against you. "your favorite color," you murmur, hips starting to slowly grind against his. "reward for a rough week, baby boy."

he chokes out a moan. "how... how did you..."

"heard you the other day in the shower, baby." you tilt your head. "what have i told you about watching porn?"

he shakes his head. "was watching us." he's blushing furiously. "that...that one time."

"we could do it again if you'd like?"

he nods vigorously, hands shaking as they cross over to the ribbon in the center of your chest, tugging, the fabric coming loose around you, until it falls apart and you're bare for him, except for your panties still snug around your waist.

"m-mommy looks so good," he murmurs. "please...i..."

you lean forward, and he groans appreciatively, hands crossing over to your back to bring your chest closer to his face, latching onto your nipples eagerly. you keep your hips moving, as his push up against yours eagerly, getting more and more excited as his hands roam your back and chest.

"need it inside," he pants. "please. hurts."

playing into it, you pull down his pants, freeing his dick from his pants. he's just the right size, thick and heavy, blushy tip leaking all over your palm. he whimpers when you move away, crawling down his body as you position your lips over his tip.

"where does it hurt?" you ask, playing dumb. actually, you channel him a little, hands caressing his hips, his thighs. he's shaking, he's so pent up, tears gathering on his waterline. "where does it hurt, baby?"

his hand reaches out, grabbing at his base, squeezing hard, trying not to cum too soon.

"there?" you ask, letting his hand fall away limply as yours replaces his, wrapping your hand around him.

he shakes his head. "up," he whimpers.

you slide your hand up, making sure to apply pressure right below the tip. "here?"

"haaah, fuck," he shakes his head. then nods. then shakes his head again. "just...please..."

your palm glides over the tip, gathering the slick pre-cum as you start to stroke him, twisting your palm slightly. his head is thrown back, mouth ajar as he moans and whimpers into the still living room. his hips jump when he feels your tongue dig into his slit, licking up and down his dick casually.

but both of you know that rather than your mouth, its you that haechan really wants. you and your pleasure are the most important to him, so it only takes a beat before he's grabbing you, saying your real name, breaking out of it momentarily.

"baby, baby. sit back. please. i need you. i need to be inside you."

pulling off him with a slick pop, you smile, settling backwards as he sits up in a daze, crawling over you. tugging your panties off, he kisses them reverently, never breaking eye contact with you, before placing them delicately on the coffee table.

"i love these baby," he says. "i really do. thank you so much."

you're starting to feel a bit shy. worst time for it really, when he's grabbing you by the thighs and practically folding you in half, baring you to him. "it's just panties," you say, softly.

"it's never just panties, baby," he breathes. "you never stop trying for me. i..." he looks down, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit, his other hand instinctively coming to steady your hips, knowing your body well enough to predict the way you'd move. "it means more to me than i'll ever be able to express. you have no idea...i...even i have no idea." he's now playing with your puffy clit, distractedly, two long fingers dipping into your slit, working you open and ready for him. "i...i love coming home to you. i love having you love me...even if you wore nothing every night, i'd still be getting a fuckin' hard-on just lying in bed with you. wait fuck, i said that wrong..."

his fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes your insides feel like jelly. your grab onto his arm, and he nods absentmindedly. still thinking about his spiel. "i meant...even if you wore...like...the oldest most un-sexy pair of pajamas. wait...okay...everything you wear is fucking hot, i don't know what i'm saying..."

"baby, baby-" you pant. "i'm so close."

he blinks. "oh fuck, yeah." he starts to move his fingers in and out of your hole, rubbing your clit firmly with his thumb. "cum for me? hm?" you're at the mercy of his hands, looking up at him: his hair falling over his face, chest heaving, eyes looking at you with that perfect balance of love and lust, skin gleaming. and just like that you're cumming, feeling yourself suck in his fingers, watching the way his heart-shaped lips fall open at the feeling of you milking him.

he leans down, palms touching your face, making sure to bend his fingers outward so as to not dirty your skin, kissing you sweetly, pressing you deeper into the couch. you know you're leaking all over the place, and you can feel his heavy, hard, length against your thigh.

"inside," you mumble, spreading open your legs a little more, letting him rut against your core. "please."

"mhm. i got you, baby..." lining himself up, he pushes in slwoly, and you can feel the familiar, warm stretch of him filling you up. you feel full as he pushes into you, can feel the twitch of him inside you as he bottoms out, arms holding you as he suckles bruises onto your neck. you touch his shoulders, and he murmurs to make sure you're okay before starting to snap his hips, slowly grinding into you before picking up the pace. both your pleasures blur, he's spilling moans into your open mouth, and you roll your hips into his. his fingers find your clit again, and now he's barely pulling out before thrusting back into you, the thick head of his dick pressing insistently into you.

"you're...fuck...so warm...so tight, baby. fuck. i must not do this enough."

"it's been awhile," you concede.

"yeah?"

"yeah," you breathe, deciding to give in to a little neediness, just for fun. "been needing it haechan. been needing you for so long now."

"i...why don't i do this every day..."

"you're tired, baby."

"don't worry about that sweetheart, i'll work on it." he doesn't miss a beat. "if i..." he pants. "if you ever need me, and i turn you down, fucking use me. just p-push me back and use me because i'm clearly not in my right mind to be rejecting you, to be rejecting this sweet pussy, fuck-"

"firstly, i'm n-not going to do that," you laugh, breathlessly, as he whines out protests. "secondly, it's all yours, haechan. it's all yours."

"yeah," he groans. "all mine."

neither of you last long after that. a graze of his lips, a bit of pressure on your clit, and you're cumming again from the stimulation, squeezing tight around his length, and you feel well and truly impaled on him in that moment as you pulse around him. you can feel yourself suck him in even deeper, can feel the way his thrusts falter. he cums inside you shortly after, warm spurts of cum filling you up. it's more than usual, considering it's been awhile since the two of you fucked, and he rocks his hips into yours the whole time, small whimpers escaping his throat, little professions of love getting stuck in other groans and swears.

the apartment is quiet again, and you realise how loud the both of you were before. haechan rolls you around so you're on top again, pulling out to watch the cream drip from you, two rough fingers pushing against your puffy lips, spreading it around messily as his bites his lip, and you can tell he's already thinking of his next scenario, saving it in his memory.

"sensitive," you mumble, only half-disapprovingly. truth is, you don't even care, because of the way he looks up at you after, beaming, sheepishly whispering out an apology.

he grabs the panties from the coffee table, holding them up to the light. his other hand never leaves your back, soothing you, making sure you're alright. "i'm getting these framed, along with my grades."

you shake your head. "uh...we're not doing that."

"what about in the bedroom?"

pause. "i'll think about it."

"best day of my life," he breathes. "finished my exam with the help of my beautiful girlfriend,"

"all you, babe."

"your voice in my head, so to me it was you. came home to the most beautiful girl in the world...lying on the couch... in my clothes... wearing my favorite color..." he lists, dreamily.

"most beautiful girl in the world also made you your favorite dinner by the way," you add, nodding towards the kitchen. "and there's your favorite beer and soju in the fridge."

a beat. "y/n," he says, slowly and seriously. "don't fight me on this, but i'm going to make you cum three more times tonight."

himbo hyuck is part of a 2 parter i did which you can check out here and here

[thewritingfairy]

𓂃⋆.˚A long day

In which (Name) attempted to wash their hair and Duke ends up helping 

I'm feeling uh so it's a they/them reader with a non-specific curl type (the picture of the lady is just because I think she's so pretty-. I think she's from the interview with a vampire?) Because I did my hair for driving classes today (as you can't drive with clawclips in which I usually wear and I can't use a banana clamp because it can snap open) and I paid the price with my pain levels- SO this is based on my Nobody's child fic as I love that dynamic between Duke and (Name). trigger warnings: drabble unedited, Duke having small yandere-like tendencies but not a lot you ignoring the bats like it's a full time job

main m.list    series m.list   bad ending m.list

You are going to kill someone, specifically Dick. Because what do you mean 'I want to do your hair' when you don't even trust Dick? The only thing you want is to do your hair get to work, have a fun night shift and then go out with your friends.

Washing your hair is already a whole task, especially styling it with how stubborn it is, and you have no patience for Dick and his bullshit. You don't want him around especially with your irritation levels already rising. You are making such a mess and you can't seem to get all that shampoo out of your hair, you can't help but groan in anger as it all gets to much. Especially with Dick still trying to convince you to let him help you outside of your bathroom door. So without hesitation you text Duke;

˚₊IDIOT WITH NO WILL TO LIVE˙⋆

pls come save me from the moron named Dick and help me with my hair if you have the time I can't do this anymore- I'll own you

˚₊MY FAV BROTHER˙⋆

Coming, I get to pick your hairstyle :)

˚₊IDIOT WITH NO WILL TO LIVE˙⋆

I'm fine with that, just pls don't let me do this, my arms are already burning after just shampoo, my pain is having trouble with deciding to be low or so high that I feel like passing out ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

Duke truly is a miracle worker, Dick was waiting outside of your bathroom door attempting to convince you to let him do your hair and the second Duke said; "Please fuck off."

He fucked off.

Truly, he needs to teach you his ways.

When you unlocked the bathroom door Duke winces, the bathroom is a mess and you are basically hyper ventilating with water running down your face and neck. "Jesus, I'm glad that your uniform is a button up-" he mumbles as he grabs a towel to wipe down the floor. "go hang over the bad tub, I'm washing your hair as well as styling."

"I love you," you say as you sigh in relief. "I can not do this on my own."

"You can, just not today," Duke hums patting your back in a comforting matter. "so let me do it."

You hum as you close your eyes. It feels like heaven as Duke rubs in your shampoo, once you feel better you really need to learn new tricks to do your hair on your own. But for now you'll enjoy his help.

But to Duke this is amazing, you hate it when people touch your hair. He had helped you before, as well as your friends but that was only after procedures. Researches that left you unable to care for yourself. Yet here you are trusting him enough to help you even when you can still move, he knows it's because you have to work and you have plans tonight. Plans he'll follow you to ensure your safety

but you still asked for his help

While he was doing your hair you two chatted about your plans tonight. Willow had convinced all of you to try out this new karoake place in some abanoned part of Gotham (truly who starts a Karoake joint in the middle of nowhere?) and all of you thought it would be pretty funny to see Maria fail at singing high notes (something you suck at as well, but that's why you two always sing together, double the fun!).

"Do you want to airdry or diffuse?" Duke asks when he's finished with styling.

"Difusse, airdrying takes too long," you tell him as you grab your diffuser. "I know you hate difussing, but can you help me with the back? I don't care if it's get frizzy."

"Alright, just tell me you have heat protectant." He groans out as he takes the machine out of your hand looking at it like it's cursed.

"uh-"

"Idiot-"

fun fact I never diffuse because it brings my pain up so high I cannot move my arm for a whole ass day- And it makes my hair dry and stringy. like actual straw idk if it is because my hair is a mix of fine to normal to some thick-ish strands. Duke hating diffusers is just me hating on them-

taglist (main story): @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[firingstars]

neighborly advice | ch. 10 [FINAL]

bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky finally discuss what your relationship is.

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, oral (male receiving), riding, language, bucky's kinda? submissive, angst, fluff, happy ending! yippee!, no use of y/n, alternating pov's, bucky briefly gets in his head with the self loathing, he stalks for like two seconds, peter is your best friend now!

word count: 7.8k

a/n: its over :') what am i to DOOOOOOOO i will miss this characterization of reader i thought she was so funny lmfao idk if anyone does this but i legit made myself giggle more than a few times

previous chapter | masterlist

Bucky couldn’t bring himself to approach her in the upcoming days. He was home, and realized quickly that he shouldn’t be avoiding the apartment he paid for to hide in the compound because he was afraid of a little confrontation. Or rejection, actually. Bucky was very clearly hellbent on the fact that this was a rejection waiting to happen.

Even when he was in his apartment, he stayed silent. He didn’t want her to know he was home. He knew it was foolish, stupid, that he was just delaying the inevitable, but he couldn’t help himself. Bucky was at a loss.

It wasn’t difficult for Bucky to find out that she had finally gotten a new lab and new sponsor– both of which were long term commitments written out by contract that would not be broken any time soon. It also wasn’t that hard to find out that Peter was her only teammate helping her work on her technology. 

How close were the two of them able to get in his absence? They had to be close enough, he realized, for her to have gone out drinking with the guy then bring him home.

Bucky didn’t even want to imagine what happened once they crossed the threshold of her apartment door. Did anything else happen where he couldn’t hear? Did things progress quickly between the two of them? Was there someone else that she looked at with that fond smile and sparkling eyes that he adored?

Bucky was never an insecure man. Though he had baggage and some self loathing issues, he had no issue with himself in terms of appearance. Sam never stopped reminding him, either. Yet, this boy, this other man seemed to fit her side much better.

Another university student, much closer to age to her than he would ever be. This kid understood technology, and the two of them would be able to bond over their shared love of science on a level that he wouldn’t be able to converse with her on. Peter looked softer, kinder, and seemed much more gentle than he could ever be. Bucky even looked into Peter’s background, just to make sure that he wasn’t secretly a criminal. Bucky’s heart dropped when he realized he couldn’t even hate the kid. There was nothing that he had done wrong in his entire life.

So, Bucky watched from afar. He felt like some sort of fucking stalker doing this, but he couldn’t help himself. If she was happy with someone else, then who was he to deny her of that happiness? He watched as the two of them would grab lunch together in between research and classes. He felt every inch of pain radiate through his body when she would laugh at something that kid said, and hate seeing the smile on her face– hate that it wasn’t him that she was smiling for.

Peter was a stable choice for her, Bucky decided on his own. Perhaps it would be better for her to find someone normal, he thought. Someone that wouldn’t leave her behind for days to weeks at a time because the world needed him, when all he wanted to do was stay by her side. Bucky realized that he wouldn’t be able to provide her the stability that she deserved, no matter how hard he would try to provide it to her. 

“So your boyfriend–”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“So your not-boyfriend, hot neighbor that you’re sleeping with goes on business trips that call for absolute silence, and you’re still pining for him? Am I getting this right?” Peter asked you with a raised eyebrow.

You let out a deep sigh, burying your face in your hands. “You make it sound so bad.”

