#but i’m loving physiology so far

[cafeluv13]

AUG 18 / 23

first week of classes completed 🫀 i’m a little overwhelmed with the amount of stuff i have to learn, but i’m so excited for this semester

[chatonfils]

Starting off by saying I hate “mom Danny” bc it tends to be p transphobic and misgendering, so if anyone adds it to my post I’m blocking them.

Tim making his Kon clone baby, but the cloning chamber isn’t stable enough for the fetus. He’s desperately trying anything that he think might work, when he comes across Phantom. Phantom who has experience with stabilizing clones.

Danny had heard whispers through the grapevine (Ellie who’d joined the Teen Titans as Phantasm) that there was someone attempting to make clones. He’d only meant to snoop and see if it was a Vlad situation. If any clones had been made and needed liberating. What he found was a newly minted Red Robin crying over a red blinking message on a cloning chamber. He warbled a quiet “please, Kon, I don’t want to live without you.”

Danny quickly realizing this wasn’t an attempt to replace and destroy, but actually someone grieving, in probably an unhealthy way, but who was Danny to judge, he’d once replaced Sam and Tucker with robots for less. So he decided to help Red Robin out. Sure, he hadn’t dealt with kryptonian dna before, but he was at least 89% sure halfa dna was way more complicated. And Red Robin had already figured out ways around the dna shenanigans, it was just the stability that wasn’t going well. Honestly, he didn’t think it would be as easy as an ecto dejecto like it had been for Ellie. But his parents had a lot of inventions that they’d started making to help out ghosts, once they’d realized Danny was Phantom. Maybe telling Red Robin about ghost IVF wasn’t his most thought through plan.

“I think what might help is an incubator.” Phantom had suggested.

Tim could only gesture at the cloning chambers that had failed him thus far. They were essentially huge incubators.

Phantom awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I meant, like, a living incubator. Like a surrogate.”

“Where am I going to find someone that I not only trust to carry the baby, but also would volunteer?” Tim raised an eyebrow at him. Hell, had Tim had the equipment to do so, he would have carried the baby, everything else be damned. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Phantom blushed green and looked away. “It might take a little tinkering with the embryos to work with the physiology, but…. I could carry the baby for you. I mean, I’m trans, and even if I wasn’t, ghosts are kind of malleable in a reproductive sense. And there are options for IVF in ghost science. And like, my own clone is like my little sister. I’m also a protection spirit, so I would protect the baby with my entire afterlife. And I’m kind of rambling so you should say something before I embarrass myself.”

“You would be willing to carry a baby for me?” Tim was shell shocked by the offer.

“I mean, yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not cloning him for a malicious reason. You’re just trying to bring back a piece of your friend because you love and miss him. Dedication that strong for someone who has left the living plain, is admirable. You realized early on that you wouldn’t be able to increase the speed in which the clone grew. You’ve been trying despite knowing that this clone will be a baby that’s going to be your child, and not just the friend you lost. And I wouldn’t mind giving up my body for a little bit so you can make your family.”

Tim certainly hadn’t meant to surge forward and kiss Phantom. “Thank you.” Tim pulled Phantom into a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It took about a month for them to work out the kinks of making the baby safe for Danny’s body. In this time, Danny showing Red Robin his human form, and Tim revealing his own identity. It felt kind of wrong to keep his name from someone he intended to get pregnant with his child. Tim and Danny got close as they worked together on the baby. And there may have been a few more kisses shared between them. In the end, the baby ended up spliced with mostly Kon’s dna, some of Tim’s (to stabilize the kryptonian dna), and some of Danny’s (to keep the baby safe in the womb).

Once Danny was well and truly pregnant, he encouraged Tim to find Bruce. “I’ll keep the baby safe. You find your dad. If you need me for anything, I’m only a call away.” Tim hadn’t forgotten about Bruce, he’d just never thought it would take so long to set up cloning Kon. So much of his hurt and loneliness had fallen away in Danny’s presence, and Danny had let him hyper focus on making their baby.

“Probably terrible timing, but I’ve got to ask,” Tim swallowed nervously. “Be my boyfriend?”

Danny’s lopsided smile, thawed Tim’s nerves. “I think I could work with that. I hope you don’t mind kids though, I’m kind of pregnant.”

Tim huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep in touch while I’m away. Please keep me updated on the baby.”

Danny pulled him into a proper kiss, “I will.”

I’m mostly imagining Tim getting bump update photos and falling in love with his increasingly pregnant boyfriend, while he finds Bruce.

I’m also imagining after Bruce is back, Tim being like, “anyways gtg, my boyfriend is in his third trimester and I don’t want to miss the birth of our baby.” And peacing out before any bats could react, let alone stop him.

And also maybe when Kon comes back, there’s maybe a poly relationship started.

Also thinking about Tim getting Danny pregnant without the science.

Danny gets Dad, Tim gets Papa, and if Kon joins, he gets Poppy.

[skydaemon]

Okay I’m awake again and something that really stood out to me with TSC was how different jean and neil are as protagonists. I expected they would be, but the thing I really noticed was how distinct their reactions were.

So, these books are HEAVY. There are many many traumatic events and the characters spend a lot of time in high-stress situations. Even when they’re not being attacked or threatened or XYZ, they’re often in a state of heightened physiological arousal (their sympathetic nervous system is going haywire). As a psychologist, the thing I find really interesting is that we see very different reactions that are all aligned with different adrenal responses, and I wanted to talk about it.

As a baseline, when your sympathetic nervous system is activated, you typically experience what some psychologists call the four Fs. Fight, flight, freeze, and/or fawn (some people use another word here but I don’t like it and think it’s less accurate to the situation). These can occur simultaneously or alone. And of the four characters who are most showing this response are the ones who are consistently in the highest stress situations, but who are also traumatised in such a way that even when they’re not actively in danger their sympathetic nervous system is overreactive and heightened.

So first off, we have Neil. He’s pretty clearly shown to have two responses: flight and fight. For his entire childhood, he’s been fleeing from danger and in the earlier parts of AFTG, we see this response - he tries to run as far as he can possibly get from anything that might be a risk. As a side point, this is pretty clearly a learned response from his mother. As Neil begins to feel more secure and his flight response is impeded (he can’t run away) we see the emergence of his other primary adrenal response - fight. I don’t feel like I need to explain this one, tbh, we’ve all seen how he runs his mouth. Fight is also typically shown when you believe you can defeat whatever’s threatening you, so I love what this says about how his confidence develops across the trilogy.

Then you have Andrew. He’s not a POV protagonist but I feel like his response might be the most obvious. His primary responses are fight and freeze (Andrew Minyard runs from/fawns for no man). Fight is pretty obvious - he’s a very violent person - but I feel like the most clear example of this is stopping Riko from attacking Neil. Andrew is obviously wired and his instinctive response is to protect. I love that for him. His other primary response, unfortunately, is freeze. Based on the most obvious time we see it (during Drake's attack), this is probably a response he developed as a child, before he felt strong/safe enough to fight back. God, these books make me sad sometimes.

Next is Kevin. He has a slightly more varied response - i can see the argument for him freezing, although i wouldnt say it's a primary response - but his main two responses are fight and fawn. Fight isn't necessarily literal, btw - the most obvious example is covering his tattoo. His fawn response is slightly more expanded on in TSC (mild spoilers if you haven't read that yet) when we see him responding to Riko's attack by begging first Riko and then Jean to intercede and stop the violence. he's trying to appeal to their affection for him, which is absolutely heartbreaking. Kevin i love you.

And finally, we have Jean, whose primary responses are only really made clear in TSC, although they are backed up by his appearances in the trilogy - freeze and fawn. We see freezing in Jean's response to sympathetic nervous system arousal, often from hearing about or recalling upsetting events/information. He closes in on himself and becomes unresponsive. Fawn is slightly more complicated, as we see it somewhat throughout AFTG. when he's loyal to riko and doing things he thinks riko will like in hopes of reducing any potential pain/threat he will experience, i'd call that fawning. an example at usc is him getting on his knees and handing coach rhemann his racket - he's not just submitting to punishment, he's trying to be helpful and well-behaved in hopes of lessening it. it's honestly a really strong response from him and it absolutely breaks my heart. jean in tsc is really struggling and i hope the last book brings him some peace. i also find it really painful that he's the only one of these boys without a fight response - he's never felt capable of winning against his abusers. i really hope the trojans and bee are able to help change that.

[strbymacaroon]

Silent Love: Ch. 1 - New Roommate(s)

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter One

Master-List: Here!

Read on Ao3: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 14,003

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 13th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Monday

“He was so big.” Nobara shivers, a small smile gracing her lips. “I know he was totally texting other girls behind my back and shit, but that dick was dicking.” She points aggressively at nothing, merely trying to make her point stronger. 

“Ew. Can you not tell me that right now? I’m eating.” You turn away from her, twisting your fork in your noodles, “I was gone for a week, and this is what you do in my absence. You should be ashamed of yourself.” You take a bit of your food, but immediately follow it with a sip of your Sprite. Adding a cough with a very suspicious word that rhymes with shut. 

Nobara playfully glares at you, “No girl, you signed up for this when we became friends, you need to know.” Nobara leans her head down on the table, biting her bottom lip. “I’m telling you, I miss my stink-stink.” She pulls out her phone, “Maybe I should text him…” 

“I don’t want to hear you crying about him anymore.” You scold, pointing your fork at her accusingly, “I can’t deal with your sobbing when I’m trying to go to bed because he broke your heart again.” It’s the reason you're moving out, actually. 

That's being mean, it isn’t the reason why you’re moving out. But, it definitely is one of them. 

A playful smirk slowly builds on Nobara's face, “It won’t be my emotions I'm crying over.” She laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“Okay, that’s enough for brunch today.” You shut your Panda Express box closed, “Call me when you're no longer in heat so you can help me pack.” You grab your tote-bag, slinging it over your shoulders. 

Nobara pouts, “Awh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me already.” She pushes herself away from the table, trailing behind you. “I mean, I’m not stopping you, but who would want to leave me?” 

Obviously you do. 

“Are you moving in with your parents in the meantime?” Nobara asks, tilting her head at you. 

You shake your head, “No, I already have an apartment contract. Rooming with this random girl who goes to a different school.” You sigh, “It’s a bit far for my comfort, but the view to the city is gorgeous. Couldn’t pass it up.” You’re going to have to deal with taking public transportation from now on, but that’s a new risk you’re willing to take. 

“Yeah, my new roommate is moving in on Monday.” Nobara sighs, “I don’t even know her name yet…” 

“That can be a good thing, maybe you’ll make a new friend to tell you sex stories to.” You smile at her kindly. 

“No, I swear if you cut me off after you move out I’ll go and kill you myself.” Nobara accuses, a finger pointing at you scoldingly. “You have to have lunch with me everyday now that I can’t see you.” 

You may be mean, but you’re not that mean. “Of course not, I would never leave you. I wouldn’t give up your answers for Anatomy and Physiology.” You tap her nose, grabbing her hand and pulling her next to you. “Also your wallet for amazing food.”

“Good to know all I’m good for is homework answers and food.” Nobara groans, yet tightens her hand around yours nonetheless. “Next time I swear I’m going to let you figure things out on your own. No more puppy eyes when you don’t want to do the homework, or when you’re hungry.” 

“That could be a good thing. Except the food part.” You mutter, an amused smile slowly building on your lips. “I’m sure my future patients will appreciate me learning the curriculum rather than copying someone else.” 

“Agreed.” She leans her head on your shoulder, hugging your arm. “Hopefully you’ll be able to pass the final without me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass life without you.” 

You lean your head atop of her’s, sighing softly. “You’ll be okay, next thing you know your next roommate is going to be reenacting you when you tell her your sex stories.” Sure, Nobara is a hard person to get along with and can be quite brash, but you still enjoy her friendship nonetheless. 

Nobara pauses for a moment in thought, “Wait? Do you want me to call my friends? They can also help you pack.” She smiles wickedly, “We can make them do the heavy stuff because we’re just..” She dramatically places the back of her hand to her forehead, “Weak little fraile women who can’t do anything without the fear of breaking a nail.”

You look at your nails, seeing that they were freshly done, a cute white set with small jews sparkling in the sun. “That is a genuine concern of mine, though.” You lower your hand again, being careful not to snag it on your bag. 

“Even better.” Nobara smiles, tearing her hand away from you and pulling out her phone to open her messages. “Here, I’ll call them and ask for help.” She clicks someone’s contact before you can even answer. 

“No, please don’t.” You tell her, watching as her finger hovers over the call button. “I don’t even know these people and I’m asking them to do stuff for me, that’s going to make me feel bad.” You press your lips together, “Maybe if they were my friends… but it’s okay, I’ll have everything done.” 

Nobara waves you off, “Nonsense, it’s not like they have anything better to do.” She laughs, “Hell, they’re probably just laying around waiting for me to call them to give them something to do.” Her finger presses the call button, you immediately cringe. 

The phone rings once, before the line is picked up. Nobara looks to the side, “You busy?” You can’t hear the other side, but she smiles and quickly adds, “No you’re not, stop being like that. Come help me pack after class.” She ends the call, shoving the phone into her back pocket.

“I hope they don’t come.” You whisper, only to pause, “Oh my god! Shit, I completely forgot I’m supposed to meet up with my professor right now!” You pull away from Nobara, panicking, “I’ll be right back, I’ll—I’ll meet you at our dorm!” You shove your food into her hands before quickly dashing off, your skirt bouncing with each step.

—

You’re out of breath, but slam the doors or your lecture hall open, catching the attention of the white haired professor. You’re quick to glance at the time, seeing it was almost two minutes past your professors office hours. 

You pray to Satan's right ass cheek that your professor is still here. 

Your professor passes you a quick glance, before singing, “Office hours ended two minutes ago.” He continues collecting the papers on his small desk and putting them in his bag. “But, I’ll humor you since I know you’re not the physical type.” 

You’re aware of how hard you’re breathing from running, the words come out jagged as you drop your bag to the floor, “T–Touche..” You move to his desk, picking up a few papers and handing it to him, although it’s in your better interest. You lean your body on the desk. 

“So…” He draws, blue eyes flickering from his desk to your face, “What did you need help with?” There's a hint of playfulness behind his voice, but it’s equally as mocking. 

Ugh, you hate Professor Gojo. Okay… that’s a lie, he’s really nice to look at, but that’s all. “I’m sure you got my many emails and noticed my empty seat, but I couldn’t be here for a solid week.” You pass him a meek smile.

“Why were you out?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. You’ve always liked that about Gojo, how animated he is. It adds an interesting draw to his lectures. Seeing his hands flail dramatically around to emphasize any topic he was teaching. 

You look to the side, instantly avoiding eye contact, your heart tugging at the thought. “Uhm… F-Family emergency..” You wave your hand, as if the topic was a fly you were trying to rid, “I was just wondering, what I missed? We do anything important?”

Professor Gojo places his hands on his lips, looking at the roof in thought. “Hm, I don’t think you missed too much.” He grabs his black sunglasses and pushes his hair back with them. “Just a month-long project that takes up thirty percent of your grade.” 

Your eyes widen, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach while your jaw falls slack. “You’re joking.” You take a step back, it feels like you’re going to faint. “Oh my god. Please don’t say that.” Why didn’t Nobara tell you anything about this?!

Professor Gojo smiles, “Not lying, unfortunately.” He flips his sunglasses to fit comfortably on the bridge of his nose, “Your grade is totally tanked.” He tilts his head to the side, white silky strands falling with him. “Unless you can make up a week of lost time in a month.” He thinks, “It’s the thirteenth, so, it might be possible.”

A week worth of work, that doesn’t even include your other classes. Work you also need to catch up on. You quickly try to calculate the workload for the other classes, but immediately feel worse when you do. You’re sitting around twenty hours, maybe even twenty five hours of work. 

It’s manageable, you’ve done it before your freshman year when something similar happened, it may be the reason why your life ends early, but definitely doable. Also something you definitely don’t want to do either.

For a brief second, you're tempted to pull down your shirt and ask him, ‘Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?’ Like those weird pornos or fanfics you and Nobara view to pass time, but you immediately think against it. 

One, that isn’t going to work. This isn’t a fanfic. 

Two, you’re pretty sure Gojo is gay, and married. 

Although, if you were to tell Gojo that last one, you’re sure he would be offended. Yet, immediately follow it up with pictures of his gay partner. Why do you think that? You’re pretty sure you’ve seen it happen before. Like, seventy-six percent sure. 

So, you cringe and ask, not seductively at all, “Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?” You’re sure Gojo is aware of your shiny GPA, something which many of your college professors attempt at tainting, but can’t with how determined you are to keep up your grades. 

Gojo looks at the roof again, thinking for a moment. “I can assign you a different project, or I can just assign the original project to you.” He looks at his desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through the papers, “Which do you want to do?” 

“Is this a final?” Your question is a bit blunt, but Gojo picks up it’s purely fear talking. 

“This is the only thing I’m grading this before your final. Meaning, it’s due…” Gojo leans forward, looking at the calendar on his desk. “The eighth of December. And don’t worry, it’s a project just going in as an assessment grade.” 

That’s right, finals are right around the corner, on the eleventh of December. Meaning, if you procrastinate on this project, or somehow fall behind, you’re sitting–at most–a weekend of studying for your finals. 

God, this makes everything so much more stressful for you. 

He wiggles his shoulders, “I wanted to give my students a break to study.” He cups his face, “Aren’t I an amazing person?” 