“I’m not gonna lie… I think that’s kinda bad. Really bad,” Peter said, giving you a look from across the lab table. You groaned deeply.

“Why did I even ask you for advice if you were just gonna point out the obvious?” you asked him with a frown.

“Well, hold on. I’m still trying to process this,” Peter said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat up straight on the lab stool. “Have you tried texting him first? Calling him?”

“I mean– I did. The other day,” you admit– because you did. You texted him in the middle of the day, hoping that wherever he was the sun was also out. It wasn’t anything large or grand, but just a simple question.

Are you doing okay?

Your phone alerted you that your message was not delivered almost immediately. Multiple scenarios were running through your mind at the time. Maybe his phone was dead or turned off. Dead, since Bucky’s possibly always on the move during his missions. Turned off so there would be no signal interference, or maybe someone was tracking his phone and he needed to go off the radar.

Or maybe, he blocked your number. He didn’t want to talk to you anymore. 

You didn’t even think of the possibility that he was dead somewhere. It was the most unlikely scenario to you. Bucky, in all his glory and strength, couldn’t die. Maybe he would sustain one bad injury every once in a while, but the super soldier was resilient. 

You were more than certain that he blocked you.

“And what? Nothing in return?”

“He can’t have his phone with him during these… business deals…” you said slowly, trying to find the right words to describe his job. Honestly, you might be making Bucky sound like even more of an asshole by not being truthful about his job, but you can’t just expose him like that. 

“Right… Why? Did he ever say that? Tell you why he can’t?”

“It’s sensitive information that he deals with.” You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about the fact the man you have a crush on has a metal arm, and was recently a wanted criminal all over the world. 

“Do you realize how insane you sound?” Peter asked, giving you a look of concern.

“Yes! Okay, God– Can you be better at girl talk? Why do all guys try to solve the issue at hand when girls complain? I just want you to listen to me, agree that it’s a problem, and then whine with me!” you exclaimed at him. 

“I’ve never had girl talk before, so I’m also learning the fundamentals on how this works,” he quickly said. 

“Did MJ not ever complain to you about issues she had with her friends?” you frowned at him.

“Well, MJ was kinda a self made loner,” Peter said, a small smile coming onto his face as he recalled memories of his maybe-ex-girlfriend. “She became friends with my best friend because I introduced them. Otherwise, it was just the three of us together. She didn’t really have other friends to complain about.”

“Why don’t you get Dr. Strange to undo the spell he did?” you sighed, running your hand through your hair.

“Because it would destroy the multiverse. Weren’t you listening when I told you?” Peter asked, frowning.

“I mean, I was, but I still think you’re full of shit,” you tell him. “Come in here with the suit on and then I might believe you.”

Peter sighed deeply and rolled his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. 

The two of you had gotten especially close after that night you went drinking. He crashed on your sofa after you dragged him up the five flights of stairs, and thankfully did not throw up everywhere. When you woke up, he seemed to remember what he had told you the night before and looked absolutely horrified that you knew his ‘secret.’ 

After telling him that you didn’t really believe a drunk man’s words, he ended up confessing to you about the whole situation. You’d be lying if you said you understood everything right away. The multiverse? Different versions of him coming to Earth, along with other enemies that were going to threaten the collapse of all universes?

Then again, you remember Thanos and being snapped out of existence, so maybe it wasn’t such a far fetched story in the end. 

Either way, it seemed like a weight had been lifted from Peter’s shoulders after he confessed it to you– to somebody. You still weren’t sure if you believed it, but the look of desperation on his face was enough for you to tell him that you were someone that wouldn’t forget him. He cried that morning, saying that he’d felt so alone for so long.

You felt a sort of kinship with the guy.

“How many times have you contacted him since he left?” Peter asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Just… once,” you muttered, looking away. You can feel the weight of Peter’s eyes on you, taking in the two words that you managed to force out.

“Are you sure that you like him?” 

“I don’t like your accusatory tone right now, Parker,” you said, head turning to look at him again. The boy raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. You sigh deeply. “I– I’m not his girlfriend, you know? What if I’m clingy about it? If I start texting him all the time when he’s gone, then what does that look like? What if I bother him?”

Peter sighed deeply. “I honestly don’t even know what to say about this. I’m bad at relationships, but this just seems messy in a way that I can’t help.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, dropping your head onto the lab table. 

At the very least, finally being able to talk to someone about all of this made your shoulders feel lighter. Peter, despite his comments, had no judgement in his eyes. Honestly, you think he’s just worried for you. Which, you can’t even be mad about. If this were someone else’s situation, you would be reacting the same exact way that Peter was.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said with a sigh, standing up.

“Where?” you asked with a sad frown.

“To the deli. I realize that girl talk makes me hungry.”

You let out a scoff at that, but move to grab your things as well. You shove some notebooks into your bag as well as a couple of other trinkets that you’ll work on at home tonight, and you pick up your phone. You swallow as you tap on the screen, watching it come to life.

You can’t hide the disappointment on your face.

No new notifications.

Your phone gets shoved to the deepest part of your bookbag as you follow Peter out the door. You have no appetite to eat. You haven’t had an appetite the past four weeks at all. You know that Peter would break down your apartment door if you didn’t join him to eat at least once a day whenever you guys were together– which was almost every single day at this point. You were certain that you saw his face more than you saw your own in a mirror. 

“What if he hates me?” you suddenly asked him.

“Oh my God. Please, no more,” he begged you, sincere.

Peter walked you back to your apartment after the two of you ate at the deli. The sun was going down, and it was a common occurrence for him to bring you home on the late nights that you guys worked together.

“Spider-Man things,” he said with a shrug. “I feel better knowing that you got home safe.”

“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, huh?” you chuckled as you got up to the fifth floor. You’re unlocking the door when Peter grabs your arm, stopping you.

“You said your neighbor isn’t home, right?” he asked, frowning.

“He normally texts me when he is,” you nod. “Which he hasn’t.”

“I can hear movement on the inside of his apartment,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he stared at Bucky’s door. You pause, trying to focus on your own hearing. You don’t hear jack shit. You turn back to him with a frown of your own, and he lets out a deep sigh. “Spidey senses.”

“Spidey senses,” you repeat, your voice dry. “What’s next? You're gonna tell me the deli meat was two hours from expiring because of Spidey taste buds?”

“Okay, founder of regenerative nanotechnological medicine, I’m sorry that I don’t have long scientific names to explain what my abilities are!” he hissed at you.

“It’s just a little hard to believe that you’re fucking Spider-Man when you refuse to stick onto the wall like a spider!” you hiss back. You’re not even sure why the two of you are whispering. Bucky isn’t here.

“Oh my God, is that what it’ll take for you to believe me? For me to hang upside down on the ceiling?” 

“Wouldn’t that make you Batman?” you asked, fighting a grin.

“HA! HA!” he laughed sarcastically at you, with just those two syllables. 

You’re about to burst out into real laughter when the door beside yours opens. You both freeze, turning to the door. Your mouth falls agape, staring. Bucky’s there, staring right back at you– staring at where Peter has a hand on your arm.

“Buck–”

“Your boyfriend is the Winter fucking Soldier?” Peter asked, cutting you off. Your head whips over to him now, eyes wide in panic and shock.

“What the fuck! Keep your voice down!” you whisper-shout at him. “How the hell do you know that–”

“Holy shit! You got a vibranium arm now, too? I thought King T’Challa hated you,” Peter continued, ignoring you to stare at Bucky’s metal arm. 

You’re staring at him, more confusion painting your features as you do. Then, Peter turns to face you, pointing at Bucky.

“I fought him, as Spider-Man. Do you remember that Sokovia Accords bullshit? I was on Iron Man’s side,” he quickly tells you, and there's a notable excitement in his voice. “I was like, fifteen years old, and he punched me real hard a couple times. Steve, too. I had a black eye for like, two weeks.”

You take a deep breath, your mind spinning. “Peter. What the fuck ar you talking about?”

“Don’t Peter me!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “You made him seem like such an asshole, ignoring your texts for a business trip? You could’ve just said it was the Winter Soldier and I would’ve understood why he has to fucking ignore you when he’s on those so-called business trips!” 

“Peter–”

“You texted me?” Bucky asked, his voice soft, cutting the two of you off. Your breath hitches as you turn to look at him again, and you nod wordlessly. Bucky blinks at you, eyebrows furrowing. “My phone… is in the ocean, somewhere. I have a new number– just got a new phone the other day.”

“See!?” Peter exclaimed. “The Winter Soldier– oh my God. You’re insufferable, you know that? You really could’ve just said it was him–”

“You’re so fucking loud, we’re in the middle of the hallway, Parker,” you hissed, pushing your door open to shove Peter inside. “Why don’t you just announce his identity to the rest of the damn building?”

“Sorry, Sergeant!” Peter called out to him from inside your apartment. Then, he takes the door from you, and gently pushes you further into the hall while taking your bag and keys from you. “You go talk to him though. I’ll work on the regenerative piece.”

Then, he’s closing your own door in your face, leaving you in the hallway with Bucky still staring at you. Your mind is still spinning at how fast everything just happened, the amount of information that was just thrown at you, and you bury your face in your hands. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Bucky suddenly asked, his voice still soft. You lift your face out of your hands to look at him. He’s already opened the door wider for you to come in, and stepped to the side as well.

He looks… exhausted. It’s not the same sort of tired that he usually looks when he comes back from a mission, either. This is different. It makes your chest hurt to see him like this. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, and move to enter his apartment.

You can’t help but feel a bit awkward in his apartment. You’re not sure why. The air is different for some reason. Tense. You try to be natural, moving towards his couch like you always do, and sit down. You try not to notice the way that he’s basically dragging his feet to join you, avoiding your eyes. 

“I’m sorry about… him. Peter, I mean,” you finally speak, clearing your throat. Your leg is bouncing up and down, your throat feels like it’s about to close in on you, and your hands are becoming clammy. 

Bucky’s quiet. He’s leaned forward, elbows on his knees, flesh and metal fingers interlaced tightly. His gaze is trained on the wall, the coffee table, his feet. Everywhere but you. You begin to feel a bit restless. 

“I didn’t– I didn’t tell him anything about you like that. I mean, I talked about you to him, but I didn’t tell him who you were. I was talking about us, and how worried I was that you were gone and that I haven’t heard from you in a while– I never said that you were an asshole,” you quickly said, and you feel like you’re rambling. Your voice dies out on your tongue as you stare at your own fidgeting hands.

���You told him that I was your boyfriend?” Bucky asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s still not looking at you. Your heart quickens in your chest. Did he hate it? Hate the idea of it?

“No!” you exclaimed immediately, feeling your face turn red with embarrassment. “I said you were my neighbor and we had something going on and that I wouldn’t mind if you became my boyfriend but I– I didn’t say…”

A strange silence fell between the two of you. You didn’t necessarily feel uncomfortable, but you would be lying if you said that you felt comfortable, too. This was the longest that you had ever been in Bucky’s presence and he hadn’t looked at you. You were used to being under his constant watch, every movement and shift of your body being quietly recorded into his head.

“Bucky?” you whispered, swallowing thickly. “Was… Did the mission go well?” 

You can’t think of any other reason for him to be acting like this, truthfully. Something must have happened for him to be acting like this.  He said he got a new phone the other day, meaning that he was home. He was home, and he just didn’t want to see you. You lived right next to him, and you didn’t even know he was there. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” you tried next. Your eyes scanned his body. You didn’t see any wounds on him, but then again he had already been home for a couple of days. He would have already healed all the minor injuries.

You felt like you were talking to a wall. There was no response from him. He didn’t even move to indicate that he had heard your words. Nothing about this was natural or normal behavior. You wanted to be upset that he didn’t let you know that he was here– ask why he didn’t think to contact you immediately.

But you didn’t have that right to demand that from him.

So, you sat there silently. Waiting. You watched him carefully. The only telltale sign that he was even here in front of you was the slight movement in his chest to let you know that he was breathing. Every second that passed felt like an hour in the room. Yet, you decided you would hold on, and patiently sit there until he gathered his thoughts to be able to speak to you.

“I thought you and that kid were involved.”

You recoiled at his words, eyebrows furrowing. “Peter?”

“I saw you both. Saw you bring him to your apartment when he was drunk,” he confessed, burying his face in his hands. “I thought you replaced me while I was gone, so I didn’t want to bother you. Then today, I heard you two talking outside– and I just… I wanted to see your face.”

“Wait,” you said, blinking. “You avoided me because you were jealous?”

“I thought you were dating him, doll. Not just jealous,” he corrected, sighing deeply.

“Dating– in just three weeks?” you asked, even more confused. “We’ve been seeing each other for almost much longer than that, and we aren’t even official–”

“That’s why!” he exclaimed, finally turning to look at you. “That is exactly why!”

“There’s no way you’re trying to say that I deserve better. Are you?” you ask, eyebrows raised. The way Bucky’s jaw clenched told you all that you needed to know. “Bucky. Are you serious?’

“He’s a good kid,” he dismissed, looking down. “Smart. Bright future. A bit of a tragic past, but you seem to attract people that are mildly to severely depressed anyways–”

“You did a background check on him?” you cut him off, eyes wide.

“I needed to make sure that he wasn’t a psychopath with mental issues that would kill you!”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” you asked.

“Yes, so that’s what I’m saying– he would be a much better fit. He helps you with your research and he’s apparently fucking Spider-Man which has yet to be proven–”

“I’m not attracted to him! Did you not hear any of that conversation out there? I talk about you to him. Extensively! He listens to me complain and whine about the fact that I miss you!” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that he is a much better choice!”

“Is that what you want? You want me to walk out of here and choose somebody else?!” you demanded, standing up. You were heading towards the door, trying to prove your point when he grabbed your arm, forcing you to stop. 

“No! I don’t! Why would I ever want that?!” Bucky shouted back at you. He looked scandalized, as if you’d asked him to wear a maid costume in the middle of Central Park.

“Then what do you want?!”

“You! I want you!”

“I’m yours, Bucky! I’m already yours, what don’t you understand?!”

“What– just like that?” 

“Yes, just like that!”

“Fine!” he scoffed.

“Fine!” you mocked.

The exchange happened so fast, so quick. You two were staring at each other, breathing heavily. Then, he released your arm, dragging a hand down his face in frustration as he took a deep, controlled breath. His eyebrows were pinched close together as he tried to gather himself.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” he murmured.

“How you wanted what to go?” you frowned. “Your self deprecating, loathing speech or this stupid argument?”

“Well, I didn’t want either of these to happen at all, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head as he dropped his hands to his sides. “I… God. I just– I missed you.”

“And I missed you,” you said, your body relaxing from tension you didn’t know you were holding. 

Bucky clenched his jaw, and swallowed. “You weren’t mine. Officially, at least. So if you found someone else while I was gone, then I figured that I couldn’t have a say in it. That it was my fault for just… disappearing this time for three, four weeks.”

“The way I looked at it,” you sighed, “I couldn’t be mad that you didn’t tell me anything. I figured the silence was for your safety.”

“Yours, actually,” he shook his head. “There was a possibility of my phone getting tracked, and I didn’t want anyone being able to get back to you. Which is why my phone ended up in the ocean– it was compromised. Took the battery out and removed the SIM and threw everything out after shattering it.”

“But other than that?” you asked softly, feeling worry course through your veins. “You’re okay?”

“Mission’s over. Chapter closed,” he reported, letting out a breath. “Minor injuries, but nothing that hasn’t already gone away. I’ll be home for a while. Nothing’s on the books right now.”

You nodded slowly, sighing in relief. That was all you wanted– not him staying home, but just knowing that he was safe. 

“And… us,” you said softly. “What about us? Where do we go from here? Because I really don’t know if I can handle another month of silence like this. I’m not asking for daily updates or classified information. I just want to know that you’re alive, Bucky.”

“I can do that,” he quickly said, hands reaching for you. They rested on your arms, and his eyes locked with yours. “We can get encrypted phones that send scrambled data so even if there were someone trying to track messages, they wouldn’t be able to trace ours– no one would be able to get to you. I already have a few people keeping an eye on a couple of your lines to ensure your safety, and will have them report to me if there’s a flag somewhere.”

You blinked. “What– Right now?”

Bucky paused, his mouth falling open briefly he closed his eyes tight. “I… also needed to make sure you were safe while I was gone. My line of work isn’t the best thing, doll. I might be doing good things, but there are some fucked up people that would do anything to stop me and the people I work with.”

“No, I mean… We’re not even… together. Why would you go that far for me?”

“So?” he frowned at you. “You’re important to me. I don’t want anything to happen to you regardless.”

“Bucky, how deep are your feelings for me?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Doll, I’m falling so hard for you and I never want to stop,” he answered immediately. “I think you’re it for me.”

“And you were going to let me go?”

“I just want you to be happy. With or without me– and with what I do for work, I can’t blame you if you end up choosing to walk away from me. I know you plan for the future, and everything you do is carefully thought out. I just… I don’t want to hold you back from anything.” 

You were at a loss for words. He was sincere. Both the tone of his voice and the look on his face let you know that. You couldn’t even conjure up a simple sentence to reply to his confession– the feelings that you wanted to hear from him. So, you reached for him instead. You pulled him down to you, angling your head up towards him into a devastating kiss. He reciprocated immediately.

You missed him so much.

One arm wrapped around your waist, the other one snaking up your back to have his hand cradle your neck to deepen the kiss as he held you even tighter to him. You sighed against him, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your lips. 

“Doll? Does this mean–”

“You’re mine, Sarge,” you confirmed, a little breathless. “Lost your chance to get rid of me.”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” he chuckled, a smile ghosting on his lips as he caught you in another kiss. 

You both tumbled into his bedroom, clothes being haphazardly shed as you two made your way there. His shirt came off first. Yours followed quickly after. While you undid the ties of his sweatpants and began to shove them down his legs for him to step out of, Bucky unclasped your bra and threw the underwear somewhere off to the side that you weren’t even sure that you would find later. Your jeans came off last, and you were thankful you wore something baggier today to be able to shimmy off easily. 

Your hands ran all over his body, feeling for any cuts, maybe any swelling. To your relief, you saw none. You squeezed his sides experimentally to test if he would flinch slightly under your grasp, and quietly thanked every deity out there when he didn’t react. 

He laid you down onto the bed, only for you to use every ounce of your own strength to flip the two of you over. You straddled him now, but did not sit fully on top of him. You simply hovered, keeping your weight off of him.

“What are you doing, baby?” he chuckled, hands resting on your thighs.

“I’m still mad,” you said with a fake, deep sigh. A hand rested on his neck, then slowly trailed down to his collarbone. “I don’t really think you get to touch me tonight.”

“No?” he asked, eyebrow raising.

“No,” you echoed, a small smile playing on your lips as your hand continued its journey down his sternum, moving to feel the ripples of his abdomen under your fingertips. You hummed in approval, stopping at the waistband of his briefs. “If you touch me, I might just pack up and leave. Go back home. Peter’s waiting for me, after all. We were supposed to finish the antiseptic release component of our second prototype for the regenerative nanotech. I’ll probably just send him home early and use that vibrator that you hate so much.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered. Your hand moved slowly, just ghosting over the length of him. He was already hard.

“You always get so excited for me, so easily,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

“What can I say? You have that effect on me,” he grunted, his hips bucking up to meet your hand. Your other hand moved, pressing against his thigh. 

“Nuh uh,” you clicked your tongue at him. He groaned, closing his eyes tight. 

“Doll.”

“Just relax, Sarge. Let me take care of you for once. The mission was long, right? I made you stressed out and jealous, right? I wanna show you how much I really like you,” you hummed, grinning at him. 

Bucky let out a shaky breath, “You said no touching?”

“No touching,” you confirmed.

“Fuck,” he grunted, removing his hands from your thighs. You beamed at him, pressing your hand against his length fully now. At the same time, you pressed your chest against his as your lips attached to skin where his neck met his shoulder. Bucky let out a soft groan, moving his head to the side to grant you more access to him. 

You had to admit, this was different. You hadn’t expected him to let you just take over like this without a fight. All the other times you spent with Bucky, he never gave you the impression that he would want to be in this position. Maybe today was just a special day. 

You left a dark bruise on his neck. Happy with your work, you gave him another one on his collarbone, and another one on his chest. Then, you slipped your hand under the waistband of his underwear to touch him directly. Bucky moaned softly at the first contact, eyes closing shut as you took him in your hand, slowly spreading the precum from the tip of his cock down the sides and starting a lazy pace. 

He was so pretty like this. You never really had the chance to admire him while he was in such a vulnerable state. Bucky was always so focused on you, getting you to be in this kind of headspace. You could see why. You could get addicted to seeing him like this.

You moved once more, kissing lower and lower. 

“Buck, help,” you murmured, tugging on his briefs with your free hand. He opened his eyes to look down at you, where you were. His eyes went wide, just slightly.

“Jesus, doll,” he moaned. “You gonna suck me off?”

You gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Wanna taste.”

“Shit,” Bucky whispered, but lifted his hips up slightly for you to help remove the last piece of clothing off of his body. The thick length of him hit his stomach with a soft thud, and you stared for just a moment, feeling your stomach jump at the sight. Your own walls clenched over nothing, but you ignored it for now. 

You reached for him once more, holding him at the base loosely. You watched him as you licked a thin strip up from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip, seeing his eyes close tight, watching him fist the sheets by his side. Then, you licked up the cum that had leaked out as you had stroked him earlier. You moaned at the saltiness of him– he tasted exactly like you thought he would.

His chest was falling and rising at a faster rate now.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as your lips closed around the tip of him, and he swallowed thickly as you started to take him in deeper. You may have been way over your head. You thought you knew the length and size of him from him being inside of you multiple times, but fuck he was large. You opened your mouth wide to take him in, your jaw already beginning to ache as you sucked your cheeks in to create a seal.

When you finally fit him, you started to move, bobbing your head up and down while keeping your tongue flat against him.

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he praised from above you, his voice coming out as a wrecked noise.

You hummed from beneath him, his hips jolting in response to the vibration. The tip of him hit the back of your throat, and you choked, freezing in place as you tried to calm yourself down. Bucky, on the other hand, reacted positively to the feeling of being in your throat. His thighs clenched under your hands and his abs tensed. 

You forced your throat to relax, and you reached for one of his hands. You could feel the hesitation when you touched him, but he allowed you to guide him to your head– and he weaved his fingers through your hair as you took him deeper into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears that ran down the sides of your cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to care with the reactions that he was giving you.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky moaned out your name, his hand tightening around your hair as he pushed. You moaned into him, eyes falling shut as you kept moving. You didn’t want to stop, not when he was this responsive. He was damn near trembling underneath you, moaning like you’d never heard before. You were high on endorphins and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

Then, you felt it. The jump and twitch in his cock that you often felt inside of you– the telltale sign that he was going to cum. You heard the broken moan fall from his lips next, another indicator. You wanted it. You wanted to taste all of him.

“I can’t– Shit– Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he warned you, his voice coming out broken and desperate. You moaned around him, trying to tell him that it was okay and to please cum. You weren’t sure if it was the vibration from your throat or if he understood, but he was moaning your name a moment later.

You always loved the feel of him filling you up to the brim. This was a different feeling, and you loved it all the same. The salty bitterness of it was delightful, and you swallowed up every drop greedily. It came out in thick, hot spurts, filling your mouth so full that you thought you were going to leak out from the corners of your lips.

When you finally released Bucky from your mouth, he looked down at you, breathless. 

“You okay?” you asked, your voice coming out slightly hoarse from having him in your throat. Bucky stared at you for a few moments before you were both sitting up. 

You were pulled into his lap, legs on either side of his hips, his mouth on yours. If he cared about tasting his own release, he didn’t voice it. His tongue was on yours, licking into your mouth like a man on a mission.

“Gotta be inside you, doll. Please? Let me touch you now?” he begged, kissing down your neck. A shiver ran down your body at the sound of his voice. He was so needy.

“Wanna ride you,” you told him, reaching between your bodies to feel him– he was already hard again, as if he didn’t just release a fat load into your mouth. His refractory period was always short.

You pushed against his chest next, his back hitting the headboard as you quickly moved. You took off the final piece of clothing that separated the two of you, discarding your underwear somewhere to the side. Bucky groaned at the sight of your pussy glistening, exposed to him. 

You positioned yourself over him, both of you letting out a soft moan as you let him slide against your folds, wetting him with your own juices for a few moments. His hands rested on your hips as you did, but he took no charge in moving you. You finally shifted properly, catching the tip of him in your entrance, slowly sinking down on him.

You hadn’t had him in a month. 

The stretch was delicious, your eyes falling shut, your moan mixing with his as your forehead rested against Bucky’s. His hands tightened on your hips, letting you know how much he was being affected by just the feel of you surrounding him like this. He waited for you to be ready, to move first. 

You grinded against him experimentally, whimpering at the feeling. Then, you started. You lifted your hips, then slammed back down onto him. You watched as his head hit back against the headrest, his eyes closing shut as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, your head dropping onto his shoulder.

“Yeah? Let me make you feel better, baby,” he grunted. “Let me fuck you even better.”

You weren’t the most athletic person ever. Your thighs were beginning to burn, your legs were getting tired, your core was getting sore– and you wanted Bucky to fuck you. But you wanted to watch him like this just a little bit longer. 

“Mm… Not yet,” you said, letting out a breathy giggle as you ground your hips against his again. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning his head against yours. He started rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs, trying to coax you as you continued to ride him. “Come on, baby. I know you love it when I fuck you– when I play with your clit and press against your stomach. You want me to do that for you? I’ll fuck you through your orgasm, make you cum again and again for me. It’ll feel so good, doll.”

You whimpered at his words, eyes rolling back. You were breaking. You did want that. 

“I’ll put a pillow under your hips, too. It’ll let me hit inside you deeper. You always ask for me to go deeper, don’t you?” he continued, voice low and lips close to your ear. “Always want me so hard and deep– never fast. Just always wanting to feel all of me.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, gripping onto his forearms.

“Just let me know when, pretty girl. Tell me when, and I’ll take such good care of you,” he promised, squeezing your hip again. 

You let out another breathy moan, contemplating your options, recognizing your burning hips… Then nodded. A moment later, you were on your back with a pillow folded in half under your hips– and Bucky snapped his hips into you with enough force to move the bed a couple inches. 

“There you go,” Bucky whispered, eyes roaming all over your figure as he set a slow, yet punishing pace. He fulfilled everything he said he would. 

His fingers were dancing on your clit, another hand was pressed against your abdomen, he was fucking into you hard and deep– everything to make you fall apart as quickly as possible on his cock.

“It’s too much,” you gasped, eyes falling shut.

Bucky chuckled from above you. “Too much? You wanted this, doll. Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head violently, unable to find the words. You gripped at the pillows at your head, feeling the thread within you begin to pull taut as Bucky continued to play your body like a well tuned instrument. At this point, he might as well be a master at your body. 

Bucky knew your body better than you knew it. 

You didn’t even need to tell him that you were about to cum– he was already moving faster, trying to get you to the end quicker. He never stopped fucking you as your body tensed under his. Bucky moaned, hips stuttering as your walls clenched and fluttered over his cock deliciously.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned, grabbing at him as your hips moved to meet with his. “More–!”

“Don’t worry, doll. I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. 

“Personally, I think it would be smarter for both of you to just move to the compound. Safer, too,” Sam said as he helped carry the last of the boxes into the truck downstairs. 

“And see you every single day? No,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“The new apartment is closer to the lab, anyways,” you said, smiling at Sam. “Bigger place than either of these spaces, so it’ll be good!”

“Which means you won’t have to bring work home then,” Peter said, sounding hopeful.

You made a face at that. “If anything, I think I might end up at the lab earlier and later because I live closer.”

“Peter, change the codes in the lab every once in a while,” Bucky told him. You froze. Peter nodded immediately. “Don’t let her do that.”

Neither man would listen to your protest as Bucky escorted you into his car– Steve’s old car. Both Peter and Sam piled into the back as Bucky got into the driver’s seat, the moving truck driver following behind you guys as you moved to your new apartment.