No. Your eye twitches, “Yeah, such an amazing person.” You sigh, moving away from his desk and grabbing a chair. “What was the assignment?” You prop it right next to his chair, grabbing the staple of paper and skimming through the stipulations of the project. 

“You’re popular, right?”

No one is popular in college, people just won’t shut up. “Define popular.” You grimace. 

Gojo doesn't miss a beat when saying, “You have many friends, right?” 

You don’t miss a beat when saying, “Define many?” 

Gojo gives you an indescribable look, “What do you mean describe many? What else would that mean?” 

You look to the side, “Well, if I came to lecture and ate five cheeseburgers, you’d be like, wow, that’s a lot of food. But, if I told you I only had five friends, you’d be like, wow, that’s not many friends.” You reason. 

Gojo doesn’t look disappointed, but he’s not necessarily proud either. “Well, you.. don’t, right?” He passes you an empathetic look. 

“Of course not.” Gojo sighs in relief, “I only have two.” Gojo ignores your remark and snatches the paper from you, ignoring your playful grin. He’s quick to explain the project, but with each stipulation you feel your stomach tying itself into knots. 

Partner work? 

Mental Evaluation? 

A project where you pick a student to physically and mentally evaluate their day to day life for a week. Learning about their eating habits, working habits, study habits, and personal life. Then, write an essay about your studies and your personal evaluation on their health, life, and personal character. Gojo assured you that this paper should be told to the participant, however does not have to be shared with them, and will not be shared with anyone other than himself. 

The project seems evasive… you wonder if it’s even allowed. Which seems right up Gojo’s alley. He was always in people’s business. But, a grade is a grade, and you're not going to complain. He’s one to assign something much harder to teach you a lesson about complaining.  

Gojo grabs a pen and writes something down in your packet, “I’m already aware you want to become a physical therapist, so I’ll put that down as the hands on part of your project.” He doodles a small version of him worshiping the rubric, “However, since a handful of students already chose to do medical physical therapy, I’ll have you do sports physical therapy.” 

You feel your stomach turn again. Sports? You haven’t played a sport, more or less exercised, since your highschool days. Even then, you weren’t in a physically demanding sport such as volleyball or soccer, you did marching band. 

Which you could argue was extremely physically demanding, but you regress. 

Gojo adds your name to a shared spreadsheet, adding your name to the sport physical therapy colom. A small shiver of relief soars over your body when you see the name Maki. Thank god. At least you know someone. You’re pretty sure you have her number, too. 

Gojo looks at you again, resting on the palm of his hand. “It doesn't change much. Instead of choosing a random student, now you have to choose a student athlete for your project to be based off of. It’s simple, and shouldn't take more than a few weeks. For you at least.”

It’s nice for Gojo to have faith in you, but you don’t have it in yourself. “Thanks.” You take the paper from him, again looking through the packet again. It seems simple on paper, the most difficult part seems to be finding someone willing to be the participant, but you’re sure you can manage.

Hopefully. 

Gojo waves you off, “I’ll see you in class.” 

You’re already off, grabbing your bag and shoving your papers into it. Off in a rush to the next place demanding your attention. Which feels like overwhelmingly everything this past week. 

—

You smile, your hands signing, “That’s cool, you are really good at drawing.” You use a pink crayon to continue your drawing, a simple picture of the young girl sitting across from you. She’s in elementary school and incredibly shy, often choosing to stay by your side when it’s playtime. You don’t mind.

She smiles at you, grabbing her sparkly notebook and writing a quick, “Thanks.” Before quickly pushing it away and continuing to color the sun an interesting shade of purple. You take a small mental note, the sun should be purple, it’s pretty. 

You continue to braid her long hair, being careful not to tug too hard and accidentally mess up her artwork. You use a hair tie with a pink bow to tie it off, making sure all the strands are secure before pulling two small strands to frame her face. 

You move to the left of her, telling her, “Now we are matching.” She awkwardly giggles at that. 

“Where’s the president?” 

Your head whips around, looking for whoever called you. You immediately know from the way they’re addressing you, it’s a parent. You place a hand on the girl's back, standing up and making your way to the impatient parent. 

You pass her a kind smile, “Can I help you?” 

“I’m here for my child.” She seethes at you, her eyes moving up and down your frame, “Is that even appropriate for working with children? Do they pay you to dance on a pole and dress like a–” 

“I’m not getting paid.” You tell her, holding your hands behind your back, “I’m the president of the ASL club here, we teach people about ASL and the language, we also volunteer here when the School of Deaf Children have a small field trip to our school.” You smile brighter, “I don’t get paid to do anything.” You reiterate.

She gives you a look between disgust and jealousy, which you can’t blame her. Not everyone can be intelligent and as beautiful as you. “What’s your child’s name? I can grab them for you.” You call for a member of the club, telling them to bring a clipboard with the sign out sheet. 

When they do, you give the items to the mother and search for her son. You click your foot on the floor three times, the vibrations sending a silent call for the boy. He turns his head and looks at you, watching as you point behind you at his mother. He sighs and gathers his things. 

You laugh and move back to the mother, taking the clipboard and skimming over the information she added. You ignore how she misspelled his name, actually, that’s a lie, you erased it and fixed her mistake. You do ignore the nasty glare she gives you. 

“He always enjoys being here with us,” You watch as the little boy tugs his things to you, feet dragging on the floor dramatically. You place a hand on his head, “I’ll see you on the next field trip.” 

She scowls at you, but softens her gaze on her child, asking him about his day. There’s a genuine smile on her face while she talks to her child, so you don’t let her words get to you. 

“Don’t know how you do it.” Her voice is sharp, pulling you to look at her. “Especially after meeting with Gojo, you’re a trooper.” There’s a hint of playfulness, although you can barely pick up on it due to her RBF. 

You laugh dryly, “Oh, I–I don’t know, I’m just…” 

“Your flask is sticking out of your pocket.” Maki points at your torso, her face as emotionless as ever. 

Your eyes widen with fear, looking down at your torso only to notice you don’t have pockets. You pass her a hard glare, “Ha ha. Very funny.” You lean your weight on one of your legs, “I would be dead if found with something like that, especially here.” You gesture to the children behind you. 

Maki laughs, “So..” She starts, “I’m sure you’ve finally gotten the project.” 

You groan, looking back at the club working with the kids. “Ugh, yeah.” You roll your eyes, “I don’t know what’s worse, that fact it’s thirty percent of my grade, or I have to humiliate myself to a random athlete to pass it.” You sigh.

Maki’s eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, you’re also doing athletes? I thought you would be in “physical therapy” where you can just choose random friends.” She tilts her head, “Isn’t that what you’re kinda known for?” 

You mush your eyebrows together, “Wait, what do you mean?... Known for?” You pause, “Wait, don’t tell me that how people know me?..” 

Maki laughs, before mockingly saying, “Oh, wait? Is that the girl who wants to become a physical therapist? You think she has the answers?” She crosses her hands over her chest, “Something someone has said to me while doing work.” 

You pout, “Why can’t I be known for how cute I dress, or something?” Why couldn't you be known as that mysterious hot girl in lecture? “Whatever, I don’t care…” You do care, you care a lot. “But, no yeah, Gojo said there wasn’t any room, so he put me in the physical therapy for athletes slot.” 

Maki cringes, “Rough. But I wouldn’t worry, it’s just a few people in our class.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You know what’s rougher? Actually finding the athlete, luckily my little brother is one so I got a free pass.” She laughs, cupping her mouth, “And I don’t have to embarrass myself following a random boy like a puppy.”

You feel your eyes widen, “Shit, we really have to follow them around?” You sigh, “I don’t even know any athletes, I don’t even know where to start…” You look at one of the kids running around, making sure to keep an eye on them in case they trip. “I feel like I’m going to embarrass myself by asking a random one to help me.” 

“I think Gojo is plotting.” Maki says, “He’s bored and wants something exciting to happen, so he decided to make this stupid project where we’re forced to be close to someone twenty-four-seven.”

You laugh, a decently sized crowd passing behind you and Maki. “Sounds like Gojo.” You cup your mouth, as if anyone were interested in your conversation and whisper, “I heard he assigned a boy and a girl together back when he first started teaching and now they’re married working on campus.” 

“Oh yeah, have the girl’s lecture class.” Maki looks at the sky, “Gojo fiends for drama, but we all know this.” She turns over her shoulder, wondering about the loud and obnoxious conversation behind her, only to notice the large crowd of boys. She softly groans in annoyance. 

You quickly eye them alongside her. 

“Football boys,” She mutters, clearly agitated. “Hate them all, so glad my brother isn’t one of them.” 

“Should I ask one of them to do my project?” You tilt your head, watching as they slowly move away from you, their loud chatter getting more distant. “Maybe if I pull down my shirt enough someone will say yes.” 

Maki scoffs a laugh, “Yeah. That could definitely work.” She looks back at the group, her happy expression falling for a moment, “Just don’t get the pink haired one. He’s a dick.”

Your eyes snap back to the group, you didn’t even notice a pink haired guy, “What, why?” You don’t recognize him, which means you don’t have any classes with him. 

“Some asshole.” Maki scowls, turning back to look at you. If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “He’s a football player who doesn’t know shit about the real world, got everything handed to him while growing up.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about it in class.” She shakes her head, “You should hear him, so full of himself, and won’t shut the fuck up.” She pivots a foot behind the other, “He’s rude, too. The only people he’s somewhat nice to, are his professors.”

You laugh, “That’s how it is sometimes, Maki.” You look back at him, he’s tall and built, “Besides…” You smile at Maki’s disgusted face, knowing what you’re going to say. “If he’s hot, he could do whatever he wants for me and I’d thank him.” 

“You’re hanging around Nobara too much.” Maki turns on her heel, “Whatever, if you choose him as a partner and fail, I’ll be the first one to tell you..” She smiles over her shoulder, “I told you so.” 

You’re not going to, but you say, “I doubt it.” You turn back to the kids, wanting to put your full attention on them again, but pause. Your eyes travel to look back at the man, skimming over his body again. 

Maybe you can die on this hill, but assholes are hot. 

Then again, you don’t know any assholes in your life, so you can totally be delusional and be reading too many fanfics for your own good. But, Nobara does, and she loves her asshole, you think. So, they can’t be that bad, especially if they look that good. 

Whatever. You have more important things to obsess about. 

—

You’re about to enter your room, when the door swings open, slamming into your face. You whimper, stumbling backwards into the wall behind you. Both your hands cupping your face in pain, your cute bag falling to the floor. 

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.” A pair of hands make their way to your shoulders, “I didn’t think anyone would–holy shit, Nobara!” The person shouts, “I accidentally killed someone with the door!” Their voice is boyish, but in some weird way that is what makes it charming. 

Someone else rounds the corner, your guess is that it’s Nobara. “You killed her?” She pushes the boy away from you, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as she crams you in her neck, “Poor thing’s had a rough day, and this is what you welcome her home to?!”

“I’m so sorry!” The boy responds, he sounds very ashamed. 

“Keep it down, it’s three, everyone’s trying to nap right now.” Another boyish voice perks up, he sounds more monotone than the first one. As if he also had woken from a nap, “Try bringing the body inside before panicking.” 

“Good idea, Megumi.” You feel a pair of hands grab your waist and hoist you up, throwing you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You don’t know if you should be offended, or flattered. “We’ll check for a pulse when we’re inside.” 

Nobara's voice pops up again, “Wait! Be careful of her skirt! You’re going to flash people!” She scolds, and you pray to everything that is almighty that there isn’t anyone in the dorm hall. “Megumi, you grab her bag!” 

There’s no way this is happening. You move one of your hands to press on the fabric of your skirt, pressing it against the high of your thighs. “I got it.” You tell her while the man carries you into the room, Nobara shutting the door behind the two of you. 

You take this time to finally look at the other man in your room, not the one carrying you, just to specify. The man has jet black hair, part of you wonders if it’s dyed, and pale skin. His eyes look a bit lifeless, but you can’t blame him, it is college after all. If you can remember correctly, the man holding you like a potato-sack called him Megumi.

You’re dropped on your bed, your hair fluttering around your head. For a moment, you feel like time has stopped, the boy in front of you smiling widely. You want to laugh at the irony, a part of you thinks, what a small world? Then, you remember you attend a college, and the only people who walk around at that college are the students who attend that college. 

Wow, who would’ve thought, right?

So, the first thing that leaves your lips is, “I like your hair.” To give yourself some credit, it’s what you found the most interesting part of his backside.

The boy tilts his head, his hand moving to run it through his pink tufts, “Thanks.” He leans on the bed next to you, he’s still looking at you as he says, “I like you.” He smiles again, grabbing one of Nobara’s pillows, “You’re light, by the way.” 

Flattered. That, or he’s just freakishly strong, which seems more plausible. Still, his words strike a place in your chest, either that or you really need to talk to more people. You turn to Nobara, “I like him, why haven’t you invited him to our dorm before?” 

Nobara gives you a look, and that answers your question. She juts her thumb at the boy sitting next to you, “Yuuji’s been the one taking your stuff to my car.” She cocks her head at the other boy in the room, he’s enamored by something on his phone. “Megumi’s been actually packing your things.” She winks, “He ended up only using like three–four boxes with his packing skills.”

Your face lights up, “Really? That’s awesome!” That means you can return the other six you bought from Home Depot for way more than you should’ve. “Thanks, you just saved me like twenty bucks.” 

Megumi gives you a thumbs up, before looking back at his phone. Now that you’re really looking at him, he looks really familiar, you just can’t put your finger on it. You could swear you’ve seen that RBF somewhere before…

Nobara furrows her eyebrows, marching over to Megumi and grabbing his face, “Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She puts her hand on the back of his head, forcing him into a subtle bow. “When I introduce you to someone, actually look at them, jerk!” 

Megumi seems to pout almost, giving into Nobara’s demands and bowing, giving you a half-hearted, “I’m Megumi Fushiguro, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Even when Nobara removes her hand, he stays in that position. 

You find it a bit cute. 

“Wait, we’re saying our full name?” Yuuji tilts his head so he’s practically nose to nose with your face, “I’m Yuuji Itadori, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He looks back at Nobara, “She doesn’t shut up about you.” 

A pillow hits him directly in the face, and Yuuji dramatically falls with it. Acting if he had gotten shot with a gun. Nobara points her nose up, “What you get for running your mouth, I-ta-dor-i.” She says his name with so much conviction, you were almost offended by it. 

Yuuji lays on the bed, his side touching the small of your back, “When will my suffering end, I slave away putting heavy boxes in your car, only for you to stab me in the back like this.” Yuuji grabs the back of your shirt, “You would never do this to me, right?” He sniffles, his hands crawling to hold your torso in a hug. “You would always have my back, right?!”

You snicker, one of your hands moving to cup both of his. You give him a somber look, shaking your head, “No. I would never do this to you, Yuuji.” You hold his hands tighter, “Absolutely never.” You whisper.

Yuuji blinks a few times, letting his head fall on the bed with a soft thud. “The light?... I–I see the light, I don’t want to–I don’t want to go.” 

You stifle a laugh, turning your body to face him, “No! Don’t leave me!” You throw yourself over Yuuji, “I can’t do this without you!” You have no clue what “this,” even is. “I can’t lose you, too!” You’ve never lost anyone before, well.. that’s if you don’t count the plushly you lost at the mall one time.

Yuuji falls slack against the bed, sticking his tongue out and mumbling, the most realistic death sound of, “Bleh!” You finally burst out in laughter, pulling away from Yuuji to clutch onto your stomach. 

Yuuji quickly props his head up on his hand, “Anyway, I’ve been dying. When are we going out to eat, Nobara?” He passes Nobara a careless smile, as if he hadn’t put on the most cringeworthy act with you as his co-actor. 

Nobara gives him an indescribable look, one that borderlines anger and disbelief. 

Megumi blinks a few times, “Well, at least they get along just fine.” He gives the two of you a small applause. Which the two of you deeply appreciate.

Nobara blinks alongside him, whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talk this much when she’s with me.” She doesn’t know to be offended, or weirdly proud that you’re finally talking to people. Albeit, she would’ve preferred if you became more social outside the comfort of your bedroom, but hey, baby steps. 

You turn over your shoulder, peering at Yuuji again. “I can order some pizza, and when me and Nobara go to my new apartment, you can pick it up and bring it over.” You grab a piece of your hair from his back, you’re guessing it came off when he carried you. 

Yuuji blinks at you with a bit of sparkle in his eyes, “I think you’re my new favorite person.” 

“Are we friends now?” 

“Best friends.” Yuuji clarifies with full seriousness. 

You loudly laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth as you turn away from Yuuji. “Oh my god, he’s so fun.” You let yourself fall on his back, laying down while looking at the ceiling. 

You feel your body collapse for a moment, the aching and stress from the day crashing down on you. Sure, there’s a human below you, but you could be on a bed of pins and still find some form of relief by laying down. 

Like Megumi said earlier; It’s three, everyone is taking a nap right now. That should be you right now, sleeping on your uncomfortable-comfortable college assigned bed alongside your collection of stuffed animals you won from an arcade, and the dozens of blankets you bought from Target with the mindset of: One more couldn’t hurt. 

“If you want, I can move?” Yuuji asks. 

“No.” You tap his back a few times, as if you were a Dad patting a massive dog. “I’m already comfy. I wanna’ take a nap.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, and in the moment it feels like heaven. You really need a nap. 

Yuuji nods with conviction, “Okay, I won’t move.” He quite literally freezes, you’re sure he’s not even breathing from how still he is. 

Your sentence breaks in cracks of laughter as you say, “You can breathe, babe.”