The space was definitely bigger, and it was a nicer place. You found out there were some great financial benefits to whatever mission Bucky had last went on, and even more financial benefits that Bucky hadn’t even touched that the Wakandans had given him when he had left their kingdom to come back to the states. You had originally protested the idea of using the savings, but he insisted, saying that he didn’t have anything to spend it on to begin with and there was nothing more that he wanted but to spend it on you.

Besides that, the two of you were already living together already. If you weren’t at his place, he was at yours. There was no logical reason for the two of you to be paying for two apartments at this point, so you looked for a bigger space. One that would allow you to be able to do some work from home if you ever ended up without a lab, and a space for Bucky to be able to have some peace and quiet away from the world that he lived in.

Sam and Peter were here just to help bring boxes up to your new place, which had an elevator. Most of these boxes were yours, anyway. Other than the couch, coffee table, and the bed, all of the furniture was yours.

It took the two of you the entire weekend to unpack, and another weekend to decorate . 

“This is why I didn’t decorate before. Takes too damn long,” he murmured.

“Is that it, or you just didn’t know what to add?” you asked with a grin. 

You didn’t want to make the space look like a museum, but you wanted to bring back pieces that you thought Bucky would appreciate. You had an old record player that was rigged up in a way to be able to play both old record vinyls and connect to bluetooth, as well as forties vinyl records to match it. You included a copy of The Hobbit on the bookshelf next to your textbooks. There were some plants around as well, something to brighten up the space and give Bucky something to do and take care of when you were at the lab. 

As you placed the last picture on the wall– memorabilia of Captain America– you felt Bucky’s arms slide around your waist. Then, his lips were pressing against your shoulder, your neck, and your cheek. 

“Hi,” you hummed, leaning into his touch.

“Hey,” he whispered back. 

You paused at the tone of his voice, and turned in his arms. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry when you saw his face. His eyes were glassy, his own eyebrows knitted together as well.

“Buck?” you asked, holding his face in your hands. “What’s going on?”

“I love you.” 

If he wasn’t already holding you, you were sure you would have fallen over at his confession. Fainted even. However, there was still something else to address at this moment.

“You’re crying because you love me?” you asked, blinking. The confusion must have been evident on your face because he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“No, doll. I'm crying because I’m happy. Overwhelmed. I didn’t think that I would be able to get this in my life. Get someone like you,” he said, smiling. A tear slipped down his cheek, colliding with your thumb. “I feel so damn lucky to have you in my arms every day. I just… I love you so much. You don’t know how much I love you. I think I’ll spend the rest of our lives together trying to prove how much I love you.”

You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning his face. You smiled back at him, feeling your own emotions begin to get the better of you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you grinned at him. “Thank you for taking care of me when I was drunk that night.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at your words, then pushed his forehead against yours. “You are an awful drunk, you know that?”

“Can’t be too bad though, since you fell for me,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Bucky scoffed, “Yeah, sure. That’s what made me fall for you.”

“Looks like I can’t go out drinking anymore. Wouldn’t want more people falling for me,” you joked.

“Mm… Let them fall, doll,” Bucky hummed. “Doesn’t matter. I’m never letting you leave my side.”

masterlist

taglist: @iyskgd @falconxsoldier @1967barracuda @retrxgreyde @lemonpiegurl @lokiofasgard616 @local-crazy @tor-tor8 @shortandb1tchy @mxgcalvi @dixondystopia @thesmolishbean @againnagainnagainn @im-feeling-blue-today @theycallmemaniac @sebastians-love @oliviamitchy @angelli14

please let me know if you would like to be added to a general bucky taglist for when i post other fics for him :)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Your blog is super helpful with advice and research.

Do you have any resources on writing a character with PTSD, specifically from the Vietnam War era? I want to be accurate and respectful.

Thank you so much!

Writing Notes: PTSD

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

in DSM–IV–TR, a disorder that may result when an individual lives through or witnesses an event in which they believe that there is a threat to life or physical integrity and safety and experiences fear, terror, or helplessness.

The symptoms are characterized by:

reexperiencing the trauma in painful recollections, flashbacks, or recurrent dreams or nightmares;

avoidance of activities or places that recall the traumatic event, as well as diminished responsiveness (emotional anesthesia or numbing), with disinterest in significant activities and with feelings of detachment and estrangement from others; and

chronic physiological arousal, leading to such symptoms as an exaggerated startle response, disturbed sleep, difficulty in concentrating or remembering, and guilt about surviving the trauma when others did not.

Subtypes are chronic posttraumatic stress disorder and delayed posttraumatic stress disorder.

When the symptoms do not last longer than 4 weeks, a diagnosis of acute stress disorder is given instead.

Changes in PTSD criteria from DSM–IV–TR to DSM–5 and DSM-5-TR include the following:

Exposure to the traumatic event may be secondhand if the event happens to a loved one or if there is repeated exposure to aversive details (e.g., as with first responders cleaning up after a disaster);

the subjective criterion requiring that the person feel fear, terror, or helplessness has been eliminated;

symptom clusters have been recategorized, with additional symptoms; and

separate criteria have been developed for children age 6 years or younger.

Who Develops PTSD?

Anyone can develop PTSD at any age.

Some factors can increase the chance that someone will have PTSD, many of which are not under that person's control.

For example, having a very intense or long-lasting traumatic event or getting injured during the event can make it more likely that a person will develop PTSD.

PTSD is also more common after certain types of trauma, like combat and sexual assault.

Personal factors—like previous traumatic exposure, age and gender—can affect whether a person will develop PTSD.

What happens after the traumatic event is also important.

Stress can make PTSD more likely, while social support can make it less likely.

What Are the Symptoms of PTSD?

PTSD symptoms usually start soon after the traumatic event, but they may not appear until months or years later.

They also may come and go over many years.

If the symptoms last longer than 4 weeks, cause you great distress, or interfere with your work or home life, you might have PTSD.

There are 4 types of PTSD symptoms.

To be diagnosed with PTSD, you need to have each type.

That said, everyone experiences symptoms in their own way.

Reliving the event (also called re-experiencing symptoms). 

Memories of the traumatic event can come back at any time.

They can feel very real and scary. For example:

You may have nightmares.

You may feel like you are going through the event again. This is called a flashback.

You may see, hear or smell something that causes you to relive the event. This is called a trauma reminder, cue or trigger. News reports, seeing an accident, or hearing fireworks are examples of trauma reminders.

Avoiding things that remind you of the event. 

You may try to avoid situations or people remind you of the trauma event.

You may even avoid talking or thinking about the event. For example:

You may avoid crowds because they feel dangerous.

You may avoid driving if you were in a car accident or if your military convoy was bombed.

If you were in an earthquake, you may avoid watching movies about earthquakes.

You may keep very busy or avoid getting help so you don't have to think or talk about the event.

Having more negative thoughts and feelings than before the event. 

The way you think about yourself and others may become more negative because of the trauma.

For example:

You may feel numb—unable to have positive or loving feelings toward other people—and lose interest in things you used to enjoy.

You may forget about parts of the traumatic event or not be able to talk about them.

You may think the world is completely dangerous, and no one can be trusted.

You may feel guilt or shame about the event, wishing you had done more to keep it from happening.

Feeling on edge or keyed up (also called hyperarousal). 

You may be jittery, or always alert and on the lookout for danger.

You might suddenly become angry or irritable. For example:

You may have a hard time sleeping.

You may find it hard to concentrate.

You may be startled by a loud noise or surprise.

You might act in unhealthy ways, like smoking, abusing drugs or alcohol, or driving aggressively.

What Are the Symptoms of PTSD in Children?

Children may have symptoms like those above or other symptoms.

As children get older, their symptoms are more like those of adults.

Here are some examples of PTSD symptoms in children and teens:

Children under 6 may get upset if their parents are not close by, have trouble sleeping, or act out the trauma in their play.

Children ages 7 to 11 may also act out the trauma through play, drawings or stories. Some have nightmares or become more irritable or aggressive. They may also want to avoid school or have trouble with schoolwork or friends.

Children ages 12 to 18 have symptoms more similar to adults: depression, anxiety, withdrawal, or reckless behavior like substance abuse or running away.

Vietnam War Veterans

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) has a long and complicated history.

During the Civil War it was call DaCostas Syndrome, named for the doctor who published about the troubling symptoms he was seeing in soldiers from both sides of battle. They suffered:

shortness of breath,

rapid pulse, and

fatigue during times of stress, and especially when recalling certain aspects of battle.

Shell shock,

Battle Fatigue, and

Post Vietnam Syndrome were all names given to symptoms of PTSD before it was officially added to the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) as an anxiety disorder in 1980. It has since been changed to a trauma and stressor related disorder.

Military service and PTSD are often linked because of the danger men and women in the armed forces face.

Their ability to show grace and present calm after traumatic experiences in life threatening situations can often be misinterpreted by those around them as being “fine”.  

The reality of war zones often forces them to march forward without the opportunity to process the trauma as other civilians might be able to.

A flash of light, a noise, or unexpected movement can trigger a jarring memory for service members thus causing them to experience PTSD. 

Symptoms can be distressing to daily life and create daily traumatic experiences. 

In the past, the image of the brave soldier made acknowledging, discussing and getting help for PTSD nearly impossible for many veterans. 

Alcohol abuse, addiction, depression, muscoskeleton pain and other illnesses are frequently linked with PTSD and can cause problems in family and work life creating distress for veterans and the people who care most about them.

A major difference during the Vietnam War and previous wars was the homecoming experience.

While their fathers had come home from World War II to ticker-tape parades and national adulation, Vietnam veterans were often told to hide their military service or encouraged to not share it with others.

Many were maligned and mistreated.

This compounded the trauma that they experienced in Southeast Asia. 

Vietnam veterans worked to change the narrative around PTSD. Men like Max Cleland, Lewis Puller Jr., and Hal Moore openly spoke about their struggles adjusting to civilian life.

Do People With PTSD Get Better?

After a traumatic event, it's normal to think, act, and feel differently than usual--but most people start to feel better after a few weeks.

Talk to a doctor or mental health care provider (like a psychiatrist, psychologist, counselor or social worker) if your symptoms:

Last longer than a month

Are very upsetting

Disrupt your daily life

"Getting better" means different things for different people.

There are treatment options for PTSD. For many people, these treatments can get rid of symptoms altogether. Others find they have fewer symptoms or feel that their symptoms are less intense.

Your symptoms don't have to interfere with your everyday activities and relationships.

What Treatments are Available?

Both trauma-focused psychotherapy (sometimes called counseling or talk therapy) and medication are proven to treat PTSD.

Sometimes people combine psychotherapy and medication.

Trauma-focused psychotherapy

A few trauma-focused psychotherapies are the most highly recommended treatments for PTSD.

"Trauma-focused" means that the therapy focuses on the memory of the traumatic event or its meaning.

The 3 most effective types of trauma-focused psychotherapy are:

Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT) where you learn skills to understand how trauma changed your thoughts and feelings. Changing how you think about the trauma can change how you feel.

Prolonged Exposure (PE) where you talk about your trauma repeatedly until memories are no longer upsetting. This will help you get more control over your thoughts and feelings about the trauma. You also go to places or do things that are safe, but that you have been staying away from because they remind you of the trauma.

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), which involves focusing on sounds or hand movements while you talk about the trauma. This helps your brain work through the traumatic memories.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Character Development (Tips & Notes) ⚜ PDFs

Consider the above notes, and then the following tips & advice to further develop your character:

Writing about Mental Health Conditions

Character Development

Thanks for telling me, I'm glad to hear that! You can find more information in the links. If you can, speaking with a person/s with PTSD would provide valuable insight into your story, as well as doing further research on media portrayals of and by people with PTSD. All the best with your writing!

[disarmd]

do u have thoughts on the williams it takes two video??they're still kind of trying to figure it out but omg they're both so precious individually that the dynamic works itself out on its own https://youtu.be/zFTMbTyHWw8?si=t6g6CW94HSxPwb_W

oh it's so good, it's so so so good. i like every single thing about it.

firstly, when i found out carlos was joining williams i was like oh god, this absolute bombshell, poor alex. BUT IN FACT. there's carlos looking very cute but very tiny and honestly nerdier than he's ever been before, and there's alex who is so tall and so handsome and carlos just keeps trying to lay his gentle fingers on alex's person and nO ONE BLAMES HIM WE ALL GET IT.

okay but speaking of carlos being a nerd "everyone should be asked the same questions otherwise you introduce error" like which intro to research methods university class did he attend, this dedication to the scientific method. i feel like carlos's nerd potential was previously damped by charles' unrelenting himbo energy (which was also great, to be clear), and then we've got alex immediately bringing all the boys to the yard with his unrelenting negging "there's no way" the racing bulls scored so well, like, king, he's telling you the scores right now in fact.

also i'm fucking dying over the difference between oscar hinting lando and alex hinting carlos.

oscar, trying to hint 'ring of fire': "I think it's something to do with fire" he says, making the shape of a ring with his hand. lando: DRAGONS? harry potter? lord of the rings??????? oscar: something to do with fire. and a ring. lando: the equator.

meanwhile, in williams.

alex trying to prompt carlos to say ville: what's streets in italian? carlos: strata alex: what's it in spanish carlos: calle alex: what's it in french? carlos: rue alex: okay maybe i'm crazy

like i am fucking dying. carlos's pronunciation of rue was so good. everything about this video was so stealth hot and i haven't even started talking about alex saying he likes cats because you have to earn their love.

i just get this feeling that alex brings out more of carlos's full self? like obviously they're filming for marketing etc. we're not seeing into his soul, but i find it soooo interesting to see the carlos we get around alex. he's a dork, he's pedantic, he cares a lot about following the rules. at one point, carlos has gotten the answer and the host says he's wrong and they fact check it and actually carlos is right like mY FUCKING GOD.

anyway, those two yappers did horribly because of course they did, but we learned that alex drives with catchy songs stuck in his head and we all found it very sexy when carlos said rue and frankly i could not be more here for it.

[vibelladonna]

𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝓈 + 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈! : 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝒾

heyyy dearest readers! A quick update (and perhaps a bit of a lecture) as I prepare to make some major changes to how things will run on this Tumblr page in the coming weeks. 

I appreciate your time and attention, so let’s get right into it.

First and foremost, I want to say I’ve officially been accepted into an Ivy League medical program—yes, the real-deal, white-coat, sleepless-nights sort of adventure—and I’ll be attending it throughout the entirety of the summer. I know, shocking, right?

I’ll be flying out soon to stay in the dorms, where I’ll be surrounded by brilliant minds and (hopefully) equally brilliant tea. It's a huge opportunity and one I’ve worked incredibly hard for.

Now, before you panic: I’m still planning to stick (mostly) to the content schedule I promised. I’ll be aiming to upload at least one fanfic a week. That said, life will be busy, and as much as I love you all, my career and studies will always take precedence. I hope you understand.

Another note—and one I imagine some of you will have feelings about: I’ll be focusing more on Creepypasta and other versions novels content rather than JUST The Kid at the Back, (TKATB) for a while. There’s a specific reason for this, which I’ll explain below. But just know this isn’t the end for TKATB content, just a slight seasonal shift in priorities.

Now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, let’s get to the fun part: the questions!

✑ I've been seeing a lot of really rude messages being sent to writers and artists here, so don't take anything you see to heart!!! They don't mean shit, you're just another person to harass to them. Idk if you've received anything like it but I've seen 3 posts abt it today,,, be careful vi!!!

Hey, thank you so much for reaching out and checking in—seriously, I appreciate it more than you know. I apologize for not responding sooner, but I want to reassure you that I’m fine. Truly.

I’ve been online since 2014, and trust me when I say I’ve seen—and experienced—a lot. So no, hate comments don’t really get under my skin. It’s just the internet, and unfortunately, people say cruel things all the time when they feel like they’re shouting into a void.

I treat writing as a hobby and a tool to strengthen my skills for medical research purposes—this is something I enjoy doing, not something that defines my worth.

And honestly, I rarely receive hate. When it does happen, it’s typically related to my gender-neutral fanfics. I do write with a feminine tone because I am a woman, and sometimes that doesn’t sit well with certain readers. That’s okay—everyone has preferences—but I refuse to be pushed out of a fandom I enjoy just because I don’t write the way someone else wants me to.

That said, I do want to mention that I’ll be slowing down on The Kid At The Back fandom content for a bit. Life is demanding, and I also want space to work on personal fanfics and dive back into the Creepypasta fandom. 

I’ve honestly grown tired of the energy in this certain fandom spaces—especially when I been contributing well amount of fanfic for TKATB and with the overwhelming number of minors in adult content spaces...

If you’re someone reading my fics as a minor: I understand. I was once your age doing the same thing, though I approached it with a level of maturity and discretion that seems rare nowadays.

To be clear—if someone takes issue with the way I write, how I express myself, or what I choose to post, that’s fine. They’re free to scroll past or block me. It’s that simple. If something online upsets you to that extent, maybe you’re not in the right headspace for this kind of content. 

That’s not me being harsh—it’s just honesty.

Again, thank you for being kind and looking out for people here. That kind of support does mean something. Just know: I’m good. Focused. 

And very much not going anywhere. 

✑ I love your writing, but could you maybe stop saying in the description that you write for gn reader and then just adding "woman" in the story? (Im talking specifically about the vampire fanfic, but I think I saw it a few times on your account) I mean it really made me upset because I struggle with gender dysphoria, so I usually only read gn stuff.

Hi there, thank you for reaching out and taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I want to start this off by acknowledging how difficult it can be to bring something up like this, especially when it’s tied to something as personal as gender identity and dysphoria.

I don’t take that lightly, and I want to be transparent in my response.

Now, let me say this sincerely—I'm sorry that my writing upset you. That was never the intention, and I understand how jarring it can feel to expect gender-neutral content and encounter something that contradicts that expectation, especially when you're looking for comfort or safe escapism. 

I also often go back and re-read the vampire fic (and a few other works), simply adding more detail, correcting grammar, or just for my enjoyment, and I see how that could be frustrating.

So again, I apologize for that experience, and I will work on being more cautious in how I label and tag my works. I’ll double-check stories more thoroughly rather than giving them a surface glance. 

That said, I need to be honest about something, too—and I hope this comes across with the balance of respect and clarity that it’s meant to have.

The way I write is, first and foremost, therapeutic for me. This blog started as a creative outlet, and it continues to be a space where I share writing not just for others, but to explore, improve, and sharpen my writing—especially in preparation for my future in medical research and academic writing.

Tumblr is one of the few places where I get to express that freely, and I want to be transparent that writing—especially character-centric or smut-heavy pieces—is deeply fun for me to write.

When I write gender-neutral smut—rarely for a reason, it’s an immense challenge. Not because I don’t care, but because of how I structure my stories. I focus a lot on sensory detail, reasonable psychological emotions, and physicality.

I write vividly and anatomically, and that makes it hard to keep everything neutral while still maintaining realism and immersion. For some writers, vague language works. For me, it weakens the vision and voice of my storytelling. So when I include subtle feminine cues in a “gn” piece, it’s not out of disregard—it’s just how my imagination naturally forms the scene.

This is also why I’ve always been hesitant about writing gender-neutral smut. I had a gut feeling that misunderstandings like this would happen, and I do try to avoid them—but I’m human. I’m still learning how to balance creative expression with broader sensitivity, and that balance isn’t always perfect.

Again, I’ve gone back and corrected the vampire fic to lean closer to gender neutrality, but I also want to kindly ask: please don’t put the responsibility of your dysphoria or other deeply personal matters on me. 

I say this with care. I’m not equipped—nor comfortable—handling certain topics like gender identity or eating disorders in my fics because I do understand how serious and complex they are. 

That’s why I usually avoid writing directly about those subjects. I’m just one person doing what I can to share stories in a space I created for myself. And while I welcome thoughtful feedback, I can’t carry the emotional weight of someone else’s journey—especially not strangers online. 

That’s a boundary I have to keep for my own well-being.

Lastly, I want to BE VERY CLEAR ONCE MORE: I will continue writing in a way that feels authentic to me. That may include pieces labeled gender-neutral that still have a feminine tone. That may include imperfect attempts to reach a wider audience while still honoring my own voice. It’s okay if my blog isn’t for everyone. I respect that. If something I write is upsetting, the tools exist to block, mute, or simply scroll past it. 

That’s the beauty of being online—we curate our spaces.

Again, thank you for your honesty and for giving me the chance to address this properly. I truly wish you all the comfort, growth, and safe content you need on your journey. Take care.

✑ just a small quick question, if you have a writer's block, what is a good way of getting rid of it? I've been trying to work on this fanfic for two days and only wrote a few paragraphs, and then i couldn't think of anything else to write, and it’s far from being finished! Please and thank you for your time.

Okay, some advice to give.

Ahhh, writer’s block. The age-old enemy of creatives everywhere. First off, I totally understand what you're going through—staring at a document, feeling stuck after just a few paragraphs, wondering if you're ever going to find the spark again. It’s frustrating and draining, especially when the desire to write is there, but the words just don’t want to show up.

Here’s what’s helped me, personally:

I write how I write. That may sound simple, but it took me a while to find my rhythm and voice. I didn’t always have it—especially when I first started writing on Tumblr.

In fact, I don’t even think I had a voice at the beginning. I was just typing thoughts and feelings, hoping it clicked. It took time, practice, burnout, and regrouping to get where I am now.

Sometimes my inspiration comes randomly—like I think too damn much.

TikTok clips, a scene from a book or another writer’s piece, even just something I feel strongly about in the moment. Networking skills I’ve learned (yes, even from being online and in person) helped me pick up patterns and emotional beats that resonate. 

And yes… I do use a bit of AI at times—not to write for me, but to clear the fog when my brain’s too loud or frozen. Like bouncing ideas off something neutral just to get moving again.

That being said, none of it works unless I make myself sit and write. And here’s the hard part: forcing that can lead to burnout. It did for me. When I first got traction here, people started asking—begging, even—for more work. Which I was grateful for, but it added pressure I wasn’t prepared for. I started writing not because I wanted to, but because I felt I had to. 

And that’s when I started to lose the joy in it.

My personal advice? Don’t prioritize fanfic—or writing in general—over your personal life or your peace. That kind of pressure can quietly build into burnout that leaves you avoiding not just writing, but reading, imagining, and creating altogether. 

And that’s the saddest part, because writing is you. It's a part of you trying to express itself, and it needs room to breathe, not expectations to suffocate under.

Take breaks. Find joy. Get inspired. And when you write again, let it be for you first.

You’ve got this!

[spacedemodulator]

—- Possible book and TV spoilers for Murderbot —-

First, I appreciate the addition of LeeBeeBee to the TV show. It adds fear and suspense that’s otherwise lacking for those who’ve read the books (numerous times).

Second, I love your readings of LeeBeeBee, and it’s made me think of a possible wrinkle in her story. What if she’s an optional add-on to DeltFall’s bond agreement?

In ASR, DeltFall is required to have more secunits for their bond because it’s a bigger research mission with a lot more people. So having more secunits doesn’t necessarily reflect badly on DeltFall.

But what if having an extra indentured servant was a reasonably priced upgrade to their package, an upsell offered by their bond company, and DeltFall was tempted by the offer? Like, “Wow, that would actually be handy. Nobody likes the chore rotation, and this way we’ll get more science done.” Maybe the DeltFall crew died in part because they knowingly committed the sin of accepting slave labor when they didn’t have to. Or maybe they took the bait because they didn’t fully understand the situation.

Meanwhile, LeeBeeBee might not have had anything to do with GrayCris originally. But because she’s part of the bond company’s surveillance payload (just like HubSys and the secunits) and an ordinary CR human who’s easily threatened, she’s a weak link that GrayCris knows how to suborn, extort, or otherwise exploit.

I guess I’m saying it’s possible her situation is even worse and more uncertain, and DeltFall’s even more complicated, so….yikes.

What LeeBeeBee does for the Story of ‘Murderbot’

So we’ve finally met Blonde Lady in the series (her name is LeeBeeBee), and I think she’s filling a really interesting and important role plot-wise and worldbuilding-wise, and doing so in unexpected ways that are surprising even book-readers.  She’s wholly original to the show, so no one knows what precisely the writers have planned for her.

But I certainly have thoughts and predictions. 

I figured I’d break my thoughts on her up into two sections.  The first section is for all the folks who are show-only, and I’ll only be examining her role in S1E5, without any additional speculation pulling from book knowledge and what I think the writers are doing with her in the longer term.  The second part will speculate on the upcoming episode, and how I think it could play out.  No idea if I’m right about everything (or anything!), but it’s always fun to speculate!

FUNCTION IN S1E5 (SPOILERS FOR E1-5)

Let’s kick it off by talking about LeeBeeBee in isolation in this episode, what her function in this particular episode was, what she does for the plot, the larger world, and what she does for the storytelling format. 

Let’s start with her plot function, the most obvious part of her role in this episode.  She appears at the beginning as the sole survivor of DeltFall, makeup smeared and uniform dirty.  This immediately sets her apart from the PresAux gang.  She’s apparently the indentured cleaner that DeltFall rented for the hab along with the SecUnits, and this cleaner is wearing makeup despite having a physically laborious job in a field unit on a mostly-uninhabited planet. 

This small bit of visual storytelling sets DeltFall up as a very different society to PresAux.  PresAux deliberately only took one (cheap) SecUnit, which is understandable given their objections to using constructs as slave labor.  None of them wear makeup in the field, and they certainly don’t have a cleaner.

But DeltFall not only had multiple constructs, but also an indentured servant to do housekeeping, and there is either an expectation or a cultural norm that she be made up while she do her indentured job.  They feel, from this introduction, very Corporation Rim. 

LeeBeeBee herself acts as a personification of the Corporation Rim on a level we haven’t been able to dig into with the limited screentime of the Company Tech Bro sales reps.  From her first scene on the hopper, she feels like she’s from a completely different world to the empathetic and sweet Preservationers.  She almost immediately objectifies SecUnit in a way that is openly offputting to both the audience and clearly to the Preservation crew, who likely don’t say anything both out of shock and out of some belief that this woman has to have some sort of brain damage to say something like that.

But this level of objectification, I think, lies at the heart of the Corporation Rim.  It’s not that constructs are objects, but their workers are valued.  LeeBeeBee is an indentured servant.  She has no more free will than SecUnit.  She objectifies it because she sees herself as a step above a construct, and in the CR hierarchy, you’re likely encouraged to objectify anyone beneath you.  And that comes around to something equally uncomfortable when she finds out it’s got a hacked governor module and is a rogue.  She views it as a person now, but what does that mean? 

She objectifies herself for it. 

And doesn’t that make the worst sort of sense on a survival level for a person in her position?  She’s fully adapted to doing what she has to do to survive.  She views sex in an incredibly transactional and exploitative way.  When she thinks SecUnit is an object, she has the power and she immediately speculates about using it as a sex toy.  When she shifts into thinking of it as a person, she also knows how dangerous it is, and reverses their power dynamic, offering sex as a transactional way to protect herself. 

It’s awful, deliberately so.  But I think it’s a great and visceral way to get into the Corporation Rim mindset: constructs aren’t special; everyone who isn’t wealthy or powerful is an object.  You don’t get to be a person with fully autonomous choices until you’re one of the elite.  Until then, sex is just another way of trying to get a slight advantage in an endless rat race.

Having LeeBeeBee represent this deeply uncomfortable aspect of an end-stage capitalist hellscape like the CR also does something on a storytelling level.  This addition of an outsider character fully shifts the POV in the show.  Up until her introduction, the PresAux crew felt like the strange outsiders that MB was judging, but by introducing the worst possible representation of the CR, our alignment completely shifts.  We are not only on Preservation’s side, but we are insiders with them.  They now feel normal and lived in, and she feels like the outsider.  And this reflects the shift going on in Murderbot.  Even before it’s willing to acknowledge it, through the framing of LeeBeeBee we subconsciously know it has realigned itself with the PresAux crew. 

So that’s why I think she was an effective addition in this episode.  If you’re interested in some book spoilers and speculation for the next episode, jump below the cut.

FUNCTION IN S1E6 AND BEYOND (SPECULATION, SPOILERS FOR ‘ALL SYSTEMS RED’)

Are they gone?