Yuuji clearly lets out a long sigh. You laugh again. 

You want to lay like this forever, but you have an apartment waiting for your arrival. Besides, you’re going to feel even better when you’re laying down in your new bed in your new room. Suddenly, you’re bubbling with energy. 

You collect yourself before pushing yourself off the bed, reaching for your bag, “Here, I’ll go check I have everything in your car and order the pizza.” You turn to Yuuji, “I can tell you when to pick up.”

Yuuji nods, giving you a thumbs up. 

Nobara follows after you, grabbing her keys. Yet, before she leaves the room, she points at both of the boys and says, “Be good.” Then, shuts the door behind her with a smile. “Now, let’s hope to come back to a room with two living men.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Have they tried to kill each other before…?”

Nobara looks to the side thinking, “They have. A good handful of times, actually.” She laughs, thinking about the two boy’s bickering at times, “Yuuji can be something else, and Megumi needs his time alone to function. Sometimes, it’s like trying to make peace between a dog and a cat.”

“Impossible?” You ask with a smile.

“Exactly.” 

You give a humorous laugh, “Is Yuuji the dog?” 

“A big dog.” 

You laugh again, but your conversation with Maki pops into your head again. This time, you voice your thoughts, “I like Yuuji, he’s fun. Cute, too.” Nobara shivers, as if the thought of Yuuji being cute physically revolted her. “But, Maki said she doesn’t like him.” 

Nobara thinks for a moment, “Maki’s the junior in our class right?” You nod in confirmation, Nobara stays silent for a moment, still thinking. “Weird. I didn’t know she knew Yuuji. To be honest, I thought she was the type of person to hate underclassmen.” 

You can’t disagree with her, “Huh. She really does give that vibe?”

“We all have our personal vendettas.” Nobara shrugs, looking at the sky. It’s starting to get dark, the sky blending into hot colors. “I know Megumi doesn’t like Yuuji, but he won’t say that out loud, so who knows?” 

“That can’t be true.” You shake your head, “They look like they get along.”

“They should, or that means freshman year had to be hell for them…” Nobara presses her lips together, “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know if he likes me…” She shrugs again, a cheeky smile building on her lips “But everyone loves me, so I doubt that.” 

“Of course, who wouldn’t love you.” You internally roll your eyes, “No, but seriously. Yuuji seems kind of cool. I just don’t understand why she would say that.” You smile to yourself, “He’s strong, has nice hair, is nice to look at, and he’s really nice. I just don’t understand why she would call him an asshole.” 

“Woah, ew. Don’t say that about my brother, that makes me want to barf.” Nobara pretends to gag, grabbing onto her stomach. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, “You guys are related?!”

“No.” She snickers to herself. 

When the two of you reach the parking lot, she reaches for her keys and unlocks her car from the short distance. Popping open the trunk with her keys, and the only thing you can see is the organized boxes filling her car to the brim. 

You quickly check over all the boxes. Eyeing over everything packed, just to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Damn, you were right about Fusiguro, these boxes are packed.” A part of you wants to pay him, but you by no means have the money. You almost didn’t have the money to pay for the boxes. 

You sit on the ledge of the trunk, picking your phone from your bag. “I swear, I’m going to get the greasiest, cheesiest, diabeaty causing pizza ever for you guys.” You turn on your phone and immediately notice the text message and missed call from your new roommate. 

Nobara cups her face, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Awh! Babe, you didn’t have to, that’s so romantic.” She wiggles her shoulders like a love-sick teenager.

You unlock your phone, checking the message. “You know I take care of my babygir—“ You blink a few times, your words dying. A horrible pit in your stomach twisting and turning uncontrollably, practically eating you alive. Your heart is dropping uncomfortably. 

Nobara notices your sudden mood change, and is quick to voice on it. “Hey, are you okay?” She looks at your hands, trying to see what could upset you. “If you want I can buy the pizza?…” 

You quickly turn off your phone, placing it face down on your lap and letting out a long sigh. You silent for a moment, your hands cupping your face as you whisper, “Shit.” You feel like crying, but you also feel like screaming in rage. 

“Wait, what happened?” 

“My—“ You groan, clearly annoyed, “Fuck, my roommate just said the room isn’t mine anymore.” You lean back on the boxes, resting your weight on it. You’re trying to form the words, but there’s so much going on in your head you don’t think you’re making sense. “She said I can’t come anymore.” 

Nobara furrows your eyebrows, “Wait, what?” She tilts her head to the sides, “What do you mean you can come anymore?”

For some reason, her question pisses you off, and you grab your phone. “Here.” Your voice is stern, clearly annoyed, “Read.” You flip the screen to her, showing the long paragraph you received from your roomma– ex-roommate. 

Nobara eyes skim over the screen, quickly trying to take in all the information before looking at you with an empathetic face. “Oh my–is this even allowed? Don’t you have to sign a contract to move in with them?” She sits down next to you, “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break the binding if you already signed the papers.” 

You feel a bit stupid about your answers, and for some odd reason that pisses you off. “I–” You sigh, leaning your head back on the boxes. “I didn’t sign anything just yet, she just said I could move in today, and we’ll fill out the papers when I’m there.”

Nobara blinks a few times, “Oh.” Is all she says. She doesn’t know exactly what to tell you, but she knows enough not to tell you how wrong you are. You’re clearly upset as it is, and she doesn’t want to add fuel to that fire. You’re already stressed as it is, so she says, “Uhm, do you want me to help you unpack?...” 

You shake your head, “No.” You can’t unpack, Nobara is quite literally having a new roommate move in within this week. “Okay, no, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out.” You have a small idea of what you can do in the meantime. 

“Figure this out?” Nobara gives you a look, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Babe, that’s something you say when you realize you have a test next class, not when you don’t have a place to stay.”

You sigh deeply, “I know.” Still, you’re trying to figure out what you can do in this situation. Your parents are out of the picture, not literally, they’re just too far, and you can’t stay with Nobara. You can try and move into a hotel, and pray your parents are willing to send you a bit more cash while you desperately try to find a new place to live. 

You nod to yourself, coming to a decision. “Okay, I think I’m just going to stay at a hotel in the meantime.” You open the safari app, and quickly search for hotels in your area. 

Nobara pulls you to your feet, shutting the trunk closed and locking her car again. “Okay, well my new roommate doesn’t come until Wednesday, so you're free to stay the night until she comes. Technically it’s still your room.” She grabs your bag, tugging you along with her as you desperately search for a place to stay. 

—

“The pizza says it’s going to be ready at five.” You think that’s a suspiciously long time for a pizza to get ready, but don’t question it too much. It just gives you more time to find a place to stay. “You can pick it up and bring it here if you want, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji blinks at you, “Are we no longer allowed at your apartment?” He sounds hurt in a way, but you’re a bit too embarrassed to tell him the truth of the situation. 

You thickly swallow, “Uh, well…” 

“Roommate kicked her off the lease.” Nobara says without batting an eye, “I told her to contact a lawyer, but we all know we’re too broke for that. Unless someone wants to pitch in some money.” She looks at you and passes a discreet wink. 

You deeply appreciate her and her ability to read your thoughts.

Megumi shakes his head, “I can call my Da–” He pauses, clearing his throat, “I can call Gojo and ask for some money.” He looks away, averting his attention at a wall. It could be the bad lighting, but it looks as if his ears are red. 

You have to reign in what Megumi just said, but you aren’t given the time when Nobara jumps into the conversation. “No. She doesn’t like Gojo, can’t imagine how she’d feel if she borrowed money from him.” 

Megumi looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t like Gojo?”

“Uh…” You give him an awkward smile, scratching your cheek lightly. “Not really…?”

Megumi nods, his lips pulling into a subtle upside down smile. It looks almost approving, “Me neither.” You didn't know you could end up liking someone with just a simple phrase, but here we are. 

Yuuji pulls on your sleeve, drawing your attention back to him. “So, what are you going to do?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, as if he were in the same boat as you.  

You pass him a somber smile. “I don’t know, I think I’m just going to crash at some random hotel in the meantime.” You shrug, trying to brush off the topic, but the pit in your stomach doesn’t go away. “Hope for the best, you know?” 

Yuuji practically lights up at that news, he quickly grabs your hands and tugs you into him. “Wait! Does that mean you’re homeless now?!” He seems excited about that, and you wonder if Maki was right about him being an asshole. 

You awkwardly laugh, your smiling faltering, “Uhm, yeah?…” You blink a few times, looking at your hands, then looking back at his face. You quickly pass Megumi and Nobara a worried face, as if you’re trying to say, please help me.

“Do you want to live with me?!” 

No. 

Your lips part, a small noise escaping your throat, but no real words really leaving. Yuuji is pretty fun to be around, but you don’t think moving in with someone you just met is a good idea. Besides, what if the hotel is a better option than the random house he’s offering you to live in. You don’t know how tidy… or dirty his house is, and you can’t just go to his house, scope out the area and be like, ‘Actually, I think I’m going to pass.’ 

It’s rude and puts you in a really awkward situation, a situation you really don’t want to put yourself in. Then again, you really don’t have the money to stay in a hotel, anything you could possibly have in your bank account will be drained, quickly. 

You don’t have the money, or the mindset to drain your bank account. In fact, if the number ‘ZERO’ hits your bank account, your life would’ve been long done awhile ago. There’s no way you’re living to see your personal downfall. 

You press your lips together in thought, “Uh?..” You look at Nobara, and she doesn’t seem to know what to say either. “Are you okay with that?—How much are you going to be charging me?” You have to ask the real question, then you can worry about being a good person and asking about Yuuji’s feelings. 

“Hm?” He blinks a few times, then quickly looks at Megumi, “I didn’t charge my ex when she lived with me. How much do you normally charge your roommates?” It seems like a genuine question, and Maki barks at the back of your head, ‘I told you!’

You softly pull your hands away from Yuuji, blinking at him in confusion. “Wait, do you not pay for your apartment?” You tilt your head at him, blinking in confusion. 

“I don’t.” He places his hand on the back of his head, looking at Megumi with something you can’t quite decipher. “My–” He pauses, making a face at Megumi, “My roommate does.” His eyes perk at that, almost as if it were a revelation. “That’s right, I have a roommate.” 

“So, I’ll be living with two guys?” Your eyes bounce back from Yuuji and Megumi, you can’t say excitement is what you’re feeling right now. No, it’s more desperation and dejection. 

“Mhm!” He pulls you close to his side, and you’re now starting to realize how touchy Yuuji is, but you don’t really mind. “It won’t be that bad, you’ll have your own room and there’s a kitchen.” He looks around the small dorm, “Which I think is already much better than the dorms…” 

You don’t… know. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you, and I don’t know if I’m going to have enough money..” 

Yuuji shakes his head, “You can just stay for a month or two, just until you can find your own place.” He places his head on your shoulder, giving you some of the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “And I won’t even charge you.”

“Deal.” Not even a second thought. 

A smile splits your face, excitement blooming in your chest. A free place to live, your own room, and a kitchen? Maybe you could be in danger by living with two men you just met today, but it’s only for a month or two. Free housing is free housing. 

Yuuji jumps up, clearly happy by the thought of living with you. “Hooray! Let’s go!” Yuuji grabs your hand again, pulling you harshly behind him. “I’ll help you unpack and everything.” 

You feel a small blush dust your cheeks, definitely a big puppy. It’s really cute. 

—

Yuuji’s house is so nice. 

Your eyes are sparkling at the sight, the living room, the kitchen, your bathroom, and your bedroom. Everything is decorated so nicely and smells like heaven, as if someone has just cleaned the room. 

You turn to Yuuji, hands holding each other, “Oh my gosh, your place is amazing! This is so nice!” You move to the couch, sitting down on it, practically melting into the seats. “This is heaven Yuuji, absolute heaven.” 

Yuuji wobbles over to you, flopping over your thighs and stretching over the couch. He’s a bit sweaty from moving all your boxes to your room, and clearly exhausted, but you don’t at all mind. You still move your hands to his head and run your fingers through his pink tufts. 

“You did such a good job, Yuuji!” You practically beaming in your seat, smiling with a bit too much enthusiasm. ”You installed that lock on my door too, right?” You push his hair out of his face when he twists his head to try and look at you. 

Yuuji nods tiredly, moaning out an exhausted, “Mhm.” 

“Awh! Thank you so much, that means so much to me!” You look to the side, watching as Nobara appears from the hall and passes you a thumbs up. A small confirmation of Yuuji’s words. “If you want, you can go grab the pizza now, I’m pretty sure it’ll be ready by now.” 

Yuuji springs out of your lap, energy regained at the thought of food. “Pizza!” He is quick to grab Nobara, pulling her out the door and singing, “Pizza, pizza, pizza, chow-down!” You think it’s adorable. 

Megumi walks out of the hall, looking at Yuuji, then looking back at you. He’s silent for a moment, before softly asking, “Do you want me to stay?” 

You’re a bit shocked by his question, “Uhm..?” To be completely honest with yourself, it would be nice to have the house to yourself for a moment. That way you can try and get a hold of the layout without the judging eyes of your new friends. You’ve also been dying to take a shower in a room without anyone else showering. So, you shake your head politely, “No thank you, it’s okay. I need a moment to myself.” 

Megumi furrows his eyebrows ever so slightly, tilting his head, “Are you sure?” He looks at the hallway, then back to you, “I can stay, it won’t bother me.” He shrugs, but his voice has a hint of care to it, as if he’s trying to put his words in the most friendly way possible. 

You shake your head again, “It’s okay, I’m just going to shower.” Your eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, actually, I have a question.” You push yourself off the couch, moving to stand at the entrance of the hallway. Megumi moves after you. “Which room is which.”

Megumi points at the closet door on the right, “That’s your restroom.” He points at the door at the end of the hallway to the left, “Across from your restroom is your room.” He looks back at you, nodding to see if you understood the information. 

You flash him a smile and nod back, “Perfect, thanks for showing me.” 

Megumi nods, turning on his heel and waving you off. Nobara at the door frame, waiting for him to catch up. She cups her mouth, “We’ll be back in a few, get unpacked in the meantime.” She blows you a kiss and closes the door behind her. 

You roll your eyes and move to your room, pushing open the door and really observing the place. If you can recall correctly, this room once belonged to Yuuji’s ex-girlfriend, which is a bit obvious. There’s a hint of a feminine touch to the furniture and leftover decorations. The window is one of the biggest indicators to such, the curtains being a bit flowy and soft.

The bed is another big indicator. The mattress has been stripped of anything that seems comforting, but the bed frame holds some form of cute touch. It’s white with silver jewels bedding into the leather, creating a patterned ridge. 

The floor is bare, but you don’t mind, you made sure to tell Nobara to pack your pink fluffy rug. However, it has small specks of nail polish. The drawers match the bed quite well, all being white. The desk–or vanity–is something you don’t understand why it would be left behind. It’s gorgeous. There’s even a mirror strapped to the wall a bit above it, a button in the bottom middle to turn on its LED lights. 

You nod to yourself, not bad. 

Sometimes, life is all about risk, and you clearly struck gold with this leap of faith. A cute room, a nice house, and you don’t have to pay rent yet? Could life get any better? 

You squeal to yourself, moving to your boxes and opening the one with your skin care products, hair cleaning products, face cleaning products, shaving products… Honestly, everything you couldn’t use back in the dorms. You’re about to finally care for your skin, mind, and body. 

You're quick to grab your sleeping garments, but find it a bit hard to hold everything so you grab your towel and throw all your things inside, then grab the corners and pull them up. Making a make-shift sack and throwing it over your shoulder. 

Life can indeed, get better. 

Especially when you can take a shower alone. 

You’re giddy making your way to the bathroom, opening the door and closing it behind you. You’re picking your favorite at home, or headphone only playlist, and blasting it on speaker. Picking out from the many girly shampoo scents and propping them in the shower as you swing your hips to the beat of the music. 

You catch a glimpse of the shampoos already in the shower. They’re a bit… They look exotic to put it simply. A brand you’ve never seen before, in fact, the amount of body care looks a bit larger than your own. You feel a bit embarrassed placing your Bath and Body Works body scrub, but they smell so good. 

Even now, your sore bare body underneath the steaming hot water, you’re no longer embarrassed. Your tense muscles relax underneath the jets of the water. Just enjoying your sweet sweet life living in a real house and not a small dorm. You raise your face to the water, rubbing out your face wash, “Fuck, I needed this.”

You flinch when the sound of louder music plays over your own, your eyes snap to the door. You push your hair out of your face and softly sigh. Looks like your friends are back already, and as much as you want to stay in the warm shower, you’re really hungry.

You turn off the water and reach for your pink towel, wrapping it around your body and placing the rest of your face care products on the counter of the sink. It’s a bit of a shame, music you’re unfamiliar with drowning out your favorite–private–playlist. 

You eye the room again, only to furrow your eyebrows. Wait… You feel a bit of dread enter your body, looking around the room with a bit more conviction. 

Oh no, oh no no no no no…

Where are your clothes?! You could’ve sworn you put them in your makeshift sack with everything else–wait, you internally groan, no you didn’t. You placed everything back on your bed and forgot to put it back in your towel. Whatever, it’s fine you’ll just quickly run to your room and grab some clothes, then join your friends for food. 

You grab your phone and reach for the door, peeling it open and peaking your head out. But, you are a bit disappointed at the lack of pizza filling the air, and laughter. The only thing getting louder is the music.

“Hm.” You blink a few times and stand on the tips of your toes, the cold floor sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine as you step onto cold tiles. Megumi’s words echo in your head, ‘The room across the restroom.’ So, as you walk forward and put your hand on the dorm knob, you feel a bit of panic resonate with you as it doesn't open. 