Groovy.  Let’s get under the hood and talk about all the ways she’s working on multiple levels, not just embodying all the worst parts of the CR as I previously mentioned, but playing it up as a means of camoflage.  Because LeeBeeBee is almost certainly a GrayCris plant, precisely what SecUnit and Mensah were worried about, and the crew absolutely did take her in despite the danger because they are good people.  And they would do the right thing, even if Murderbot objected.

It’s so nice to get to see exactly how DeltFall might have been infiltrated, which we didn’t get to see in the book.  And so many of her lines read differently when you think of her as a plant.  Did DeltFall call PresAux ‘the Amateurs,’ or was that GrayCris?  Did DeltFall actually have an indentured servant, or is that GrayCris?

I think that a lot of what she’s saying is truthful, or is just a slight twist on the truth.  I do think she’s likely indentured.  I do think she views others and herself as objects to be used and exploited and discarded.  She’s suffering under one of the cruelest practices in the Corporation Rim, but she’s still fully bought into the CR propaganda and mindset.  Rather than defecting and embracing freedom the way Gurathin likely did, she’s almost certainly looking at getting years shaved off her indenture by acting as an infiltrator and assassin

That’s so perfectly horrid.  She would rather still be indentured but get in better with her bosses than accept real freedom.  It’s a cowardice I think we can all see in our world, that she would take the safe misery and be willing to hurt others to do it, rather than take a major risk and step outside the system.

She’s also dialing up her inherent objectification of others to a level that makes her deliberately off-putting, so the PresAux crew want to look away from her rather than examining her too closely.  If they just want to sort of ignore her, then they’re not going to dig too far into her actions.  If she runs off to communicate back to GrayCris regarding a rogue SecUnit they’re not going to follow her, and are going to be glad to get a break from her.

Her distraction tactics work particularly well against Murderbot, who she makes wildly uncomfortable to the point it’s very glad to get away from her, and is likely deliberately trying not to think of her.  If you watch who she’s targeting with this barrage of unpleasantness, she does it first as a blanket with the crew to gauge reaction, then targets it at SecUnit once she realizes that it’s not being controlled by the combat override, and that it’s fully rogue.  There’s no easy way for her to control it (as I suspect she was controlling the DeltFall SecUnits), so she had to improvise, because as far as she’s concerned, this independent SecUnit is the #1 threat to her plan to kill the PresAux crew.  She must have been so relieved when it went with Mensah to trigger the beacon, because she knew the beacon was rigged to explode, and she had a good chance of getting rid of both the biggest threat and the team leader, and she didn’t even have to do anything!

Which, to her mind, only leaves the rest of the PresAux team to deal with.  After SecUnit, she almost certainly considers Gurathin the next biggest threat, because she would certainly underestimate the Preservationers, but he’s ex-corporate, so she would respect the threat he posed.  So after Mensah and SecUnit are gone, she zeroes in on Gurathin.

I think she almost certainly has a dossier or some other large amount of personal and professional information about him from his days in the CR.  What did she do when she first talked to him after Mensah and Murderbot were gone?  She offered him a stimulant.  I’m now convinced that his therapy modules were—in addition to being for generalized trauma (why did you learn to be quiet, Gurathin??)—meant to treat a stimulant addiction he struggled with after using them to work whatever insane hours he was required to work when he was in the CR. 

I think this next episode is going to be Gurathin-heavy.  The writers are setting up deliberate contrasts between the die-hard-to-a-horrific-level Corpo LeeBeeBee and Defector-with-Trauma ex-Corpo Gurathin.  I wonder if he won’t try to sort of reach out to her in the next episode (was he indentured too?), convince her to defect too, only to have her turn it all around on him and use his backstory against him.  If he was indentured, did he break contract to run to Preservation?  Is there a bounty on him?  Is there a bounty on his AUGMENTS, body not needed in return?

I sort of have an image of the next episode playing out like a horror film, where we realize that LeeBeeBee is the exact infiltrator that took out DeltFall, that GrayCris SecUnits are incoming, MB and Mensah may already be dead, and the person who was responsible for the DeltFall massacre is inside the hab right now.

Especially if we don’t know what happened to MB and Mensah for the majority of the episode, instead focusing on the rest of the group.  Without the snarky voiceover, the terror of the situation could really get hammered home.  Again, this is fully speculation of how it might play out next episode, but my guess is that the big cliffhanger next episode is going to be LeeBeeBee attacking Gurathin.  Previews have shown him with a bandage on his leg, and holding a cane, which some people have pointed out looks like a blind walking cane.  That makes me wonder if she manages to not only disable him with a shot to the leg, but damage visual augments he might have, rendering him partially blind.

I think we’ve also been getting a lot of background work with Gurathin being terrified of rejection and abandonment throughout this season.  He and MB parallel one another in not wanting to share Mensah, because they both are afraid the other will manage to take her from them (completely ignoring that Mensah has two fucking hands, and more than enough love in her to love her family, and both of these idiots too).  If LeeBeeBee really wants to twist the knife in him, she’s going to tell him that if the others are going to survive, they have to abandon him.

And Pin-Lee, Arada, Bharadwaj, and Ratthi are almost certainly going to refuse.  Much like Mensah refused to abandon MB when it was damaged, they’re going to refuse to leave their friend behind.  Because they can disagree with him, they can think he’s wrong about SecUnit, but they still love him and won’t leave him.

This sets up E7 to be the big turning point between the nadir of act 2 (MB and Mensah may be dead, Gurathin is injured, and the others are in direct danger because they won’t leave him behind), and the start of act 3 (MB and Mensah return and save everyone!  They can all come together, defeat GrayCris and escape alive!). 

And all of this gets facilitated because of the introduction of LeeBeeBee, who acts as a face for GrayCris (and likely a way to give us information about them) and for the whole vicious corporate people-as-objects theme that consumes the Corporation Rim.  It’s so much easier to loath GrayCris when we can see the sorts of people it creates, and she is such a great example of that.

[glowettee]

✧・creating a personal library system that actually works゜✧・゜✧

hey lovelies!

so last weekend i had a complete meltdown when i couldn't find my copy of "pride and prejudice" (the one with all my notes!) and ended up reorganizing my entire book collection at 2am. classic me behavior. but honestly? it was the best decision i've made in ages because now i actually know where everything is and i'm not buying duplicate books anymore (yes, i somehow owned three copies of "the bell jar"… don't ask).

i thought i'd share my super simple system for keeping track of my little library in case any of you are drowning in books too!

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the physical organization ･:.ೃ࿔

i tried organizing by color once and while it looked pretty on instagram, it was literally impossible to find anything. so now i do a mix of these categories that actually makes sense for how i use my books:

favorites shelf - these are my ride-or-die books that i reread constantly and want to grab easily

to-be-read shelf - keeps all my unread books in one place so they don't get lost in the mix

read-but-keeping shelf - books i've finished but want to hold onto

reference section - cookbooks, style guides, etc that i need to access quickly

borrowed books corner - a special spot just for books that aren't mine so i actually remember to return them (sorry to everyone waiting for their books back…)

within each section, i organize alphabetically by author because i'm basic like that. but honestly it works!

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the tracking system ･:.ೃ࿔.

this is the game changer! i used to rely on my memory (lol) to keep track of what i'd read until i found myself 50 pages into a book before realizing i'd already read it. now i use:

a simple reading journal - nothing fancy, just a notebook where i write the title, author, when i started/finished it, and a few thoughts

sticky flags in different colors - blue for beautiful quotes, pink for plot points i want to remember, yellow for things to research later

the inside cover trick - i write the date i finished the book and a tiny heart rating (♥♥♥♥♥) system on the inside cover

a digital backup - i use storygraph (not goodreads all the time because amazon owns enough of my life) to keep a digital record

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the borrowing system ･:⋆.ೃ࿔:･

if you're like me and constantly lending books to friends (or borrowing them), this will save your friendships:

a dedicated "lending library" note in my phone with who has what and when they borrowed it

book plates that say "borrowed from mindy's library" (these were like $8 online and so worth it)

a rule that i only lend books i'm okay with never seeing again (learned this one the hard way)

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the "did i already read this?" solution ･:.ೃ࿔

this was my biggest problem! now i:

take a quick photo of books i read but don't keep (like library books)

keep a "books i've read" list in my notes app for quick reference while browsing bookstores

add a tiny dot on the upper right corner of the first page of books i own and have finished

it's not a perfect system but it's simple enough that i actually stick with it! the key is finding what works for your reading habits rather than trying to create some instagram-perfect color-coded situation that you'll abandon after a week.

what about you guys? any genius book organization hacks i should know about?

xoxo, mindy 🤍

[foldingfittedsheets]

Bed covering question.

I've beem researching sheets, and come across quite a bit of fervor over linen vs cotton. I'm curious if you have thoughts - other than have a protector on your mattress (I do) and wash them regularly.

Generally as long as the material is long staple and a natural fiber you’re gonna be okay. It’s hard to find good quality linen or cotton these days because short staple is much quicker and cheaper to produce. Even fancy brands have gotten less fancy in the last ten years.

There’s a reason people talked about “the good linens” though because linen tends to just get softer and softer with use and holds up extraordinarily well. But it requires a lot more love to get it to that point.

I don’t have linen sheets but I’ve felt some nice ones and if I had the opportunity I’d get some for myself but all my sheets are cotton or bamboo.

[lanalace]

A Whisper of Control

Obsessive Caleb x Introvert Reader

Summary: Caleb, an extroverted prodigy born into privilege, has loved Y/n since they were children. Isolated by his intellect and unable to truly connect with others, he found an unexpected kindred spirit in her, an equally brilliant, introverted girl from a broken, loveless home. From the moment they met, he was irrevocably drawn to her. Accustomed to getting everything he wants, Caleb quietly vowed she would be no exception.

Warning: Manipulation, SFW, Slow burn

Word count: 2.7K 🍎🍏

@mcdepressed290 @april-likes-smut

Chapter One

Y/n sat curled on Caleb’s oversized bed, her legs tucked beneath her body. The plush, silken, black duvet almost swallowed her small frame, but it did nothing to soften the sharpness of the moment. In front of her lay a neat stack of pristine, white envelopes, promising a bright future yet it was quietly oppressive.

Each one whispered of a future. Each one demanded a decision.

“I don’t know what to do.” she murmured, her voice barely above a breath. Her fingertips ghosted over the top letter as though it might burn her. “Every school offers something different, and I just… what if I pick the wrong one?” her voice laced with concern as she weighed out the options of each school in her head.

Caleb lounged beside her, one arm tucked lazily under his head, the other draped casually across the soft fold of the banket, a perfect picture of ease. His dark eyes flicked over the envelopes with mild interest, like they were unimportant distractions interrupting his peace and not life-altering choices. He didn’t seem worried. He never did.

“You overthink too much, sweetheart.” he said, voice smooth, confident, infuriatingly calm.

A soft, dry laugh slipped from her lips as she pressed her palms to her face. “Ugh, I know but this is my future.”

Hearing the distress in her quiet voice, he sat up, the mattress dipping slightly as he shifted closer to her. His knee brushed against hers, deliberate. Just enough contact to feel her warmth, just enough to make the air between them press tighter around her ribs.

“That’s why I’ve already thought it through for you.”

He reached over to the pile before Y/n, looking for a very familiar seal amongst the papers before pulling out a single envelope. It was heavier than the others. Cream-colored. Emboldened with gold and blue, the crest of his very own university gleaming under the filtered sunlight.

“Here.” He placed it neatly in her lap. His fingers lingered on the paper, then slid off of across hers before resting at his side.

“This is where you belong.”

Y/n stared at it. Its the only one she didn’t open. She didn’t want to, she knew that school, seen it before. Caleb had mentioned the school a hundred times in the last 2 years. Prestigious. Competitive. The kind of place that guaranteed success, forged connections and legacies.

The kind of place where he ruled the room.

She looked up at him. “I don’t know, Caleb. That’s your school.”

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head slightly, then lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered at the nape of her neck, cool and soft. Familiar. Uncomfortably so.

“And what’s wrong with that?” His velvety voice dropped an octave.

“You’d be in the elite scholars’ program alongside yours truly. Top of your class. Research access, publication credits, personal mentorship from the board. They’re already interested in you. You’d shine there, Y/n.” 

Shine.

The word caught in her throat.

It was tempting. Seductive. A future with structure, praise, clarity. Everything she said she wanted. Yet, she was also terrified of shining too much. She was never good at navigating attention.

Still, this wasn’t her decision, not really. Not with his hand on her neck and his voice in her spine.

“I don’t want to just because you are there. I don’t even know if I got in.” She shifted in place, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“You’re an honor student with a 4.0 gpa, years of volunteer community service, almost all of your teachers wrote recommendation letters for you. Of course, you got in. There’s no way it's not an acceptance letter. Besides, you aren’t going just because of me. You are going there because its the top college in the country.”

Her face lit up at his words. Though, it as all true, the way he said it sounded akin to praising her. “I just… I need to think.”

Caleb’s gaze sharpened, but his smile stayed intact. He leaned in closer, his lips near her temple.

“You’re scared.” he said gently. “And that’s okay. That’s why you need me.”

He tapped her forehead lightly with two fingers, affectionate but firm. “I’ll be right there, every step of the way. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

The words slid under her skin, warm and poisonous. She wanted to resist them, to push back, say no, but the weight of him, of his certainty, pressed down too hard.

She exhaled slowly and nodded. “…Okay.”

Caleb’s smile widened. A flash of white teeth. He pulled her into a hug, arms wrapping around her like a promise or a trap.

He held her a moment too long.

“Good.” he whispered into her hair.

Y/n stared at the envelope still resting in her lap, the crest catching the light like a knowing smirk. She turned it over once, then again, and tried to ignore the tightening in her chest.

Caleb plucked the letter from her hand and tore it open, pulling out the contents and scanning it quickly before holding it up to her face.

“What did I say? Accepted. I don’t understand how you can doubt me after all  these years of me always being right.”

Y/n's eyes widened, then she snatched the paper from his hand, scanning the words to confirm. “It's a full ride!”

Caleb grinned at her. “Of course it is.”

“But it doesn’t cover dorming…” she said quietly, her previous joy all but gone. “Even with scholarships. Housing alone is—”

“I know.” Caleb cut in, like he’d been waiting for her to say it. “And?”

She blinked, giving him a confused look. “You know I can’t afford it.”

Caleb leaned back on his elbows, expression unreadable for a moment and sighed until a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You live here more than you don’t. My parents would literally arm-wrestle each other for the chance to sponsor you.”

She flushed. “That’s not—no, I can’t ask them for—Caleb.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” His eyes glinted with something sharper now, something possessive beneath the charm. “They already think of you as the daughter they never had. If I told my mom you didn’t accept just because of the cost, she’d probably drag you down to admissions office herself and write a check on the spot.”

“That’s not the point.” She folded the letter in half, hands stiff. He was right, he mom doted on her like a loving parent. It took her a while to get used to it, after all, her mother is the farthest thing from loving or maternal. 

“I don’t want to owe anyone—”

“Not this again, Y/n.” He sighed dramatically.

“You won’t.” He sat up again, closer now. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll pay for it. All of it. I’ll just put the money in your bank account, that way it feels like you did it. Better?”

She stared at him like he’d just suggested buying her a car. “You—what? No. Caleb, that’s—”

“I get a very generous allowance.” he said, mock-casually, examining his nails. “And unlike someone else I know, I don’t stress-shop at 3 a.m. and pretend it’s retail therapy. So I can easily support you and myself.”

She gave him a flat look. “That was one time!”

“Five times.”

“Two of those were birthday presents. For you.”

He grinned, then reached over and flicked the edge of the envelope still trapped in her grip. “Just let me do this. You’ve earned it. You’ve worked harder than anyone I know. Why shouldn’t you get the best just because someone else couldn’t afford to give it to you?”

She hesitated. Her throat felt tight again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen — she was supposed to stand on her own. She didn’t want charity, or pity, or… whatever this was.

But Caleb didn’t look smug anymore. Just serious. Steady.

He was quiet for a beat, then softer. “You wouldn’t be taking anything from me that I don’t already want to give. Besides, if you don’t let me, I’ll transfer it anyway and just close my account so you can’t send it back.”

She let out a breath, her fingers slackening against the acceptance letter. “…You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” 

“Not a chance.”

She realized she didn’t require an answer. She knew Caleb well enough to know that he never said anything he didn’t mean. She looked down, cheeks warm. “You’re infuriating, you know that, right?”

“And you love it.” He replied smugly.

She did. She hated that she did, hated the way he made things so easy and so heavy at the same time. Like every choice she made came with a hand wrapped around her wrist, gently guiding, never letting go.

“…Fine.” she muttered.

“There’s my girl.” He praised, smiling victoriously before quickly pulling her in for a hug. 

He easily pulled her back down, letting her rest...

She squealed in surprise as he easily pulled her back down, letting her rest on his chest as he stroked the top of her head gently.

🍎🍏

It was settled. Not that there was much room for argument once Caleb made up his mind. He always framed his decisions like offers—calm, measured, unshakeably logical. But Y/n knew better. She had grown up orbiting his certainty like a moon, soothed and suffocated by it. He always had a solution for her, neatly packaged and ready for use. And when her thoughts spun too fast or she locked up and shut down completely, he was there. The calm in her storm.

So she agreed. Because it did make sense. A full scholarship to one of the best universities in the country, secured by her own merit. An opportunity people would kill for. She should be grateful. She was.

Still, as they approached the sprawling campus together, something inside her tightened.

The school looked like a palace. It’s towering spires of old stone rising into the gray-blue sky, ivy crawling like veins across the walls. She felt impossibly small in comparison, her steps hesitant as she gripped the strap of her satchel. The courtyard teemed with students laughing, moving in little packs that shifted and reformed like flocks of birds. Voices echoed in the warm air. Energy buzzed in every direction.

They all looked like they belonged.

Y/n felt like she was trespassing in someone else’s dream.

‘I wonder if I would also be able to fit in here too.’ She thought to herself with a mixture of hopefulness and doubt.

Her uniform suddenly felt itchy. The navy blazer sat too stiff on her shoulders, and the collar of her white shirt and red tie pinched slightly at her throat. She could feel her pulse there, fast and uneven. Her gaze flicked to the ground, then to the blur of motion all around her. Someone’s perfume, sweet and citrusy, drifted past on the wind and her nose scrunched at the potency.

Then she felt Caleb’s hand.

It slid into hers without hesitation, warm and certain, his grip unyielding. The pressure of it made her breath catch, not because it hurt, but because it anchored her. It was as if he could read her mind. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze, his grip firm, tethering her to something familiar, something his.

"I've got you." he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that seemed to smother the anxiety coiling in her chest. Y/n exhaled slowly, a wave of gratitude warring with a flicker of unease. 

She nodded automatically, feeling the heat of his gaze on her profile. She didn’t have to look up to know he was watching every flicker of discomfort. He always did and she appreciated him for that. 

"Right. I know." 

She knew. He led her through the courtyard like a king returning to his throne. Students waved, some calling his name, others flashing smiles as if just seeing him was a treat. Caleb nodded back, pleasant but distant, his other hand moved to gently resting on the small of Y/n’s back, a possessive touch masked as guidance.

She tried not to flinch under the attention that followed him. Us, she corrected herself with discomfort. Because being near Caleb meant inheriting his spotlight whether she wanted it or not.

“You’ll get used to it.” he murmured close to her ear, sensing the way she shrank into herself. The words were gentle, but something about them made her stomach tighten. An order dressed as comfort.

He didn’t lead her to the freshman dorms.

Instead, he took her to a quiet, pristine building on the edge of campus. Modern architecture with wide windows and polished stone. “This is yours.” he said simply. No fanfare. Just a soft kind of pride in his voice.

Inside, her dorm room looked more like a boutique hotel suite than student housing. Soft lighting. Clean, minimalist décor in her favorite colors. Everything is tailored.

She turned to him, stunned. “You did all this?”

He raised a brow. “Mom insisted. Said you deserved a proper welcome.”

Y/n laughed lightly, the tension in her chest easing for a moment. She smiled, picturing Caleb’s mother obsessively arranging pillows and lighting scented candles. Her chest ached with quiet gratitude.

“I’ll have to make sure to thank her.” she said, tracing her fingers over the neatly made bed. It felt… unreal.

She locked the door behind her and tucked the key into her pocket. She wasn’t ready to stay just yet. There was still more to see.

As they approached the main academic building, Caleb walking at her side like a shadow with a heartbeat, a figure stepped suddenly into her path.

A collision of motion and breath.

“Oh—sorry!”

The guy had wild brown hair, an apologetic smile curling on his lips. His posture was easy, his expression open and warm in a way that caught her off guard. Hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed—like nothing in the world could truly bother him.

“You okay?” he asked, blinking at her. “You looked kinda overwhelmed.”

Y/n blinked back, startled by the question—and by how easily it had seen through her.

“I… yeah. I’m fine.” 

Before she could say more, Caleb’s grip on her hand tightened sharply, the bones in her fingers pressing together just slightly too hard. Not enough to hurt, but enough to warn.

“She’s fine.” he said, stepping forward with practiced ease, his body sliding between them like a door closing. “She’s with me.”

The guy—Nick, as she’d soon learn, looked Caleb over once, expression unreadable. But he didn’t back down. His gaze slid past Caleb like water around stone and landed back on her, full of curiosity.

“I’m Nick.” His voice was deeper than she expected, smooth and unhurried. “You must be new.”

Y/n felt her throat dry out. “Yeah. First day.”

“Thought so.” Nick grinned. “Let me guess… honors program?” He feigned contemplation, gripping his chin and tilting his head to the side.

Her eyes widened. “How did you—”

“Lucky guess.” he said with a wink, and Y/n caught the mischievous gleam in his eye. The one that said he wasn’t guessing at all.

Behind her, Caleb went still.

Like a string had pulled taut inside him.

“We should be going.” Caleb said, too softly.

Nick didn’t budge. “Right, of course.” He stepped aside but didn’t move away. His gaze lingered, warm and unbothered by Caleb’s looming presence. “See you around, Y/n.”

Her name rolled off his tongue like it already belonged to him. Caleb's eyes darkened. If looks could kill, Nick would be dead a thousand times over.

She felt the flutter of something in her chest. A rush of color to her cheeks. A dangerous little thrill.

Caleb said nothing, just turned her toward the building, his hand sliding to the base of her spine. This time, the pressure was unmistakable. Branding.

“Stay close.” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. A command dressed as care.

Inside, the air felt too still. Her heart wouldn’t slow. Caleb walked beside her in silence, his expression unreadable but the tension hadn’t left his body. It vibrated under his skin like static.

“I don’t like him.” he said finally. Quiet. Firm. Unsmiling.

Y/n didn’t respond. Not because she disagreed.

But because, for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure she liked what that said about him.

{Chapter Two}

[revelboo]

How are skywarp and his human? Are they in love yet?

Those two will be in denial for some time 🔞 🌶️

You guys win- I ordered these to research Beast Wars. Volume one was $45 so it’s out of my budget, so these will have to do to get a feel for the characters

Stop Talking Pt 9

Skywarp x Reader

• ‘Well?’ Thundercracker growls, tone irritable as he rubs a hand against his helm, annoyed with Skywarp for disturbing his recharge. “Your human likes you, right?” Skywarp asks and his trine brother clears his vents loudly. And turns to walk away and Skywarp grabs his arm. “How’d you convince them to stay?” It’s not like he can’t just keep you, but you’d eventually resent him. He bright you here against your will, but you haven’t complained all that much. Like you’d wanted to escape from where he’d found you. Making him realize he knows nothing about you.

• Sees Thundercracker’s optics dip to his servos on him, but Skywarp doesn’t let go. Embarrassed to have to ask, but he’s never wanted to keep someone around like this. Cares what you think of him and it bothers him. ‘Have the two of you tried to actually have a real conversation?’ Thundercracker asks, venting deliberately and Skywarp knows the other Seeker can scent you on him. ‘Instead of just fragging?’

• “We talk,” Skywarp growls, wings flaring. And okay, it’s mostly during interface and it’s mostly ‘harder, don’t stop, right there,’ but that still counts, right? ‘Do they have family?’ Thundercracker asks. ‘What do to they like? What annoys them? I don’t know, try to get to know them not just their body?’ Jaw working, Skywarp vents noisily. “They like my spike,” he mutters, trying to make a joke and his brother just looks disgusted with him. Not that he’s not used to that. Skywarp the screw up. The impulsive one that gets into trouble and has to be bailed out. The disappointment.

• Admitting that he likes you? That he’s lonely and wants you to stay? That’s the sort of vulnerable slag he hates. Emotions and feelings. Making everything complicated when it doesn’t have to be. You two get along, the interfacing is amazing. Why does it need to be more than that? Except then he thinks about the warmth of you sleeping against him. That he could feel your heat beating, the rise and fall of your chest, and the way his spark had thrummed when you’d rolled over and pressed your face against his neck. ‘Fragging nasty like animals isn’t a relationship,’ Thundercracker says tiredly and Skywarp clears his vents with a huff. ‘Talk to your human, not me.’

• And TC yanks his arm out of Skywarp’s grip, turning and heading back into his habsuite and shutting the door in his face. Returning to his human mate. Jaw working, Skywarp heads back to his own room and lets himself inside. Freezing when he spots you bent over, wetting one of your extra blankets with a bottle of water and scrubbing his dried slick off your inner thighs. And he’s releasing his spike to slowly pressurize with a growl. Sees your head come up like you can feel his stare and you look back at him.

• “Hey,” you call out, hating that you feel self conscious and awkward now because you like him and you’re scared of screwing this up. It’s not like you two have anything serious and he probably doesn’t want anything serious. Watching him mass shift and fly up to join you, staring at his handsome face, you realize you’re already screwed. Like him and his weird, messed up humor, his handsome face, and crooked, devious smile. Know you’re going to ruin this because you always do when things get real. And he drags you into him, his erect spike pinned against your belly as his mouth crashes against yours.

Previous

[heezqn]

pairing : non-idol!riki × f!reader

synopsis : you weren't looking for love- said it loud enough for your therapist, your neighbor, and the moon to hear. but nishimura riki didn't care. armed with heart-shaped eggs, cartoon ducks, and a truly unfair level of patience, he spent two years loving you anyway. now, you're faced with the terrifying question: what if you said yes? a chaotic, soft-hearted tale of commitment issues, snarky banter, and the boy who refused to walk away.

genre : friends to lovers, slice of life, fluff, humor, slight angst if you squint hard

warning : mild cursing, mentions of commitment issues, riki's too perfect

word count : 1.5k-ish

you were not looking for a boyfriend. you made that very, very clear. to yourself. to your therapist. even to your nosy neighbor.

your parents taught you love had limits. friendships taught you people leave. romantic partners asked, "what are we?" like your existence needed a label. eventually, you decided that if everyone wanted temporary, you'd give them nothing at all.

and then came nishimura riki.

bright-eyed. soft-spoken. annoyingly persistent.

you told him straight up the first week. "i have commitment issues and i cry when i see videos of puppies abandoned in cardboard boxes."

he blinked. "that just makes you human."

"no, it makes me clingy and dramatic."

"okay, clingy and dramatic human," he said, shrugging. "what's your favorite snack?"

you tried to ghost him after that. blocked him for a week.

he emailed you.

subject: URGENT

attachment: a cartoon duck holding out a heart that said, "plSsSs come back :("

you cursed the duck. you cursed him. you unblocked him.

and somehow, two years later, here he was.

still not your boyfriend.

still showing up.

still refusing to give up.

𔓘

"wake up, satan's least favorite child," riki said, yanking your blanket with absolutely no mercy.

you groaned and swatted blindly in his direction. "touch that blanket again and i will break your fingers with a spoon."

"it's sunday, y/n. you said you'd go on a walk with me today."

"that was before I remembered i don't care about cardio or you."

"that's so crazy, because just yesterday you literally made me a playlist titled 'songs i Might let you marry me to.'"

"that playlist was for research purposes," you deadpanned, eyes still shut.

riki sighed dramatically and dropped onto the bed beside you. "you know, most people would be emotionally devastated after two years of getting rejected, insulted, and kicked out of beds."

"and yet you're still here," you replied, rolling to the edge of the bed and shoving him off without remorse.

a thump followed by a muffled "ow." then silence.

"…riki?" you asked, half-heartedly.