“Shit, did I lock it?” You cringe at yourself. Oh my god, that’s a horrible way to start off living with Yuuji. Getting locked out of your room, naked. For some reason, that thought makes you shake the door knob with more desperation. 

You tug your hand back when the door knob… jiggles back! Have the door knobs evolved?! 

You flinch when the lights of the room flashes on you, the door slamming open. 

Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping subtly. 

The tall man looks you up and down, his forearm pressing against the frame of the door. His face is one that can only be described as disgust and disdain. In fact, he’s so fucking tall, he is quite literally looking down at you. 

You feel so small. 

And, he’s completely shirtless, yet his arms are decorated in a tattoo that seems to stretch from his arms to his torso, chest, then to his face. The only thing giving him some form of modesty being the gray sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips. You can see his v-line and the veins that lead to his…

You snap your eyes back to his face, feeling your burn up, when your eyebrows furrow. The interesting color of his hair is pulling your attention.

Wait a minute…

You narrow your eyes, taking a step back in shock. Another puddle of water pulling to the ground with each step, the bangs that frame your face sprinkling your shoulders with water droplets. 

No way, no way.

An unsure noise leaves your throat, a mix between a whimper and soft cry. “Uh… Y-Yuuji…?” You tighten your hand around your towel, and that realization hits you like a fucking bus. You’re naked. You’re wearing nothing but a towel in front of Yuuji, and he looks absolutely disgusted by you. 

But…You know it’s not Yuuji, it can’t be. Yuuji is a massive puppy, expressive and vibrant, naturally pulling everyone into his circle. He would never even think to look at someone the way this man is looking at you. He's touchy and a bit oblivious, but that’s part of his charm! The Yuuji in front of you is…?

His hair is a bit different, less saturated and messy. His dark natural roots peeking out from his undercut, and he looks… older. In fact, he even looks older than you. His tattoos stretch from his neck, to his face, sharp and crisp lines. 

His eyebrows are pulled together in a glare, a nasty glare, a small wrinkle forming at the side of his nose in disgust. His head is ever so slightly tilted to the side. 

Your eyebrows twitch together, and you find the situation ironic. In fact, you almost want to laugh. Out of all the nice things God had given you today, he wanted to sprinkle in one more surprise. 

This man looks like a…

The man takes a step forward, the music in his room blasting even louder. He was close, way too close. If he wasn’t scary before, now that you have to crane your neck back to look at him, he’s terrifying. He narrows his red eyes at you, letting out a harsh, “What the fuck do you want.” His voice is raspy and deep, clouding anyone he would talk to. 

You blink at his language and rudeness, shocked by his attitude. You part of your lips, they feel a bit glossy from the water, but…a scoffing laugh leaves your lips. 

He looks like an asshole. He’s an asshole. You cover your mouth with your hand, and turn away. A hot asshole. The hot asshole from earlier today. It really is a small world. However, your humor to the events is short lived. You’re quickly reminded of what situation you're in, naked in front of a hot asshole. 

The furrow in his eyebrows deepens. 

“You look like Yuuji.” It’s a silent whisper, one that receives no reaction to the stranger in front of you. He doesn’t even take a step away from you, he’s still too close for your comfort. 

Oh my god. There are two Yuuji’s. Then, light a light bulb, another realization hits you. Oh my god, I’m going to be living with two Yuuji’s. But, you quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another sound.

“Who’s there?” A voice perks from the music, it sounds feminine, and a bit too scratchy for your liking. In a way, it sounds hoarse, or strained. “Is it your brother, I’ve always wanted to meet your brother!” She squeals excitedly, “Let me see him, please!”

Brother? You mimic your thoughts with words, “B-Brother?” You dumbly ask, desperately trying to connect the dots in your head. Wait, you thought Megumi was the one who lived with Yuuji, that’s why the two of them made eye contact back at your old dorm. 

Did you completely misread the situation? You cup your mouth in shock. Megumi isn’t Yuuji’s roommate, his older brother is. The hot older brother who happens to be the asshole from earlier, and now. 

Oh my god. I’m so stupid. 

A blonde woman comes barreling from within the room to the door frame, she’s wearing nothing but a black shirt too big for her. The moment she lays her eyes on your bare frame, her smile twists into something deeply uncomfortable. 

You swear, you can hear the water droplets from your hair hitting the ground from how quiet the three of you are. This is such an unforgettable situation. You pull your hand away from your mouth, passing the women a small smile and a wave. 

She doesn’t wave back. She looks at the man, but he’s not looking at her, his eyes are trained on you. Caught by the way your chest is glistening from the light of his room and the water from the shower, your neck bare and fresh. How your shoulder rises and falls with each soft breath you take, your hair sticking to your face and shoulders. He can smell the sweet scent of your body wash from here. It smells nice.

You smell nice.

Your eyes are something else, though. They’re practically sparkling from the little light emulated from his room, catching every reflection and giving them life. They’re wide and full of shock, you’re most likely trying to process who he is. That idiot Yuuji most likely didn’t even tell you he had a brother. 

You thickly swallow, your throat bobbing ever so slightly. 

He smirks to himself. You’re not too bad looking. 

“Who is she?” The blonde asks with a bit of force, trying to pull his attention away from you. However, despite her question, and her hands moving to grab his arm, he still isn’t looking at her, he’s quiet, way too quiet for your liking. 

He finally shrugs, discreetly pulling his arm away from her hold. “Don’t know. Who cares.” He finally pulls away from your frame, looking at the woman, “Probably one of my brother’s annoyin’ ass friends.” 

She tilts her head to the side, “Oh.” She lets out a small laugh, but it seems more mocking than anything. “Thank god, I thought it was one of your crazy exes trying to get back with you.” She glares at you, “Such a pathetic attempt to use, too.” 

He takes one final look at you, “Yeah.” He looks at the girl, pushing her to the side as he walks back into his room. “Just like you.” He scoffs to himself, turning over his shoulder and whispering at her, “Crazy bitch.” 

She pouts, turning on her heel so her blonde said flips behind her, “Awh! Don’t say that Suki! You know you love me.” She passes you a final satiated glance, “Here, let me make it up to you. Tell me about your tattoos or something!” 

Sukuna’s quick to respond with a pinched expression, “Shut the fuck up. Stop acting like you're my girlfriend.” Then, she slams the door on your face, and you flinch from the intrusion. 

You cringe a bit, not at all liking how addressed a girl as a ‘bitch.’ If something could make you turn your head in disgust in less then a second, it’s called a girl a bitch. Except when you do it.

You glare at the door, “Bitch.” You think back to the man she addressed as Suki and add, “Asshole.” You look at the door to the right, and make your way there, twisting it and sighing in relief when it opens. 

You laugh at yourself, “Thank god..” The first thing you do isn’t change, but open one of your boxes and grab your stationary. Placing them on the vanity. You're quick to grab a quickly sticky note, scribble your name on it, and slam it on the outside of your door. 

No more accidents, and no more random hot, older brother, asshole man. 

—-

Nobara is peacefully sleeping on the couch, bundling herself in more blankets than one person needs. Her chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic order, you can even hear her softly snoring. The day had been draining, not only for you, but also for her, so you weren’t going to pester her to stay up and watch the crappy horror movie Yuuji picked out.

Megumi is sitting across from her on his phone. His long lashes flutter with each gentle blink he takes. He, unlike everyone in the room, seems a bit more tense. Narrowing his eyes when something unfavorable happens on screen–like a jumpscare–then quickly follows it by doing whatever on his phone. 

You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually really scared of the movie playing, but that’s just a hunch. 

You’re sitting next to Yuuji on the floor, actually–no, Yuuji is laying on you. While you run your hands through his pink tufts, your body is watching the movie playing, but your mind is somewhere else. Not somewhere else, on someone else. 

Yuuji opens his mouth, softly humming, “Ah.” 

You reach over his head, grabbing his pizza slice and lowering it to his mouth, allowing him to take a bite. He does, and you return it to the plate on the coffee table. Grabbing your drink and taking a sip. 

“You have a brother?” 

Your question is so quiet, it doesn’t even disturb the peace. The movie is still playing, Nobara is still sleeping, Megumi is still on his phone, and Yuuji is still laying on your lap. He looks away from the screen, his eyes boring into the bottom of your cup. 

“Yeah.” Yuuji gives you a halfhearted smile, he’s clearly uncomfortable by the topic. “He’s my older brother, I think he’s graduating next year.” He looks at the TV, then back at you, you notice how he’s holding his breath. “Did he…? Did he say something to you?” The question seems unsure. 

You shake your head, “I saw him leave his room when I finished showering.” You pass him a comforting laugh, hand running through his hair. “I thought he was you for a second, until I looked a bit closer.” You wish that was the end of it. 

Yuuji lets out a breath, nodding his head. “Good. He can be…” He sighs, looking back at the TV, “You know what, forget about it. He just sucks, so stay out of his way.” He pulls himself up, “Just stay with me, and you’ll be fine.” 

You think for a moment, wondering if you should ask Yuuji the question bubbling in your head, but ultimately decide to force it out. “Do you… not like your brother?” You ask him, sneaking a blanket from Nobara and wrapping it around your shoulders. Your hair is still a bit damp, wetting the blanket. 

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Does anyone like their siblings?” He leans on the couch, propping his arm up and using his hand to hold his head. “We’re just like everyone else, just a bit more… bleh.” Yuuji sticks out his tongue, and you softly laugh. 

“Gross.” You mutter, wrinkling your nose. “But, I get that. I think you’re the nicer one.” You look to the side, thinking for a moment, “Actually, wait, I think you look the nicest.” 

Yuuji laughs, “Thanks.” 

You look at Megumi, “I thought he was your roommate.” You press your lips together, “I thought I was going to be living with you two. I didn’t think it was going to be you… you know.” 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry?” Yuuji slaps his hand over his mouth, “I totally forgot too—shit, I thought you knew…” He thinks for a moment, remembering how the two of you quite literally met today. “I—I don't know… how though. Shit, that’s so shitty of me.” 

You shake your head, “No, no. It’s okay, I should’ve asked more questions, as a roommate and as a girl. This was kinda’ my own doing for assuming things.” You laugh to yourself, “I also got swept up in the whole free housing thing.”

Yuuji laughs with you, “I would, too. That's why I agreed to move in with my brother, actually.” He rolls his eyes, “A free place to stay, is a free place to stay. Even if I have to deal with an asshole.” 

“I got that vibe from him.” You reach over to his shirt, fixing his collar to fix his neck more comfortably. “But I can’t say that to his brother.” 

Yuuji silently thanks you, before shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I could care less what you say about him. To be honest, I don’t even talk to him anymore.” He shrugs, “My room is too far away from his to really hear if he’s doing anything, too.” He laughs, “He could secretly be a murder, and I wouldn’t know.” 

You giggle, your hands moving to rest on his shoulder. You take this time to lean forward and softly kiss his head, “Thank you for letting me crash with you for a while, I really didn’t want to stay at a shady hotel.” You smile at him when pulling back, “Totally saved my ass.” 

Yuuji shakes his head, waving you off. “Stop. Don't even start. I’d do anything for my new best friend.” He loudly yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “But, I’m getting tired, I think I’m going to crash.” He pushes himself off the floor, searching for the remote and turning off the TV. 

Nobara is quick to get up, one of her eyes still shut as she awkwardly says, “H-Huh, what?...” She frantically looks around, “I’ve been up.” She is quick to crash down into the pillow again, gaining a small laugh from everyone in the room. 

Megumi shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch. “I’ll take her home.” He glances at you, “Go to bed, I know you still have to set your bed up.” 

Sure, you’ve spoken to Yuuji the most this entire day, and spoken to Megumi the least, but he is genuinely your favorite out of the bunch. You pass him a quick smile, but it’s strained and full of exhaustion. “Thanks.”

Megumi just nods over his shoulder, searching for Nobara’s keys. Then, pauses, looking back at you, “Also, just a word for advice, Itadori’s brother…” He starts, “His ex would always complain about him… being really anxious at night, so just wear some headphones or… go to sleep early.”

You giggle, “I’m sure I can handle a bit of music at night.” You point at Nobara, “She used to play the weirdest shit late at night.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t think…” Megumi stops himself, “I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” But, his tone, the unsure expression he’s passing you, you can’t help but think… 

Obnoxious how?

—-

Honestly, the day could’ve been better. Way better, but it could’ve been worse, way worse. Still, you appreciate how the day has ended. Your sheets laid out and covering the mattress, your blankets and stuffies decorating your bed to make you more comfortable in your new surroundings. 

You’ve taken some time to put mostly everything in its respective place. Like the fluffy carpet, and small coffee table in the middle of the room, since you prefer to do your homework sitting on the ground. And the pictures and posters you have of friends, family, shows, and celebrities. 

The room was starting to slowly look more like home. 

You blink a few times, pressing your glasses to the bridge of your nose—something you don’t wear outside the comfort of your room—and focus on the small text in the booklet Gojo had given you. 

You can confidently say you understand what the project is asking of you, but there’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, you don’t even know where to start. You feel overwhelmed. Not only that, but finals are creeping up way too fast for your liking. 

“This is a problem for tomorrow, or… today? Whatever. It’s too late.” You whisper to yourself, shutting the booklet and leaning back on the palms of your hands. Looking at the ceiling with a blank expression. You’re tired–exhausted, it’s past twelve and starting to hit the single digits of the AM. 

You still have to catch up on all your other missing assignments due to your sudden leave. You close your eyes, pushing yourself off the ground and stretching. There only seems to be one solution to your problems. 

You reach for your computer, propping it onto your table and pulling up the show BoJack Horseman, clicking onto the first episode while scrambling around for your backpack. 

Time to pull an all-nighter.

You can still hear the music from Yuuji’s brother's room, it’s a bit quieter, but you still add a bit of volume to your computer, trying to drown out the noise. And, it’s nice for the first hour, maybe even the first hour and a half, your writing progressively getting more fit with each assignment you finish. Your eyes are feeling heavier, and BoJack’s life choices are getting dumber. 

You feel like you can fall asleep sitting up, but you jump at a small bump. Your ears perk up to the sound of… something you can’t quite put your finger on. Actually, the best way you can describe it, is if it were late at night and you stubbed your toe, yet you were desperately trying to stay quiet.

Hm. In your mind, that seems pretty spot on, yet… you’ve heard this particular nose before. It sounds familiar, really familiar. Maybe from a late-night movie, or a sound from a—

“Ah! O-Oh my god, p-please—please.” A pleasurable cry. 

It’s silent again, the sound of BoJack Horseman death to your ears. 

A shiver shoots up your spine, forcing your body to shoot itself up. Your eyes widening while your face begins to burn with embarrassment. A small whimper leaves your throat, another shiver shooting down your body, it feels electrifying. It feels dirty. 

There’s no fucking way. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Today isn’t real. You feel your face flush, ever so slightly turning your head over your shoulder to look at the wall behind you. “It’s probably just a movie..” You tell yourself. “They’re watching a weird movie.”

A gruff voice barks back, “Move your fuckin’ hand and take it.” She cries again, but it’s a bit more muffled compared to her last cry. “Or I’ll move it.” He sounds a bit pained, almost gritted when said, before a small mocking–yet, approving–laugh follows. “Yeah, you can take this dick, can’t you?”

This time, something deep within your blooms in your stomach. A fluttery, almost tingly sensation building deep in you. You feel your finger twitch, blinking at the wall, your freshly decorated bed catching your attention. 

Of course your bed is pressed right against his wall, and of course the walls are paper thin. 

Your ears perk again at the sound of a forced squeal, a scream of, “K-Kuna’.. W-wait, it feels..” But, her sentence is cut off by another moan, this time more deep and tired. What follows, makes your hips twitch. 

“Fucking amazin’? I know.” He groans under his breath, a cocky laugh leaving his mouth, “C’mon, use that dumb cunt of yours to fuck yourself on my cock.” A small bump lands on your wall, much like the sound of a head falling back on it. “Yeah, fuck. Just like that.” 

His words are filthy, and drive you a bit crazy. Your mind is clouding with ideas of… him. Kuna, Suki, that’s what she said, those are the two things she called him. Is that his name, Yuuji’s older brother? Are those her nicknames for him? 

Kuna? 

Suki?  

You hate that, you want to scold yourself over fantasizing over a stranger. You’re not fantasizing, you’re just trying to piece together what could be happening on the other side of the wall. How he looks when flushed, half-lidded and body surging with pleasure as he fucks. The noises he’s producing when spending special attention on his sensitive tip. How filthy words leave his mouth with a cocky smile, no care in the world as he tries to embarrass you–

You gasp. No, you didn’t just think that. You didn’t think about Yuuji’s older brother, a stranger, a asshole, fucking you. That’s impossible, you’re not a fiend, you’re not a pervert, and you're not thinking about how hot he looked standing over you. Looking down at you with a scowl as you suck his cock. 

Your throat bobs, your mouth salivating. The image of his veins, his happy trail, his v-line, leading down to the print in his sweatpants. You bite onto your bottom lip, lightly slightly sucking onto the skin until it’s a bit swollen. 

You mush your thighs together, turning back to the table. Closing your eyes and trying not to think about… no, you’re just trying not to think altogether. Trying to ignore how your body is burning, your panties sticking to your throbbing pussy.

“Get off–” The sentence seems a bit more quiet than before, the whole sentence not translating well to your ears. You’re thankful for that, is what your head is screaming, but your body is desperately itching to hear every dirty word he says. 