"…do you think my ancestors felt that kick?"

you snorted and hid your face under the pillow.

"i think i broke my soul though," he groaned.

"your soul broke the moment you fell in love with me," you replied flatly.

he laughed from the floor. "true. but at least your foot touched me. that's progress."

minutes passed. then came the scent. bacon. croissants. that cinnamon-honey thing he knew you loved. the devil was trying to bribe you again.

he returned with a tray, balancing it like he'd just opened a michelin-star restaurant.

"peace offering," he said, smiling way too innocently. "i even shaped your eggs like hearts."

"you manipulative bastard," you said, grabbing the fork.

"say it with love, at least," he replied, sitting at the edge of the bed like he wasn't the human form of a disney dog.

you took a bite. then another. then stared at the plate.

"… did you drug this? why does this taste like you sold your soul to make it?"

"i did only with love. that duck you hate? he's my dealer."

you glared. "i hate you."

"no, you don't."

"yes, i do."

"you adore me. it's written all over your face."

"my face says restraining order," you muttered, shoveling food into your mouth.

"but seriously why is this good? i've never seen you cooking before." you asked, genuinely offended.

"i watched like seven youtube tutorials last night."

"you have issues."

"you love me for them."

without thinking, you mumbled, "yeah, i love you."

silence. a pin could've dropped and you would've heard it. you blinked, frozen mid-chew.

riki stared at you like he just got punched by a rainbow. slowly, a grin crept onto his face. the stupid kind. the "you're mine" kind.

"excuse me?" he whispered.

your brain short-circuited. "i meant- i love food. i love this food. not you. the eggs. the eggs were hot. i mean- heart. SHAPED. SHAPED like hearts, not from the heart. SHIT."

"you love me." he stood up, slowly.

"riki, don't-"

too late. he tossed the tray aside (gently), scooped you up, and spun you like you were made of glitter and giggles.

"PUT ME DOWN YOU DAMN TWIG!"

"you LOVE me! two years of waiting and it was breakfast that did it! god bless croissants!" he sang, holding you in the air like you were simba. "you said it!"

"I TAKE IT BACK!"

"no refunds!"

you flailed, laughing and fighting and trying not to grin as big as he was.

when he finally set you down, you huffed and crossed your arms. "you're still not my boyfriend."

"not officially," he said, leaning down until your noses almost touched. "but i'll keep waiting. as long as it takes for you to be ready."

you stared into his eyes. god, you hated him. you hated that he loved you with no timelines. no expectations. no ultimatums.

you sighed, defeated. "fine. but if we do date, you're doing all the grocery shopping."

"i already do."

"and laundry."

"i color-code your socks."

you squinted. "and if i say i want to keep pretending we're not dating?"

he smiled. "then i'll keep pretending. as long as you let me love you anyway."

tou rolled your eyes, lips twitching.

"…fine. But if you send me that duck again, i'm blocking you."

"that duck is already our child. be respectful."

𔓘

it was a tuesday. a very tuesday tuesday. cloudy sky, unwashed hair, socks that didn't match. the kind of day that screamed mediocre. you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of your living room, surrounded by snack wrappers and the shame of four unanswered emails.

riki was on your couch, upside down, feet on the backrest, head hanging off the seat like he had no blood circulation to care about.

you tossed a chip at his face.

"do you ever sit like a normal person?"

"do you ever admit you're in love with me?" he countered, catching the chip in his mouth.

you flipped him off.

he grinned. "see? that's your love language. vulgarity and projectiles."

you tried not to laugh, but your smile betrayed you. it always did around him.

two years of you saying "we're just friends," while he made you soup when you were sick, sent good night memes, and remembered how you hated the sound of ticking clocks.

you were a walking contradiction. don't have to keep loving me, but please stay forever.

and he did.

you leaned your head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

"hey." riki's voice broke the silence. he was sitting upright now, way too serious for your comfort. "i need to ask you something."

your stomach flipped. "if it's about me finally watching that anime you like, the answer's still no."

"it's not that." he sat on the floor across from you, legs folded. his eyes met yours, soft and steady. "i want to ask you something important."

your throat tightened.

"like… emotionally important?" you asked, squinting. "because i thought we had an unspoken agreement where i avoid feelings and you pretend i'm not emotionally constipated."

he gave a half-smile. "i've been pretending for two years. can i have five minutes of honesty?"

"…only if you promise not to propose."

he laughed, eyes crinkling. "fine. no proposals. not yet."

you narrowed your eyes. "not yet?"

"y/n."

"what?" you snapped.

"will you officially be my girlfriend?”

you stared. he waited. you stared harder.

"…seriously?" you said, blinking. "after two years of me bullying you into submission, now you want to make it official?"

"you said you loved me."

"i was full and sleepy! i would've said i loved a tree stump!"

"but you meant it."

"…shut up."

he scooted closer. "i want you. all of you. the sarcasm, the panic, the weird fear of emotionally manipulative ducks-"

"trauma," you muttered.

"-and even the way you kick me off your bed. i love it. i love you. and if you're still not ready, i can wait. but i just had to ask."

you looked down at your matching pair of socks which probably would've not been so if riki had not color-coded them.

"…if i say yes," you started slowly, "do i get to keep pretending that you annoy me?"

"absolutely."

"and i don't have to do any couple-y stuff i'm not ready for?"

"you set the pace. i'll just be here. with duck memes and breakfast."

You exhaled. then, quietly, "okay. fine. boyfriend status granted. but don't get smug."

too late. he tackled you backward in a hug, squishing your cheeks.

"my girlfriend said what?" he whispered in your ear.

you groaned. "don't make it weird-"

"my GIRLFRIEND-"

"i will revoke it so fast."

he pulled back, hands raised in surrender but eyes sparkling.

"deal," he whispered. "now let me update your contact name. i'm thinking 'duck wife.'"

"i'm breaking up with you."

"no takesies backsies."

this is my first piece so pls let me know your thoughts

[meiyokbf]

headcanon | sophia x transmasc!reader

author’s note: honestly been having so much fun writing these omg, please let me know what you guys think :) thank you so so much for the love and sorry for any typos! <3

warnings: pre transition!reader at the beginning, transmasc!reader, obvi. it kinda goes for both non-binary readers and transmen, too. hrt therapy & top surgery mentioned. nsfw at the end, MDNI.

🏷️: katseye x reader, sophia x reader, katseye smut, katseye, sophia laforteza, transmasc reader.

sophia would be the kind of girlfriend that would try her best to not make a big deal out of it.

because let’s be honest; it’s not a big deal!

pookie would activate ultimate leader mommy mode and would do Anything and Everything for you transition-wise.

she would google the entire history of trans healthcare in the US and be like:

“okay so i did my research and the system sucks BUT we will make it work.”

would gently correct people if anyone misgendered you.

“he, by the way.”

“my boyfriend, actually.”

and then she’d nudge you with a wink and whisper, “don’t worry babe, i got you.”

she was the one who encouraged you to come out to the katz, but in your own time.

and once you did, you looked over at sophia and pookie was bawling her eyes out.

she would buy you a binder with a note that says “just until we get you snatched for real.”

and let’s face it.

pookie bought it after like FOUR hours of research.

“i got one from gc2b because the reviews were kind, but i also emailed them. just to be sure.”

honey.

once you started T girlie considered going to nursing school just so she could apply it correctly on you.

would literally schedule a whole “tuesday testosterone ritual” with cozy music and warm tea.

and pookie tried to bake blue “T” shaped cookies for you but had to eat them all by herself once manon said they looked like avatar dicks.

and when you first talked about top surgery, she would light up and go:

“okay so do we start a jar? a spreadsheet? a tiktok to manifest?”

she would overpack your hospital bag like a mom going on a week-long trip to the beach even though it’s one overnight stay.

“i brought six pairs of socks, eight types of snacks, two power banks, a stuffed frog, and this picture of us because… comfort.”

she would cry harder than you after surgery, holding your hand in recovery and whispering “you did it, my brave boy, i’m so proud of you.”

she took time off just to be by your side, feeding you soup and helping you adjust pillows.

and also would post on her private story: “he got the titties out the way y’all!!! he’s free!!!”

and when you told her how grateful you were for her support, she’d just laugh and say:

“you were always him, babe. i just got front-row seats to watch him shine.”

babes.

if you think she has energy on her daily routine.

can you even imagine how she’s in bed.

sophia is a very very good switch (but she does love pleasing you and letting you use her.)

she would grin like a menace whenever you took your shirt off casually.

“oh, we’re just doing that now? you’re really gonna test me like that, huh?”

she might seem the responsible one but she would LOVE teasing you in public, even right next to the katz.

she’d absolutely tease you in public with sly whispers in your ear:

“remember when i had you moaning just from kissing your scars?”

she’d wear your favorite hoodie to bed, pull him between her legs, and whine:

“please fuck me, handsome. i need you so bad it hurts.”

and we all know sophia’s a talker.

so dirty talking is a must.

she would ask you to talk her through it, because his voice when he was in control made her melt.

“tell me what you want. don’t stop talking. i’m yours.”

and she would say the most gender-affirming things in the world for you.

sophia is a 100% a praiser.

she would drag her hands across your chest, mouth parted in awe, and say, “you’re fucking beautiful, you know that? look at you — so strong... all mine.”

you’d feel self conscious about your chest even after top surgery and pookie would know that.

she would always ask to see your chest during sex, not just because it turns her on, but because she knows what it means:

“please take it off… i want to feel your skin against mine. let me love all of you.”

and also. bare with me.

packer blowjobs.

!!!!!!!!!!

sophia was OBSESSED by the feeling of having your cock buried inside her throat.

babygirl would slid your packer in and out of her mouth and moan around you, “god, you’re so hard for me… you’re gonna make me come just from sucking you like this.”

and also… breeding kink…

even if both of you knew it wasn’t real; it was to her.

while riding you, she’d dig her nails into your back, voice trembling with need, “don’t hold back, baby… fill me up with your babies, make me yours like only you can…”

and after you made a mess out of her, sophia would spend hours tracing your scars with her fingers, kissing every inch of them.

“i’m so proud of you, my boy... you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”

[timble-tumble]

RIN WANTS TO EAT YOUR MAINE COON (the title isn't as bad as it seems TRUST ME)

TAGS: gn!reader x rin, fluff, crack, the eating cat part is not racially motivated I promise, cat n shellfish (yk how that goes), headcanons

A/N: I wrote this bc I rlly want a Maine Coon and it would be pretty funny to see Rin beef with a damn cat

You just recently got a Maine Coon, after relentlessly tormenting your landlord with 5 page long essays slowly piling up in their email AND mail box, they finally agreed (probably more than half of the reason being they don’t want their inbox flooded rather than actually listening to your argument) to let you house your very own Maine Coon. Unfortunately, not everyone was as excited as you (your landlord certainly wasn’t), partly because this Maine Coon was stealing all the attention.

Rin absolutely DESPISES your Maine Coon. He keeps thinking about how he wants to eat it (you also want to eat your cat, but in a loveable cute way) to get rid of it. A bit extreme, but he will do what he has to do to get your focus on him and only him.

He talks to your cat. Tells it off likes it’s a little kid. Tells it to stop stealing your attention. Once, you managed to catch him and stiffled a giggle as blush reached the tips of his ears. He pouted the whole day.

Your cat has this big smug ass expression plastered on it’s face at all times. The only time its not smirking is when it eats. It even has a smug expression when it’s sleeping. Rin gets very pissed at that expression, especially when it’s looking directly at him. It’s like it’s taunting Rin. Rin hates it.

Rin especially hates it when you let it climb into your lap. Why the cat?? Why not him?? And you just smile sweetly, like you didn’t just betray and backstab him by letting some random feline into such a sacred and safe place.

Your cat has undying love for shrimp (don’t ask). You did some research before letting your cat back into the kitchen after it nearly swiping the packet of shrimp right off your hands, and made sure to properly cook it so your cat doesn’t perish and die a stupid death. Rin is very tempted to just feed the cat the shrimp raw after you asked him to help. He’s also very tempted to feed it copious amounts. I mean– the cat would be pretty happy, and Rin would be pretty happy because the cat’s dead. But he won’t because he knows he’s probably going to end up dead (by you) if he ever attempted murder upon your beloved feline friend.

Sometimes you ask Rin to look after him while you’ve gone for a few minutes to get some snacks from the nearby convenience store, which in response he groans and mumbles some probably threatening statements towards the cat. He doesn’t say no, though. He just stares at your cat. And then it stares back. So when you return, you just see both of them having a very intense staring competition. You think it’s hilarious. Rin takes these staring competitions very seriously. He cannot afford to lose to some smug bastard (his words, not mine).

You somehow managed to train your cat to pounce on Rin when he visits. First thing, as soon as he opens your apartment door is some big beast with too much fur leaping in the air towards him. He can’t do anything about it either, as much as he’s trained to have quick reaction time (being a soccer player and all), such a behemoth is no match for the great striker Itoshi Rin. So he just lies there, limbs spread out in defeat in front of the doorway with some smug cat lazily lying on top of him. You’ve managed to sneak a few photos without Rin noticing.

As a maine coon, your cat has a shit ton of fur, which will obviously result in mountains of fur being stuck to every fabric and floor. Rin’s convinced there’s a certain radius around your house that is contaminated. And since he sometimes keeps his clothes at your house, he finds fur dropping out of it like dandruff. It’s especially bad when it’s his jerseys– he’s just running around the field and fur is flying out. Rin is now buying lint rollers so extensively you’d think he’s a collector of some sorts.

When he’s taking a nap, so often plop your behemoth cat on top or next to him, because really, this is the only time Rin will ever let that cat get within 5 metres of him (excluding the times he’s been jumped by it). When he wakes up, he groggily (and unconsciously) pets it’s head, thinking that it’s you. Then when he comes to the realisation he immediately jumps out of bed then chucks the cat out the door. And then he also tells you off and complains that it should’ve been you.

Rin HATES to admit that your maine coon is slightly (and only slightly) growing on him, he’s been SLIGHTLY more gentle towards the way he speaks to it, and he’s been giving it head pats when you aren’t looking and petting it more, but remember- only slightly (this is what he keeps telling you and you just laugh at him). He still hates it steals your attention, though. But he wouldn’t mind sharing.

jumpscare