“Hands… knees.” His voice sounds strained, but still collected. 

You flinch when something bangs against the wall. It’s thankfully not hitting your wall, but it sounds incredibly close. Wait, is that?... Is he…? Is that the headboard hitting the wall? The bed lurching forward with each of his harsh thrust. 

This time, it’s far too clear for your mind to ignore her quiet sobbing, yet she mumbles small encouragement for Yuuji’s older brother to, “H-hit that.. s-spot.” Babbling profanities you weren’t previously aware of, to scream obnoxiously in your face about how good she feels. 

Then, the banging stops. A more human bump hitting the wall, followed by, “That shit’s getting on my nerves.” 

“Use a pillow, you don’t need to hold it–ah!” 

This time, you don’t hear the headboard of his bed hitting the wall. You only hear the creaking of the mattress hissing uncomfortably under the weight of two people. You wonder what he did exactly to prevent the noise. 

Press his hands above his head board onto the wall, then continue to fuck her senseless. Or, does he only have one hand pressed against the wall, only grabbing onto the top of the headboard and using it to add more strength behind each stroke. Sending the annoying girl deeper into her spiral of pleasure. 

You feel your eyes water ever so slightly… and–you may be perverse, or a dirty girl. But, you don’t care, you really don’t fucking care. Especially not when your pussy is desperate for some harsh attention, a big mean man to fuck you senseless. To spread you open and toy with your sensitive and drooling cunt. 

You… you wish that girl is you. You wish you are her. Crying over a cock that makes you feel so good, you don’t care if anyone is listening. You wouldn’t care if he was forcing you to take it to quick or hard, his hands grabbing your hips and forcing you to fuck his cock with your overstimulated pussy. 

No, stop, I have shit to do. You don’t have the time to be stupid over boys. “Where are my headphones?” You need to do work, you need to have conviction and discipline. The moment you wake up tomorrow, remembering all the things you thought about the previous night, you’re going to jump off a cliff. 

You just need some clarity, some sleep. That’s all it is, you’re exhausted, and the idea of… No, don’t even start. You softly sing the opening tune of BoJack Horseman to yourself. It may be stupid, but it keeps you concentrated on the task at hand.

You need to do homework, you are too far behind to get distracted. Even now, while desperately looking for your headphone–it’s in one of these boxes, it has to be–you’re ignoring the noises from the other room. Did you lose them? Did you really lose them the one time you actually need them? 

Fine. 

You’ll wake up early tomorrow, find your headphones, and finish your assignments. You scramble for your lights, flicking them off and diving into your bed. Your computer is still open, Netflix asking the annoying, ‘Are you still there?’ But, you’re not paying attention. 

Your eyes are shut, a pillow wrapped around your head while you’re slowly growing more annoyed. It’s so obnoxious, vulgar, rude… You don’t even know how to describe the situation Yuuji’s older brother is putting you in. 

It’s dick move. 

Wouldn’t it be common courtesy to try and be quiet. It’s such an awkward situation for you, such a weird situation to be in. It’s infuriating. A part of you wants to loudly knock on the wall and scream at them, but the other part of you wants to give Yuuji’s older brother the benefit of the doubt. 

He’s probably just unaware. 

You’ll tell ‘Kuna–hopefully his name is ‘Kuna, you really don’t know–tomorrow when you run into him. Or, tell him to be a bit more reserved, or ashamed, of what he’s doing, and how hard it is to focus on work when people are obnoxiously fucking in the room right next to you. 

Besides, you genuinely can’t stand the idea of dealing with that every single night while trying to do your work. It sounds like a pain, a hassle that will never let you sleep or study undisturbed. That’s too weird, that’s too annoying. 

But, you know the real reason. 

It’s why you’re desperately rubbing your thighs together. While trying to force yourself to sleep. 

Next Chapter: Ch. 2 - Sexual Tension.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

14: CRICKET & BUCKY

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST

Bucky plans your first date, but it doesn't quite go according to plan.

Word count 5.2k

Warnings: first dates, explicit sexual content, Bucky Barnes ... still a warning

It was strange, waking up in a room far away from everyone you knew and loved. It's not that you lived that far from your friends, it's just that it felt like a chasm. But this had been your choice. May made you feel very welcome at the Academy and you got to work with kids who had powers from a young age, helping them to understand their physiology and giving them the opportunity to explore what they were capable of in a controlled environment. Needless to say, you loved it.

Bucky had been very attentive to you, bringing you food and keeping you company, driving you to your physical therapy. You had gotten the impression from Sam that he refused every mission that Tony and Steve asked him to take part in. The other Avengers all visited but they had their own lives and work to attend to, but you saw Bucky every day. As you regained your strength, he accompanied you on your daily walks to maintain some baseline level of fitness. Sometimes you were bold enough to hold his hand while you walked. And he would always leave you with such intimate kisses. To your frustration, they never seemed to progress to anything more than a goodbye and you were beginning to wonder if he would ever want anything more.

One day, the two of you were hanging out in the middle of the day, watching a movie, cuddling on your couch. You'd recovered well and been assessed by the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical teams and deemed fit for any duty you wished to carry out.

Even though you'd been cleared and gone back to work, Bucky insisted on helping you out with everything and frankly, it was grating on your nerves. You were certainly not made of glass and he was treating you like you might break at any second. Luckily for you, Steve was ever the loyal friend, even if he had no idea what he was doing. He descended on your new abode demanding Bucky's participation on a mission which clearly would benefit from his expertise.

“Come on, Bucky. This is important.”

“Then you do it,” Bucky replied sullenly. “I’m staying here with Cricket.”

“Oh for crying out loud, Buck!” you exploded. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Bucky and Steve froze with surprise, both their blue eyes wide and staring at you.

“Just go!” you pointed your hand at the door. “Help Steve.”

A flash of uncertainty and hurt flickered across his face. It disappeared so fast that you wondered if you had imagined it. Bucky shuffled forward to the edge of the couch seat from his place beside you. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Bucky.”

“You want me to go?” he asked, quietly, avoiding your gaze.

“Bucky… I want… I need you to understand what I’m not… going to break. I’m okay, Buck.” You sat forwards too and put your hand to his face. “Thank you for taking care of me, but I don’t need that now.”

“You’ve always been the one to take care of me, I just…”

“And I love you for that, Buck. But you need to go, do the things you need to do. Help your friends, your teammates. They need you more than I do right now.”

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Bucky asked, a playful smirk on his face as he leaned in closer to you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach at his proximity. You moved off the couch and slid into Bucky’s lap, your face barely an inch from his. "No, I just think you should go with Steve to work today."

Bucky pouted, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I'd much rather spend the day with you, darling."

You couldn't help but blush at his words. Bucky had been your best friend for such a long time now but for the first time since you’d confessed your feelings there was a tension in the air, a feeling that something more was brewing beneath the surface.

You cleared your throat, looking over at Steve and trying to push down the butterflies in your stomach. "We both know that it’s time for you to go back to work."

It was cute how uncomfortable it was for Steve, being present for this conversation between you, seeing Bucky flirting so shamelessly with you.

Bucky's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, his charm back in full force. "Of course, Cricket.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. "I think it's best if you go with Steve."

Bucky sighed dramatically, but he finally relented. "Fine, fine. I'll go with Steve. But only because you asked so nicely. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

“You promise?”

Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Promise."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "I'll be waiting for you."

“When I’m back, maybe I could take you out on a date? A real date?”

Your face broke out in a huge smile. “I’d like that.”

As Bucky leaned in to kiss you goodbye, the world seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, and his touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he never wanted to let you go. The kiss wasn’t just a sweet chaste peck on the lips, no, it was deep and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building between the two of you for what felt like an eternity. It was as if all the unspoken words and hidden desires were finally being released in that one moment of connection. And then all of a sudden he was gone, as though looking at you would somehow stop him from leaving. You waved at a grinning Steve who followed Bucky down the corridor. Who knew that all it took for things to move forwards was to get Bucky to leave?

The second you closed the door behind them, everything felt quiet, too quiet. Your space which had felt slightly cramped when Bucky was with you suddenly felt empty and cold without his comforting presence. You retreated to the comfort of your couch, wrapping the throw blanket you had been sharing with Bucky around you, breathing in his scent, the traces of his cologne clung to the soft material. Picking up your phone, you sent him a text.

>>>> Miss you already. Come home soon. xx

His response was almost instantaneous, as though he was holding his phone when you sent the message.

Bucky << Miss you too. Make sure you’re ready for our date when I get back. It’s going to be as special as you. Love you. xx

>>>> Love you too, Bucky.

*

Bucky texted you every chance he got. He had even tried a video chat, only to have Steve snatch his phone away. You caught the Captain glaring at his friend before giving you an apologetic glance and cutting the call. He apologized with his own message to you later, as had Bucky, calling Steve a few impolite names. As the day of Bucky’s return came closer, he messaged you with a time and date for you to prepare for.

When the day finally arrived, you were a nervous wreck. You called Nat and Wanda, desperately begging for their help in choosing your attire. It didn’t help that they spent two hours bickering over what pair of heels would make you look the sexiest. It was only when you took a swig of wine directly from the bottle, did they take their leave, along with access to the liquor. You spent the next two hours alone waiting for Bucky to arrive. He texted you the moment they landed the quinjet and the progress he was making towards making it to your date.

Bucky >> Just landed, Cricket.

Bucky >> Heading to the shower. Don’t want to turn up without. You wouldn’t like it.

Bucky >> Sam says I should wear a jacket, I’m not sure it fits.

Bucky >> Steve agrees. Jacket is a must. I hope you like it.

Bucky >> Tony said if I drive my bike, he will have Friday lockdown the garage.

>>>> Probably best you didn’t, not sure I’ll be able to get on the bike in what I’m wearing.

Bucky >> What’re you wearing?

>>>> Come over and see for yourself.

Bucky >> Soon darling. Nat’s making me change, she says you’ll like this more.

Bucky >> On my way!

You dropped your phone running to the mirror to touch up your makeup and check your hair. It wouldn’t take Bucky long to drive to your apartment. You had been looking forward to this night for a while now and you knew that you and Bucky would have an amazing time. You slipped out of your robe and into the flared dress that Wanda and Nat had settled on. It fitted you like a glove, highlighting all the right curves. The perfect date night ensemble!

You jumped at a knock on the door. As you went to answer the door, you found yourself in a state of butterflies. You hadn't seen him since he left for the mission and every fiber of your being was eager to reunite with him. He was going to take you out and you decided to look your best. And when you opened the door you were blown away by what you saw on the other side. Bucky was standing there in his finest, looking like the hottest guy you had ever seen; dark jeans, a slim fit black shirt with white dots and his favorite leather jacket. You made a mental note to thank Nat for his wardrobe choices.

“Hi,” you greeted him, breathlessly.

“Hey…” He grinned, taking in your appearance, how beautiful you looked. "Ready?”

You blushed under his gaze, accepting the pink rose and lily bouquet he held out to you, swooning over his old fashioned ways. “Thank you, they’re gorgeous.”

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Have you always been so charming?”

“Yeah, you just never noticed.” As he spoke, Bucky moved closer and closer towards you. He was only inches away from your face, when he asked, “Ready?”

His body was pressed against yours, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Bucky kissed you deeply, his mouth soft yet full, his hands sliding down to wrap around your waist. The taste of his lips was like sweet nectar, intoxicating and addictive. You found yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the sensation of being wanted and loved. As the kiss continued, neither of you wanted it to end. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment where time stood still and all that mattered was the love that you shared. Bucky held you close, his embrace strong and reassuring. It was as if the kiss had been building up inside both of you for a long time, neither one wanting to let it end.

As Bucky pulled away eventually and you laughed, throwing hands up in celebration. “I win!”

Bucky chortled at your response. “Cricket, I don't think you understand. I win every time you look at me, every time you smile, every day that you're beside me is the best day. There will never be a time where you aren’t the most perfect thing in my life. You’re my everything.”

How could you not kiss him again after hearing those words? So you did, desperately, the flowers crushed between your bodies, as yours throbbed with the passion you felt for him in that moment. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you into him, your mouths pressed together as his energy met yours. The feeling of you against him sent a wave of heat through his body. He held you tight against him, unable to resist the temptation. Your lips were soft and he craved them, the two of you caught up in the long awaited moment.

Taking the lead, you tugged at the collars of his jacket, drawing him into your apartment and fumbled to close the door. Bucky tapped it shut with his foot, lifting you into his arms and letting you drape your legs around his waist. Your arms snaked around his neck, still clutching the floral arrangement. With the door closed, he was far less restrained, his mouth left yours, tracing your neck as his lips played with your soft skin. His hands caressed your back softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Bucky,” you moaned.

He smiled at you as your fingers twisted into his hair. He couldn't help but get lost in you so he leaned forwards, his mouth searching for yours. It took only a second for his hand to start exploring your body, letting his fingers roam freely to feel every inch of your soft and supple skin. They trailed down your back and his voice was a husky whisper as he broke from the kiss. “God, I've missed you.”

“I missed you too. Forget what I said, don't go away again.”

“Then let's make up for all the time we lost. I'm never leaving you again.”

“Bedroom, now,” you commanded.

Sergeant Barnes was good at following orders. He marched you across the apartment, hands cupping your ass to hold you up against him, taking the happy opportunity to knead the muscle. He stopped temporarily for you to deposit your now crooked flowers on the dresser before continuing to the bed. He laid you down, getting greedy with the kisses he was giving you. It felt like he wanted to devour all of you. His hand slid up your leg until it reached your hip, hot and cold fingers grazing the bare skin under your dress. His hands stopped temporarily at your hip, just for a moment before they slid up even further under the straps of your panties. His touch made goosebumps erupt on your thighs.

Bucky noticed your reaction and chuckled. He knew exactly how hard his fingers were pressing into you and how you were responding with shivers. He wanted to keep going and his flesh hand came back down to your thigh, rubbing closer and closer to your core. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it slip off his arms and onto the floor, discarded. Bucky approved of the move with a grin, loving to see you take the lead. His fingers were slowly approaching his final destination now and he wanted to get there soon. He needed it.

You marveled at your body's response to his ministrations. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touched blazed with excitement and anticipation.

"Everything go okay with your mission?" you asked, making small talk as Bucky pushed his hands between your legs. You felt yourself tense repeatedly in response.

“Everything went fine... It was rough, being away from you, but got through it knowing I got to be here with you at the end of it.” Bucky's words were barely distinguishable, his voice reduced to a low growl with the excitement and tension building inside him. But he stopped for a moment and looked up at you with a look of pure desire.

"I'm glad you're home," you answered breathily, as you feel his arousal pressed against your abdomen.

Bucky smiled down at you, a hint of mischievousness coming into his eyes as his mouth pulled away from yours and moved down to your neck. His fingers rubbed small circles on the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh and he watched as the skin became flushed just from that small movement. You whimpered softly, holding back your moans. 

He watched you closely with every caress and touch, the way you flinched and shivered from his movements, feeling your arousal growing by the second. He felt your breath grow deeper, heavier as the circles made with his fingers got faster and faster. Bucky grinned at your reaction, eager to go further. But he could see you holding back and his face softened, seeing you bite your lip to avoid making any noise. Bucky broke away from your neck for a moment to whisper into your ear.

“I want to hear everything... let yourself go, okay? Let loose, for me?” He knew why you were afraid of expressing your desires and he was going to make damn sure that your first time together would be perfect for both of you.

You nodded, flushing. “I want you Bucky. I missed you so bad. Tell me how much you want me?”

Your words made his heart skip a beat, he suddenly felt anxious, torn between wanting to please you and feeling embarrassed about sounding foolish. “Cricket, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this? I don’t want you, darling, I need you. Now…” his eyes darkened dangerously, “tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take off your clothes.” You started unbuttoning his shirt, still kissing him desperately.

He kissed you back eagerly, his mouth moving back in rhythm with your tongue. He pulled away for a brief moment as he helped you unbutton his shirt - his hips still pressed against yours. Then he resumed his kissing as he slipped his arm back under you, pulling you against his bare chest. He pushed the straps off your dress, fumbling with the zipper. But the normally nimble fingered super soldier was having some trouble with the mechanism. As his hands fumbled with the zipper he couldn't help but chuckle. “I'm normally not this bad…” The nerves were starting to set in on his mind and his muscles started to tremble ever so slightly as he realized how close you both are to having each other for the first time. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up on the zip, resuming the exploration of your body through the thin material of your clothing, searching for a weak seam in the dress.

You giggle slightly at his desperation. “Don't you dare rip my dress, Buck,” you cried in warning.

It was almost predatorial, the way he watched you as you made the process easier for him. You rolled slightly in his arms, taking pity on him. It slipped off you like water off a duck’s back and for a moment, all Bucky could do was stare. His eyes drifted down to the curves that were pressed so tightly to his body. He wanted more, he craved it. 

As you stood there, feeling the intensity of his gaze on you, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. His eyes seemed to strip away all your defenses, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. But at the same time, there was something undeniably thrilling about the way he looked at you, as if he could see right through to your soul.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you instructed him to take off his pants. His lips curved into a knowing smile, and you couldn't help but return it, appreciating the sight of his flexing abs and the glisten of sweat on his chest. He reached down, hooking his thumbs into his boxers, and you gave him a little helping hand to push them off his hips.

As the fabric fell to the floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erect cock and how it matched the magnificence of his body. A work of art, every muscle defined and sculpted, a testament to the serum that coursed through his veins. But it was more than just his physical appearance that drew you to him. There was a raw, primal energy that seemed to radiate from him, a magnetism that pulled you in and left you breathless. And that was all Bucky.

He stepped closer, his bare skin brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his arms as he wrapped them around you again. His hands, hot and cold, felt perfect on your waist. His deep voice was just a whisper as his hands ran over your body, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to touch everything, I want to worship you," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. His hands continued their downward trajectory, the speed picking up as he grew more and more excited. There is nothing he wanted more than this moment to be perfect for you. 

"What do you want me to do to you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing. I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel amazing. I want to give you everything I have right now," he replied, his lips brushing against yours. His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands exploring every inch of your body with reverence. You could feel the love and desire radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and contentment.

"Bucky, I want you to touch me. I want you to see what you do to me”

As his hands slid lower, you felt a surge of anticipation building within you. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of his touch, letting yourself be carried away by the love and passion that flowed between you. And you knew that this was where you belonged.

“Dear God, Cricket. Is this really for me?” he asked, dipping his fingers between your folds, coating them carefully in your arousal.

You whimpered softly as he continued to caress you, exulting in the ecstasy. “All for you.”

“Hey Cricket?” he whispered, huskily in your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Talk to me darling. Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.” He pushed down on your clit with his thumb, gently rubbing circles over it, working his magic on you.

“Please, Bucky,” you moaned, hips pushing into his fingers. “S’good, but not enough. Want you.”

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Are you sure you’re ready, darling?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you answered. “Yes, want you… inside me. Make me feel good. I need to feel every inch of you inside me.”

“You want me? You want this?” He wrapped his vibranium fingers around his shaft, pumping it up and down with long, firm strokes, right in front of your eyes, taunting you with his cock while teasing your clit.

“Yes.”

Bucky shuffled closer, getting comfortable between your thighs. You spread your legs to straddle his hips, opening your entrance to him. He looked down at you, a look of awe frozen on his features.

“Buck?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Hmm?” he startled out of his reverie. 

“You okay?” you asked, gently.

“Yeah,” he huffed a short laugh. “Sorry, just wondering if this was real or just a dream.”

“Let me show you how real this is.” You put your hands over his, helping him guide his cock towards your entrance. Just before you let him penetrate you, you stopped. “Buck, I… do we need a condom?”

“Nat said you have an IUD.” He frowned, pulling something from his memory. “She made me get some tests, when they came back she said I was good to… fuck you raw. Whatever that means.” Bucky blushed, and you suspected he knew exactly what it meant.

You couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled inside you. It was good to have friends who looked out for you.

“Does that mean we’re good to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re good to go. Just like this.” 

The wetness from between your legs mixing with his as he ran his tip between your folds. He grunted with pleasure as your tight walls pressed against him.

“Oh God Buck, so thick,” you mumbled as he pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust and stretch around him.

Carefully he watched your face for signs of pain, surprised at how well you were doing. “You gonna take all of me, darling?” He threaded his fingers between yours, pushing them up above your head, pinning them to the bed.

You watched as your pussy glided over each and every inch of his thick hard cock. “Deeper, that’s it. Shit Buck, you fill me up so well.”

Bucky felt his whole body tense, willing himself not to blow his load into you after hearing you utter those words. “You like that?” he asked, pushing further until he was buried right inside you.

“Yes, si-” you stopped for a moment, but the flash in Bucky's eyes and the throb of his dick between your legs suggested that he liked it.

“Yes?” he asked, expectantly.

“Yes, Serrrrgeant,” you moaned softly as you spoke, bucking your hips up towards him, pushing that last inch into your stretched out pussy.

“Good girl.” He shuddered as you clenched in response to his words. “So perfect.”

You hummed, happily. 

“Come on, Cricket. I want you to be as loud as you like. You have no idea how much I want to hear you. Ever since Italy. Do you know how hard I was when you said those things?” he growled, pushing himself deeper inside you. “How much I wanted to be the one who made you moan that way. I haven’t stopped thinking about that since then.”

You were speechless, panting as his cock filled you up, stretching your walls to their limits.

“God it makes me feel so many things when you look like that. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

“Well I have some idea, but no harm in hearing it from someone else.” You winked, regaining enough power of speech to sass back at him

Your cockiness earned you an unexpected thrust, making you gasp loudly.

“Have you any idea how hard it’s been these last few weeks? For me to keep my hands off you?” he rasped, trailing kissing up the side of your neck. “I’m gonna show you.” 

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes. Please, show me.”

You sounded better than anything he had imagined. He still couldn’t believe he was the one who was coaxing those pretty sounds out of you. It only spurred him on to drive his hips into you, again and again, faster and faster until he was pounding you into the bed. The neighbors probably wouldn’t be too pleased with the noise your headboard was making against their wall, but you didn’t care at all. He let go of your hands to get a better grip on the bed, to get closer to you until the small hairs on his chest rubbed against your breasts. Every vein on his ridged cock caressed your walls as his swollen sensitive head brushed your sensitive spot repeatedly.

"How's this darling? Is this what you like?"

"Yes, Sergeant, just like that. I’m so close.”

“Don't! Try to hold back. I want this to last as long as possible. I’ve wanted to give this to you for so long... so you can get the most pleasure out of it.” The need inside of him was getting too intense and he held back as much as he could to keep going. He wanted to be able to give you this for as long as he could.

“I can't, it feels too good. I need to cum.”

“Try… that’s my girl." He was having a hard time keeping his voice from breaking as he tried so hard to hold back. “So good for me.” Bucky watched your body react to every move he made. Your hands grabbing at the bed sheets, your hips slowing their movements against him, you moaning and breathing heavily. The sight of all this made it so hard to go slow but he had to. He had to keep trying.

You looked into his eyes and the way he looked back at you felt like he could see right into your soul. Your fingertips dug into his back in an attempt to stop yourself from falling over the edge as he thrusted down into you.

Your touch was driving him crazy and it was almost enough to drive him over the edge. He continued to focus his every effort on holding on but it was getting harder to resist as your hips began to move slightly faster against him.

“Please-” you whimpered. “I-oh God, please.”

“Please what? Go faster? Let you cum? Tell me. Be a good girl and use your words, darling. And maybe, just maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“Please Bucky, make me cum.”

His body suddenly tightened and he let out a small groan as the feeling of your pleas went through him. He was holding back but it wasn’t working as well now. Your legs started to tense up more and were your nails breaking his skin? Every movement you made, every noise from your mouth was sending him closer and closer to his final climax.

His thumb on your clit was what had you tumbling into oblivion, waves of pleasuring washing over you, Bucky's name on your tongue. His face wore a feral, completely fucked out look as your orgasm triggered his, the stuttered way his hips grinded deeper into your body drew out your pleasure until your vision went completely black for a few seconds. You squeezed around him, milking his white hot seed, greedily claiming what was yours until his cum was leaking out of your overfilled pussy. Bucky collapsed on you shortly after, his breathing heavy and his chest vibrating ever so slightly from the effort he had just gone through but he smiled, looking down at you with his most vulnerable expression yet.

“I love you, Buck,” you whispered, carding your fingers through the edges of his hair.

"I love you too, Cricket... so damn much." He let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, the feeling between the two of you was one that could never be matched.

"That was... something else.”

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "That's one way of describing it." He pressed his lips onto yours again for one more lengthy kiss before pulling away and resting his head on your chest. "Did you get everything you wanted?”

"And more.”

He grinned as he closed his eyes for a moment, head still on your chest, and arms wrapped securely around you and his body was still trembling ever so slightly. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking up at you, the warmth of this moment was indescribable. "That makes me happy to hear.”

Every life might be a pile of good things and bad things, but in this exact minute, everything was perfect. Bucky closed his eyes, simply absorbing everything about this moment of peace.

"Is it too late for dinner?” you asked, as Bucky chuckled at your rumbling belly.

“I suspect the place where I made reservations won’t accept us turning up now.”

You sighed and pouted. “Boo.”

Bucky pulled out of you and you lamented about the loss of fullness inside you. He propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand and turned to you. “I was going to make a reservation at Sticks and Stones, but... I wasn't sure if you would feel comfortable with that because that's where... I want you to feel comfortable and secure about us first. ”

“Thanks,” you whispered gratefully. 

“You in the mood for something else?”

"Yeah," you grin, seductively. “Dessert!”

You screamed gleefully as Bucky suddenly rolled onto you, his laughter ringing in your ears.

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST

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[destinationtrekk]

Albert Wesker NSFW Alphabet

a/n: not edited, and i included links to ones already answered in asks so this wasn't a million scrolls long

nsfw below the cut, 18+ only

masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 aftercare with wesker 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Wesker is an ass and thighs man. He’s staring you down in your uniform behind his sunglasses, and don’t be surprised if you have to repeat yourself when you’re sitting close to him and wearing shorts. If you shake your ass when he’s fucking you from behind he’s heart eyes and drooling like a cartoon character. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He always asks to finish inside you. He’s not really into breeding all that much, he’s just obsessed with the way his cum leaks out of your hole and how it leaves his cock sticky and shiny when he pulls out. However he also isn’t a fan of mess or having to change the sheets every other day, so if he’s feeling really lazy he might even wear a condom just to make it easier on both of you. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty sniffer. Why are you booing? I’m right. This guy has INSANE biological and physiological differences from a normal human, so excuse him if you just smell amazing. It isn’t a fetish or anything, don’t make it weird. He’s just able to smell you way past your preferred fragrance, and your natural scent drives him insane. Even better if you wear boxers because then HE can wear them and smell like you and– 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not very experienced when you first get together, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t good! He knows exactly what to do, and he’s watched you enough that he can memorize your tells and most sensitive spots pretty easily. He’s a fast learner. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down ass up, by far. Sure, he loves you on your knees and he adores watching your face twist in pleasure, but being able to press you into the mattress while your ass jiggles against his torso– heaven. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pretty serious guy. Not to say he doesn’t have his silly moments when the two of you are feeling especially loving and giddy, but he takes sex as an opportunity to share your devotion to one another, not as a game or way to simply pass the time 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

A little darker than his hair, but still noticeably blond. He keeps it trimmed pretty short. This goes back to his cleanliness like with cum– he wants to be presentable and also doesn’t want his entire groin wet and sticky when the two of you are finished. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends on what Wesker you like. STARS and uroboros!Wesker are heavy on sweet words and gentle, loving sex, while RE4 or 5!Wesker like it more rough and (dare I say) violent. Not mean!! They just prefer to leave their affection behind in bruises and bites rather than candle-lit confessions of love 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Honestly, doesn’t do it much. He never had a need for it before, and really didn’t have the time or energy either. Maybe when he was in STARS he had a little more time to indulge, but in general he would just rather have sex. On the rare occasion he does, though, he’s quick and efficient. Usually in the shower, to keep it clean, it’s done in a  few minutes and he goes about his day like nothing happened. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

wesker's kinks

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

STARS!Wesker not-so-secretly loves to fuck in his office. It’s a thrill keeping you both quiet and still being in your uniforms, random gear and holsters thrown about when you’re pawing at each other to touch skin. I think maybe RE5!Wesker likes to have quickies in the lab or his office, but it’s more of a power play for him to see you on your knees than anything else. Otherwise, most Wesker variations prefer the comfy bed 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He hates to admit it, but insubordination is a big one. He demands respect, but knowing you have an attitude and aren’t afraid to tell him off gets him rock hard. This is usually how quickies start as well. Another turn on is calling him by his titles (Doctor, Captain, Officer, etc). Once again, he’s a respected figure who earned his titles through work and bloodshed, so giving him this attention feeds his ego (and his massive dick) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wesker will not permanently harm your body or psyche. He doesn’t want to you be his mind/fuck slave, and he won’t have you crawling around after him begging for scraps of attention. He’s with you because he respects you on a fundamental level, so unless those are things you’re actually into, he wants to treat you with the respect you deserve. I also think he isn’t into food play, or any bodily functions in general. Once again, he’s a very clean and mindful person and making a mess doesn’t suit him. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving to giving, but that isn’t to say he doesn’t love both! He enjoys knowing you feel good and he’ll do anything to see you moan and arch your back, but he just adores how you look kneeling in front of him with big teary puppy eyes while he fucks your throat

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He enjoys a good mix of both. He works so often that he usually doesn’t have energy for a rough session, so generally he takes his time and wants it to be sweet for both of you– other times he’s a beast and leaves you marked up for days with a barely-there limp from your sore hips

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Any Wesker loves a good quickie. Not on a regular basis since he’s so busy, but when the opportunity arises, he will absolutely take it. Whether it be in the lab, the office, in the field on a mission- if he has a spare 10 minutes, expect trouble in the form of his desperate hands and mouth.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a big risk taker. He figures worse comes to worse, you didn’t like it and it won’t happen again. Like trying new kinks for the first time or having an especially risky quickie at work- sometimes he jerks off to the memory for a week, other times it’s a little awkward and humorous. He just sees them as trials that may or may not work out, just like everything else. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Insane stamina, much lower energy. He can go for hours if you asked him too, but the poor guy just doesn’t always have it in him. Technically, even tired, he has potentially limitless stamina with how the viruses affect his body, but he’s tired, okay? He needs a nap because he was up all night staring at reports

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He enjoys using toys! Vibrators are his go to because it’s easy to quickly overwhelm you with one, but he also really likes using ropes and plugs. He enjoys plugs a lot because he can keep you from dripping everywhere when he plans on round two later. He also loves to see you squirming and struggling when the ropes come out, and he especially loves when you use the ropes on him. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wesker is a world-class tease. It starts with smug looks and raised eyebrows that make you blush under his attention, then slowly devolves into his breath on your cheek while he’s trapped you against a wall. He’s got a track record of leaving subtle touches on your body when no one is looking, but it still leaves you a blushing mess when his hand finds your thighs under the table. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a shy little guy…. But God can he whimper and moan. He likes to keep himself quiet unless he’s teasing you with dirty talk, but if you get him comfortable or seriously out of his head, he’s loud as all hell. A complete mess, just babbling on about how good you feel, begging you for more, crying out and whining while you wring him dry. He’ll call you every pet name in the book just to beg you for whatever you’ll give 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a whole sub!wesker tag but… this man is a switch. He’s naturally dominant and commanding, even in bed, but when he feels safe and trusts you, he’s like putty in your hands. Whether he’s topping or bottoming, he’ll nuzzle into your skin and whimper like a puppy with every quiet word you coo at him. He’s into praise, hardcore, but he also enjoys a little (read: LITTLE) bit of degradation aimed at him when he can’t stop begging you for more. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 wesker below the waist... 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high! He works his ass off, be it STARS or Umbrella or Tri-Cell, so most often he comes home and collapses on the nearest soft surface before he’s up at the crack of dawn and back to the grind. It’s actually hard to get him to relax sometimes, so even when he does have time to fool around, his mind is going a mile a minute and he doesn’t always have it in him to stop thinking long enough to even get hard. Not to say you never do it, your sex life is very healthy– it’s just not on his mind every day  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll ass out after a good orgasm. You’ve even seen him fall asleep at his desk, head hanging limp against his chest, after a quickie before. If it’s late at night and you’re in bed, good luck getting him up long enough to take a shower

[pnfc]

todays timefilling activity was trying to list all the ways perry's status as an animal has bearing on his circumstances/character. since a lot of these ideas crop up when im thinking about au or human versions of him

unique effects of perry being a platypus:

prefatory notes: -these aren’t all hard canon, they’re a blend of canon/speculation/my personal preference -some are inconsistent in the show, eg perry being banned from riding a bus but allowed at a casino / dubiously allowed to drive a car. these are potential challenges, not universal ones -some of these circumstances can be wielded strategically for perry's benefit (eg perry exploiting assumed mindlessness) so everything listed isn’t 100% negative -some of these can be superficially mapped onto a human version of perry (eg inability to speak), but they’ll have different nuances if he’s not an animal

note i’m not arguing that any one of these points is fundamental to perry’s character, although they do add up to a set of life circumstances with significant bearing on who perry is in the show. this isn’t a case for the eminent superiority of a canon compliant perry over any au version, which is a matter of personal preference. you could similarly list out all the human-specific qualities of an imagined human perry, and you could find that version of the character more or equally compelling -- but these are qualities unique to the canonical platypus perry. (and i do think all of them are fun to explore, on their own and in the context of him having a rship with doof)

note also there ARE canonical au versions of perry for whom these conditions don’t apply, due to him having a different rship with the flynn-fletchers or owca or doof, or him being a different species! e.g. agent p from ‘temple of juatchadoon’ doesn’t appear to have any relationship with the flynn-fletchers ; parable the dragonpus could have any number of physiological differences, like a massively extended lifespan ; the star wars version of perry likely doesn’t face the same kind of judgment/scrutiny over his species or over interspecies relationships

ok

neutral or positive qualities related to perry’s species:

best most immutable aspect of perry being a platypus: he’s a platypus. ie a cute lovable little animal guy with all these cool platypus features like his swimminess and his electro-bill and his whappy tail and his soft warm fur <3

2nd best (debatable) aspect of perry being a platypus: doof thinks all of the above daily

being an animal means he can communicate with / ally with other animals when he wants to

being an animal who isn't a common pet can occasionally yield specialized treatment, e.g. he gets more respect than a cat or dog in some public spaces, he can 'pass' for a human more easily, and many people can't identify what he is

has a unique rship with the flynn-fletchers and especially phineas&ferb -- they named and raised him, are functionally his parents, even if he catches up to / outpaces them developmentally. he gets to experience a loving parental dynamic from them.

also has a unique rship with monogram and carl, who brought him up through the academy. (based on the owca book, and perry’s current dynamic with mono in particular, this was probably less than wholesome/loving treatment)

no standard human education: is educated/propagandized at owca, and is otherwise self-educated or learns through osmosis

has no known biological family

(i like to assume) born/raised in danville, so isn't actually australian

would face less/no prejudice specifically along the axis of him being trans or intersex, it’s more invisiblized for him (otoh him being in a gay rship, less invisiblized)

is an endangered species

physical limitations/difficulties due to perry’s species:

is unable to speak human language (specifically because he’s an animal; he can make platypus sounds -- his rship with muteness would change if he was human) and (as far as we see in the show) is untrained in asl, so his communicative abilities are restricted

produces dangerous venom that he has to be careful of

very short and tiny (which he CAN use to his advantage but can also disadvantage him in human society, or in general - him trying and failing utterly to pull lyla up the train, lol)

likely has limited understanding of his own anatomy/physiology

(realistically) more vulnerable to heat than a human, potential dietary restrictions, less professional medical support available, seasonal hormone fluctuations

societal judgment/restriction of perry based on his species:

forbidden from accessing some human spaces / doing certain human activities

assumed to be mindless or unintelligent, assumed to be non-autonomous and a pet. generally disrespected (even doof is not innocent of this)

can be treated as a child, due to his young age (tho he's a mature adult in platypus years)

perceived by some as less-than-a-person, worth less than a human

by extension, heinz or any human partner/friend faces judgment for prioritizing/being in a rship with him as an animal (even a platonic one)

ways perry’s role as an owca agent is fucked due to his species:

raised as a child soldier, groomed into his career/given no choice in it, and in his short time on earth has had no opportunity to question or escape from it (due to the host family placement which effectively blackmails perry 24/7)

unclear if he has a right to his own person (owned by owca? and/or superficially owned by the flynn-fletchers?) or a legal government presence (e.g. can he legally own assets? he gets an income, but as an animal does the government acknowledge him as the owner of whatever accounts? is he forced to assume a false human identity? is he a citizen? can he rent?)

raised outside of his species, so quitting and living in nature among his own is not an option for him, he is forced to live in a society not built for his species

estranged from his fellow agents on the basis of species, esp. since the majority of them exhibit more instinctive/untamed animal behaviors that perry finds frustrating/unrelatable

forced to hide his intelligence/personhood/capacity for love and complex relationships among his family (much more severe than just hiding a secret job)

also: they make him eat canned worms and use a litterbox, and we know perry finds this humiliating :(

he has limited autonomy around his family -- is subject to the whims of their travel plans, etc. is technically always performing his job, since he has to maintain cover at home. down-time where he can openly express himself is extremely limited.

not legally protected on the level of a human, so if he dies owca likely will face no consequences - they perform animal experiments on him

has limited (if any) job prospects outside of owca - and doesn't get human worker protections

problematic aspects to perry’s romantic prospects:

literally a minor. literally a 41 year agegap with heinz. obscene

more to the point: ppl assuming perry can’t be in a healthy/consensual rship because he’s an animal

has limited life experience and no romantic experience. heinz is his first romantic connection, and there’s a huge imbalance of experience there.

has severely limited and complicated romantic prospects outside of heinz due to his species (an issue heinz does not share)

(presumably) can’t legally marry heinz, and even if he did many people would not regard him as a serious romantic partner (or stepdad, etc)

his natural lifespan is about a third of a human’s, so he and heinz probably have disparate time left, by a matter of decades (additionally, perry will probably die before most people he knows)

how the heck do a human and a platypus have sex… i’m gonna have to think about this one (more to the point: there’s no established precedent for a romantic and/or physical rship between their species, they have to figure it out on their own. that includes negotiating any imbalance in their sex drives)

[suzukiblu]

‘The middle of starting over’ by Sabrina carpenter kind of reminds me of Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

“Do you understand what I mean by that?” Kara asks, suspecting she should dread the answer but knowing she needs to be clear here. “That you belong to our house?”

“Our genetic material is Kal-El’s. Not our own,” Match replies, neutral and by rote. Thirteen’s mouth goes even tighter. 

“We’re not stupid,” he snaps at her, his fists clenching by his sides. 

Kara considers committing a war crime against a backwater planet. Just one war crime. 

“The insult of our continued existence will be tolerated as long as we prove useful to the House of El,” Match says, just as toneless and just as practiced as before. Like it’s something he’s said a thousand times, when he hasn’t even been alive long enough to say a thousand things. Something he just knows to be a foundational fact of life. 

. . . maybe two war crimes, Kara thinks, carefully packing up her seething fury before she can start shouting at the two people in this situation who deserve it the least. There’s two of Thirteen and Match, so that’s fair, isn’t it? Justifiable? 

“No,” she says very, very evenly. “It means you’re part of our family.” 

Thirteen flinches, and looks very briefly hurt before his jaw clenches. Then he just looks angry. Match’s expression is the most perfectly blank it’s been so far and doesn’t change at all. 

They’re very different, for how alike they look. She shouldn’t be surprised by that, but it’s . . . disorienting, a little. 

Mostly because they’re both so different from Kal, she thinks. Neither of them is a thing like him at all. Even at their “age”, he was nothing like either of them. She can’t even imagine how hard a time he must be having understanding them, when they’re both so wildly different from him in such different ways. 

But at Thirteen and Match’s “age”–at both of their ages, both the literal and physiological ones–Kal was an adored only child with a bright future and brilliant prospects and all of Uncle Jor and Aunt Lara’s morals and love instilled in him, not a pair of lab-built “weapons” who must’ve heard their existence called an “insult” somewhere. Who must’ve been told they were stupid time and time again; must’ve been told they weren’t worth anything more than being carriers of the DNA that’d been stolen to make them time and again. Must’ve been told they were possessions and things and at best slaves to–

Kara exhales, very slowly, and pulls the rice out of her pantry. 

“I’m making milk rice,” she informs them shortly. Milk rice sounds like something Earthling children’s palates should appreciate. Mostly children eat it here too, so it makes sense. “What kind do you want?” 

“Milk . . . what?” Thirteen wrinkles his nose in confusion. Has Kal even given these kids dessert before, Kara thinks, trying not to lose her mind. Was there any real information about food or fashion or culture in that “gesture of goodwill” information packet that he presented the Earthling governments with? Because judging by how they’re dressed and the dialects they’re using and the fact that they don’t even know milk rice . . . 

“Milk rice,” she repeats. “It’s a dessert. Milk and rice are involved. Usually it’s made with either bly fruit or katso sauce. Or spygin, but that’s mostly an Argo City thing.” 

Thirteen and Match both stare blankly at her for a moment before their eyes slide to each other instead. Thirteen’s jaw visibly tightens. Match’s eyes just barely narrow. 

“We don’t know what that is,” Thirteen says, glancing back to her warily. “The . . . ‘buh-lye fruit’ and ‘kasso sauce’. Or . . . ‘spy-geen’?” 

Right, Kara thinks, and doesn’t let herself sigh again. They’re going to get the wrong idea if she keeps doing that. 

“Bly fruit is sweet and katso sauce is savory,” she says, carefully enunciating the words without making it completely obvious that she’s correcting Thirteen’s pronunciation. “Spygin’s a spice. Kind of . . . sharp and smoky, I guess, but a little sweet too. It’s hard to describe. Goes good with milk-based things.” 

“. . . you’re asking us what flavor we want?” Match asks incredulously, like the idea’s somehow just occurred to him. 

Maybe three war crimes, Kara thinks. Lantern-level war crimes with a side of unfathomable solar superpowers. No one could blame her for just three, at this point.

[ronearoundblindly]

How does mermaid reader feel about Steve? Like what is her take on their relationship?

just fair warning if you keep writing I’m gonna keep asking questions lol.

I...don't know what happened with this, but it was kinda fun! (unedited, not long, no real warnings except, yeah, he's a human and you're a mermaid, semi-angsty fluff!!)

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield

Steve is a novelty.

Originally, you just considered him a split-tail with a crown of morning sunlight and high-ocean eyes. Later on, you learned it's called 'hair,' but a closer translation based on how mermaids see it is a 'mane.' Steve has a golden mane--something no one in your species has--hence, you think of it as a crown.

You were caged when you first saw him. That made you assume certain things when Steve walked up to the Raft's tank. Even in near darkness, his mane is bright. No other person you've encountered so far has that.

You're curious, frankly, but on-guard as always.

When humans are deprived of sleep, they can hallucinate, and mermaids are no different. You thought he was a complete figment of your imagination until Stark interacted with him, until Steve stepped into the water and put pressure across your heart and hips. The push of his hand, forcing your head against his chest, could have made you howl in relief.

All you wanted was to rest, but something in the back of your mind also told you not to scare him.

Stark, you don't mind scaring, Chuck is right where he belongs, excreted out into the industrial filters beyond the wall of your tank, but Steve? He must be protected.

He sees you. He listens to you.

You did not thing surfacers could do that. Not really. Not nicely. All humans want to do is control and take, use and abuse. However, you aren't afraid of them. You absolutely can kill any one of them that gets closer than you'd like. They're fragile.

But the way Steve grips you? Maybe he's not so fragile...

English is freaking hard. You learn quite a bit from Tony and then practice with Steve. You can feel his patience but love earning his admiration more. You find yourself wanting him to be proud of you and your progress.

You love making Steve laugh. It takes so long to figure out how to amuse him.

Numbers are a pain in the ass to learn because they have a concept, a symbol, and a written word. That's the point Tony halts teaching you to read alongside the verbal language. You threw a fit. He threw a fit. He left in a huff to cool off. You shrieked for Steve to come back for hours.

Eventually, when Tony returns, you threaten to eat him, and he calls it quits for the day.

Tony knew you favored Steve Rogers from day one. He planned to use that knowledge--and to some lesser extent, he did--but soon Tony simply realizes making you happy makes Steve happy...plus you cooperate and become an ambassador of sorts in your home realm.

You keep learning for Steve, not for Stark.

Mermen are, in your experience, domineering and uninspired. Their immense size differential to mermaids is useful to the brute-force model of society deep in the ocean, but they are boring. Your father is not stupid though. Almost none of them are stupid. Simple-minded remains the best translation you can manage.

Steve fascinates you. His attention to detail, his open nature, and his empathy are entirely new to you.

Mermen don't hide their baser instincts, so they freely ogle and flocked toward the most physiologically attractive mermaids. No interest in what's beneath the surface, ironically. Very shallow.

That's not to say bonds aren't possible. They absolutely are. Bonding with a partner is secondary at best, an afterthought most often, and unnecessary at worst.

Yet again, Steve wins you on every level--he has a sharp mind and acknowledges yours, he challenges your development without critique, and, lastly, he's quite attractive for how small and smooth he is.

"Should've seen me before," he once mumbled after you explained all that as well as your vocabulary would allow.

You don't know what he meant by that.

Because a certain level of indifference is common in couplings of your species, you were quite alarmed, embarrassed, and uncomfortable with how deep your affection for Steve became. You know how other humans react to you, and it doesn't build much confidence that one of them could feel this way about you.

During these long, repeated hugs with Steve, you realize that it's not just curiosity, or the novelty of his existence, or interest in learning from him: you feel about Steve how others feel about their mates.

Not gonna lie: that's terrifying. You don't actually know if Steve reciprocates. Sure, he explains human couples in great detail, and he shows you some of what he means, but all that could be...part of teaching you.

Until Steve discusses kissing, you convinced yourself he could not possibly harbor romantic affection for you.

It's lips against something, he says, that's all. His lips can press anywhere and boom! you've been kissed. He illustrates by kissing the back of your hand, kissing your cheek, kissing your forehead.

By now, your face is cradled in his hands. You can hear his heart racing as he sits on the steps in your pool and leans toward your body. His high-ocean eyes are shadowed as he looks down your face, captivated by--

"--your beautiful lips," he says, gently pressing his atop yours.

It's difficult to describe why something so simple hits so dramatically in your mind. The golden-maned man, almost the strongest of his species, amongst the softest of yours, kisses you like he needs to learn you, like he needs your existence, like he's curious.

There's a phrase you hum at the back of your throat once he releases you and sits up, a dusty rose painting his neck and cheeks.

"Swim beside me."

The better translation to English would be "I love you," but you haven't learned that yet.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: why am I crying?????

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[annefolklore]

Gwinam Dark headcanons

Warning: Toxic, abusive behavior, nsfw content at some point

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

——————

The relationship is toxic, I’m sorry but you know damn well it would be

Maybe he wouldn’t abuse you physically, but he would physiologically

Gaslight

I know he would claim you as his and his only, but not in the good way babe.

“You don’t need friends, I’m already here for you”

When you vent about a fight you had with friends or family he would say things like “I could never do such things to you” “See? I told you they’re not good enough for you”.

He always grab you by the neck

If you try to leave him, he either try to sweet-talk you into not break up or blackmail/threaten you.

“I do all this because I love you”

Love language? He could maybe do act of service

He has a god complex. Come on don’t be surprised we’re talking about Gwinam🧍🏾‍♀️

He would do the thing narcissists do. He spoils you a lot at the beginning of the relationship, then slowly starts revealing his true self.

After you told him to stop bullying, he only stopped doing it in-front of you but still does it behind your back.

Dominant as fuck

This man is into some intense shit during intercourse. Choking, degrading, edging, breath play, blood sometimes, bdsm, blindfold you, gaging, spanking, overstimulation…Sorry I got lost a bit but you get what I mean😭

Favorite thing to do is taking you from the back (not anal) in doggystyle, one hand either pulling your hair or choking the back of your neck and the other one giving you backshots. He would put mirrors in front so you both could look at him fucking you and the expressions on your face.

Easily jealous

Controlling and manipulative

He must know every single one of your passwords and if you want to change them, he has to know what the new ones are

His kisses are always rough

He could do anything for you and that’s not always a good thing…

He’s obsessed with you, like he deadass stalks you.

Sometimes follows you without you knowing, so he knows what you’re up to when he’s not with you

No need to say that no guy approaches you, scared of what he could do to them if he learns about it

Your parents? They’re a bit skeptical about him, but since he always put on the perfect-boyfriend mask when he’s with them, they don’t suspect a thing

Pet names? “Mine” “Bitch” “Slut” “Whore”. He sometimes add adjectives during intercourse like “Such a greedy whore for my dick huh?”

During the apocalypse, he wouldn’t hesitate before killing anyone who comes near you two.

After he turns into a hambie, he would definitely threaten you that he’s gonna bite/kill you if you don’t listen to him. You suspect that it’s not true since he protects you, but don’t want to test his limits, by fear he really does kill you

——

Humm….Did I went too far?😭 But yeah I think that’s how he would be like. If you don’t like what I wrote DNI please. Maybe I really went too far, but after I read again the other headcanons I realized I sugarcoated him too much so to make it balanced I wrote this.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Roger Barel - My Thoughts So Far...

Hiii everybody! I just wanted to drop a review/my thoughts on Roger’s route so far, this all about chapters 1-5. I’m anticipating a lot exciting events after his CE is completed, so I’m trying not to delve into my resources too much, which means I'm reading only 1 chapter a day. I think after every five chapters or so, I will write my thoughts about it. Spoilers will be included, they won’t be super detailed, but they are there below the cut.

Okay so in short: I LOVE his route so far, it’s been great. I laughed pretty much in every chapter so far about something or another. Of course, this is just the beginning and I fully anticipate angst, heartache and drama. I CRAVE it. I haven’t really spoilers about his route, except for one and it’s pretty major, so I’m going to leave that out for now and circle back to it when I read it for myself.

Roger’s Kate So Far:

I LOVE her. I mean I LOVE Kate anyway, but she feels very real to me in the outset.

She is very dead set on NOT falling in love. All she wants to do is survive Crown and get out of there, and it’s nice to see that sense of urgency from her. Not to say that she doesn’t have that desire in the other routes, because she does, but I feel like she really stresses that point in the first five chapters. And understandably so, I mean she’s living in a castle filled with men who kill for a living, and it’s emphasized how she hasn’t laughed/smiled once since coming to the castle, or has barely eaten anything. So, seeing her undergo that stress (poor kid), is refreshing in a way because I feel like in other routes Cybird just glosses over the toll that would take on someone.

She’s a drinker (HELL YEAH). She’s gotten wasted twice so far in the first five chapters. The morning after’s were quite adorable (at least I think so.)

She wants to get stronger and become a fighter because she wants to ensure her survival, so we see her taking self-defense lessons with Roger and Ellis, in order to better herself. And I don’t about you, but I STAN A QUEEN WHO CAN FIGHT. So, I’m excited and I can’t wait to see more from our precious Kate.....

Roger So Far:

So…….I never expected a part of Roger’s route to tackle the fact that he doesn’t believe in love. I don’t know why??? But when I learned that we were going that route, I was happy with it. It’ll be interesting to see how his mind and heart is becomes convinced that love is more than just a bunch of neuro-chemicals and physiological reactions. He is brutally upfront about his lifestyle choices and beliefs - I appreciate that. For example, he’s just like when I get the urge to fuck, I fuck. Of course, he has stipulations to that - both parties mutually consent that they fuck only one time (with Kate being the exception to rule for an entire month as long as she keeps quiet to the others about it).

To be honest, I didn’t like this rule because I feel like it hit too close to home with Jin’s rule with women he get’s physically involved with. (FOR THE RECORD: I’m not comparing the two guys. I’m just saying it reminded me of it.)

Moving on, I just wheezed for a good moment when he compared Kate to his family’s corgi - Ale. Like he’s not saying it to be mean or derogatory, just the way describes her getting worked up, depressed, digging her own grave, etc. It was cute and hilarious. Loved it and I LOVE ALE!

Roger’s Relationships With Others:

Nica: Chapter 1 had me in tears when Roger interrupted Nica’s hitting on Kate. His face was priceless and then to be stuck with Victor as a tour guide. Cherry on the top. Gold star for Roger. C’mere Nica, I’ll comfort you…..

Ellis: He drinks with Roger along with Jude, and he helps Roger with Kate’s self-defense training. I’m sure they’re going to be more involved. I expect it because in Ellis’ Blind Love route, Roger says that he betrayed Ellis’ cursed predecessor and that’s a reason why he’s like a big brother to Ellis. He also wants Ellis as his assistant as he feels that he’s too good for Jude, which I think most of us knew beforehand.

Alfons: Well…..we know how “well” they get along. I was dying in chapter 4 - I think it was - when Kate, Roger and Al are on a mission. They’ve determined recreational drugs are being used, so they’re going to go break it up, and that’s when Al & Roger get into this squabble outside the room they’re supposed to being busting into about whether or not it’s okay to use the drugs or not. Al of course, doesn’t see the big deal with it since he is a firm believer in escaping reality, and Roger basically tells him that when a person runs from reality instead of facing it that it just leaves them more empty - Al is just over it and is like you make me want to vomit in his dead pan face. Poor Kate is like ‘we can’t be doing this right now’. Proper school boy frenemies these two are.

Jude: He’s been featured a lot and that’s because his route should be dropping next (fingers crossed), but he is also a Roger drinking buddy and in the Past Records event, Jude & Roger agree to be drinking buddies in hell together…..if there is alcohol in the after life. Of course, he sees Roger quite a bit for injuries he gets, and when Jude asks why Roger is even bothering with Kate, Roger basically tells him that she is trying to survive, and it’s appealing to him. “A small dream, a goal….even small things to survive somehow. Isn’t it the same for you, Jude?” Jude lore??? More on that later in a Jude dissection I’m writing.

Notable Things So Far:

Roger treats the Crown members in exchange for their blood samples. We learn this in chapter 5 when he treats Jude.

Roger’s father doesn’t have a problem coming to the castle to have his son dog sit. I thought this was interesting. It doesn’t seem that he fears the cursed on the whole, and I’m sure that’s due to his knowing Roger is cursed. That’s nice. He seems like a supportive father (I HOPE I’m not wrong.)

Roger create’s a Robin Growth Chart - this is to help her become strong and survive, but also to teach Roger that romantic love is something that is true - not just a biological concept. He’s already noticed a change in his HR (heart rate), when Kate is around, so I wonder how long it’ll take for him to fall.

Favorite Scenes So Far:

Nica losing Kate to Roger.

Ring wondering if Kate and Roger are together - OMG I WANTED TO GOBBLE HIM UP!

Jude’s reaction to Ale jumping into his arm. So DAMN cute!!! Okay, so I am a cat person, but I’ve been dog sitting for one of my BFFs for the past two weeks (I love her), and I was reading this scene as her poodle was curled up next to (like she literally is on top of me every chance she gets), and Jude said: “…..Whaddya doin’, don’t jump on me, it’s hot.” Then he starting grumbling to Kate and Roger about holding onto Ale better, and asks if they were abandoning their duties while Kate’s like: “Oh, ….Jude please hold it more gently.” LMAO. Just picturing him holding this doggo awkwardly was the funniest shit ever, and adorable and we have the same doggo energy. Love them, but don’t jump on me please.

The self defense class with Roger & Ellis - I’m not sure if many of you know, but currently Ellis is my #2. I ADORE him. He is twisted and precious and I love him, and I get just as excited when I see him on the screen as I do Jude. Him sparring Roger just squeezes my heart so much.

Any scene with Roger and Al. Love it.

K, I should go translate or do something more useful........

[thrawns-babygirl]

Hello there lovely, is there any chance that you could write something - anything really idc if it's a drabble, hc or oneshot- involving tatted Crosshair and his send nudes tattoo?

No pressure of course. love your stuff and keep it up^^

have a nice day <3

This was only meant to be a drabble but I got carried away.

And yes I know this fic starts off almost identically to one of my other fics (I think it was one of the follower celebration ones) but for this specific fic I needed to reuse an old trope dont @ me please I've had writers block （；¬＿¬)

This is also another one of my classic medic!reader fics because I wanted it to be gender neutral and doc is the easiest gender neutral nickname I can come up with.

I am not a creative person lmao.

anywho, this is based off of @cloned-eyes absolutely sinful art, which is honestly some of my favorite Crosshair art of all time.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Sexting (I think that's it lmao) Words: 2200+

Been a while since ive written anything this long so i hope my writing is still up to snuff

Masterlist

Where could he be? Where on this maker forsaken facility could he possibly be? You storm through the halls of Kamino looking for Wrecker, the errant clone needing to come and see you for updates to his immunisations before he or the rest of clone force 99 are allowed back out into the field.

It’s not surprising that he’s avoiding you, out of all of them, Wrecker is by far the worst with needles. The man can’t stand them, avoids you like the plague when he knows that it’s time to keep his vaccinations up to date and for what its worth you can’t really blame him. No one enjoys needles.

You huff and place your hands on your hips as you think about where the lovable giant could possibly be. You’ve already checked the mess, the armoury, the Marauder and the training centres with zero sign of him. When you got to the marauder Tech just gave you that look that says, “I understand you need to find him but I’m not going to rat him out” and while you often applaud clones for their loyalty to one another, when it stops you from doing your job it makes you want to rip your own hair out in frustration.

You make your way over towards their barracks, hoping and praying to whatever deities that will listen that you’ll find him and be able to get on with the rest of your job. You take a deep breath, standing out the front of their doors, before keying in your medical override and stepping inside.

You don’t find wrecker, and you wish you had knocked.

Standing in front of you is Crosshair, in just a towel, dark lines of ink on full display over his tanned body. You’ve never actually seen him without his shirt on before, never needed to. The sniper usually manages to stay out of trouble and doesn’t need any assistance when the boys return to Kamino so you had no idea he was covered in tattoos.  

You run your eyes over his chest, taking in all the impressive art that litters his toned form. The silhouette of his beloved 773 Firepuncher that stretches along his chest, the artfully done letters of aurebesh that stretch above his stomach, the other smaller words and phrases that extend down his hips, tantalizingly low, slightly obscured by the fabric of the towel that’s gripped in his left hand.

You run your eyes up his arm towards his face, knowing that he’s going to be wearing that sickeningly infuriating smirk of his and wanting to avoid the cliché “Like what you see?” you know he’s going to drawl at you like you’re in some terrible holodrama.

As you brace yourself to face him, your eyes catch on a single phrase tattooed on his left arm, slightly more patchy and faded than his other ink as if it were the result of a drunken night out in some shady tattoo parlour in the Uscru District of Coruscant. Two simple words that have a profound effect on your physiology causing even more heat to rush to your face, deepening the blush that you know is already far too pronounced on your cheeks and ears.

“Send Nudes”

You finally have the courage to snap your eyes up to his and just as you expected you’re greeted by his frustratingly handsome smirk, his eyes boring into yours, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if this is going to be the final nail in the coffin for your poorly hidden mutual attraction to one another that’s been simmering the last few cycles that’s threatening to reach boiling point as you maintain eye contact.

You lamely open and close your mouth trying to find something to say to the barely covered man in front of you before he decides to end your suffering, breaking the silence with the just as cliché “See something you like doc?” he raises an eyebrow at you before walking over towards his bunk, reaching into a pouch on his discarded armour and producing a toothpick, slipping it between his lips as he looks you up and down.

“I um-” you finally look away from him, suddenly finding the old training posters above his bed intensely interesting trying to figure out what to say to him as if you weren’t just ogling his naked chest and arms for an unprofessionally long amount of time.

You clear your throat “I was just looking for Wrecker… he needs his shots” your eyes dart around the room, avoiding his smug, self-satisfied face for as long as humanly possible.

You cringe at how your voice falters, yours and Crosshair’s interactions are always a battle of wits and snark, constantly trying to one up each other as the rest of the batch endeavour to ignore your vague attempts at flirting with one another. Both of you trying your best to goad the other into making the first move, dancing around the invisible line you’ve both drawn in the sand but never crossed.

From the corner of your eye, you see him walk towards you, you see his arm adjusting the towel around his hips and your eyes are drawn to that stupid tattoo on his arm again, the one that makes you want to throw professionalism out the window and jump his bones regardless of any regulations or rules that would get in the way and muddy the waters.

“Wrecker’s not here” his voice has dropped an octave, as if getting you alone in his room has made him realise that there is nothing physical stopping the two of you from muddying the waters of your relationship and taking that final step. You swallow the saliva that’s started pooling in your mouth, attempting to remind yourself that you’re on duty, you’re in the barracks, any one of the rest of his squad could walk through those doors at any moment an interrupt whatever lewd and improper things you both want to do to one another.

While you were wrestling with your own thoughts and feelings you miss how close he’s managed to get to you, his silent footsteps bringing him directly in front of you and you stare up at him. Has he always been this tall? You lock eyes with him, neither of you saying anything as you just stare at one another, each of you silently willing the other to close the distance between the two of you and take the leap.

He begins moving his face closer to yours, his warm breath brushing over your face, it smells minty you vaguely register as you move your face closer to his, closing your eyes and the distance between the two of you when suddenly you hear loud, boisterous laughter approaching from the other side of the door.

You curse under your breath. Despite this being the whole reason you’re in the barracks to begin with, you would give anything for a few more moments alone with Crosshair. Both of you pull away from one another, Crosshair grabbing a spare change of blacks and walking back into the refresher before the door to the barracks opens and you see the wayward clone himself stare at you with wide eyes. He knows he’s got nowhere to run now as you fix him with a glare that one would assume is because of the amount of time and effort you put into finding him and not because of the fact he just interrupted… whatever was about to happen between you and Crosshair.

You walk out of the barracks with Wrecker in tow, attempting to push whatever it was that was happening with Crosshair to the back of your mind, at least for now.

After another few hours on duty, you finally return to your quarters, sore exhausted and replaying the interaction you had with Crosshair over and over again in your mind. No matter how you try to distract yourself, whenever you close your eyes, you see the dark lines of ink that cover his sculpted body. Does he have more tattoos? Do the go lower? You mind is reeling, and you can’t focus on anything else, you can’t even sleep all you can think about is stupid Crosshair with his stupid tattoos and that stupid send nudes tattoo he has on his stupid arm.

You sigh, picking up your datapad in a vague attempt at tricking your brain into doing something productive when you get an idea. Arguably a terrible and stupid idea that could have a negative affect on your career but… an idea, nonetheless. Sighing and shaking your head you throw your datapad down onto your bed as you stand up to take a shower.

No… this is a terrible idea.

You undress and stare at yourself in the mirror. Maybe… its not a terrible idea? Your mind keeps going back to his tattoos and you decide to throw caution to the wind. Walking back into your bedroom you snatch up your datapad and open an encoded chat with Crosshair’s personal frequency double and triple checking the recipient to make sure what you’re about to do doesn’t end up in the wrong hands before steeling your nerves and standing in front of the mirror. The lighting isn’t the most flattering but you don’t let yourself dwell on that for too long before you strike what you hope is an appealing pose and taking a series of pictures, attempting to highlight your assets.

You flick through the pictures selecting the ones you think are the most flattering and before you have a chance to second guess yourself you send them through to Crosshair with the caption “As instructed”.

You wait for a moment, encrypted chats don’t have notifications for when the recipient has seen the messages so you wait with baited breath for a response. When one doesn’t come immediately you throw your datapad down onto your bed and run your hand through your hair, deciding that maybe he’s just not looking at his datapad right now you finally take your shower, attempting to wash away your nerves and embarrassment, pushing your fear of rejection out of your head as you let the warm spray wash over you.

When you exit the shower and towel yourself off you look at your datapad and see a reply from Crosshair. Your breath catches in your throat as you move to open the message and see that it comes with an attachment.

Holding your breath, you open the attachment only to be greeted by a picture of Crosshair, standing in the refresher in his barracks, wearing only a pair of loose fitting black pants that are pulled down to his thighs revealing what can only be described as the nicest cock you have ever seen. You’ve never thought that cocks were attractive before, but somehow he’s managed to change your mind. It’s long and thick and the way his slender fingers wrap around his girth makes your mouth water.

After spending far too much time searing the sight of it into your memory you read the text that he sent along with the photo just one simple word; “More”.

You dive into bed, datapad in one hand, legs spread however before you get a chance to take and pictures you receive another message from Crosshair, this time there is no text, only a video. You open it and press play.

You watch in pure delight as the recording of Crosshair’s hand moves over his hard, weeping length, his fingers tightening as he gets to the tip creating more pressure around the head. Small sighs and choked breaths can be heard from the audio as his hand works his cock and just as the video ends you swear you hear a whisper of your name.

You scramble to return the favour, attempting to capture the best possible angle as you manoeuvre one hand down between your legs to begin working yourself over. You have the luxury of not needing to share your living space with anyone, so you put on a bit of a show, moaning and whimpering and gasping his name as you touch yourself and push yourself over the edge with a final long moan of his name. Your chest rising and falling as you hit send before you can change your mind or second guess yourself.

Not long after that you receive the final video of the night, your mouth waters and you can feel heat rushing down south again as you watch Crosshair vigorously stroking his cock, muffled gasps and groans coming from his end as he works himself, the head of his cock is so red it’s almost purple and you can see beads of precum leaking out of the tip and running onto his hands as he brings himself closer and closer to the edge. You watch as he bites his lip, face contorting in pleasure as the lines of ink on his skin move with the rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to stay quiet.

He screws his eyes shut and bites his lip so hard you think you see him break the skin, as he stifles a moan of your name, spilling ropes of cum over himself, his hand and his chest, panting before the video ends.

You get one other message from him on the encrypted channel.

>Might need to see you in medbay tomorrow for a busted lip

@where-is-my-mind-tho@antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725@vincentferard

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Destiny Bond

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Non-Binary Character, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> The Government offers Bucky a clean slate if he marries a mutant of their choosing. Can a match motivated by survival ever work out? Arranged Marriage AU

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 7883

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E)  Angst, arranged marriage reluctance, implied incentivised breeding, smut, praise kink, spanking.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Largely written for the Build-a-Bucky bingo, hosted by @buckybarnesevents! This was an utter delight to write. Thanks for the inspiration! For our Bug. Our muse, our superhero, always.

Prompts fulfilled: - ‘Destiny Bond’ – Dick-or-Treat; - ‘Mutual Pining’ – Any Fandom Goes (Kink) @anyfandomkinkbingo; - ‘Hurt/Comfort’, ‘Bucky’s Trigger Words’, ‘Accidental Love Confessions’, ‘Backyard Cookout’, ‘Wrong Number’, ‘Friends to Lovers’, ‘AU: Arranged Marriage’, ‘Space’, ‘Mutual Masturbation’, ‘Spanking’, ‘Possessiveness’, ‘Praise Kink’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (May) @buckybarnesevents (Completionist achieved! :D)

Read it below or on AO3 here. Adorable divider by @plum98! Cards at the end <3

Stevie adjusted my tie, and I swallowed dryly.

“So… You excited?” he murmured, raising his eyes to mine as he earned a weak, wordless chuckle. “Yeah… Probably not how you envisioned it, huh?”

“I mean, I figured I’d probably get married in the fifties. Just, y’know… A century earlier.”

“And to someone you know,” Steve added, his voice low, and I grinned feebly.

“Yeah, well. We can’t all be as lucky as you and Tony,” I teased affectionately, making my best man’s cheeks flush pink.

“I’m glad we tied the knot before all this pressure started,” he admitted, barely audible as he spoke in a nervous whisper, and I could only nod in response around the lump in my throat.

Six months after Tony and Steve married, there was a huge push to increase the number of mutants and superpowered individuals; concerns were constantly growing about extraterrestrial invasion, and the government made no secret of the view that we were now needed more than we were feared. Financial incentives were offered for marrying a partner of their choosing – but it wasn’t money that had me signing up for the program two years on. I was approached directly, far from everything I knew, with a promise that my record would be wiped clean if I participated. I would be repatriated. I could go home.

The only other super soldier was already married – to someone not physiologically altered, to boot, and not to mention a lack of biological compatibility to bolster our numbers without outside influence; Steve had been contacted several times for requests to be used as a glorified stud horse, and he always refused without hesitation. There was nothing they could offer that would make him accept.

So I was important, apparently.

They wouldn’t tell me who I’d be making this vow with – all I was told was that they were a natal mutant. I didn’t know their abilities, their age, their likes, dislikes… I didn’t even know their name. The only piece of information I had was that they were non-binary and assigned female at birth; reproduction was the goal here, after all.

Nobody ever bothered to ask my sexuality, or if I cared about the gender or sex of my partner. If they had, I’d have told them I was open to anyone – gender didn’t matter me, nor the package it came in – but I was horrified that they failed to as much as consider the issue, and had a deep fear that I would fly directly in the face of their own attraction. This was going to be hard enough without further complications.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Steve murmured, gently pulling me from my thoughts.

I nodded slowly, glancing at the reflection staring back at me, pale and wide-eyed. “I need to come home, Stevie. I’ll do anything to make that happen.”

He simply nodded back, smoothing his hands over my shoulders gently. “In that case… Let’s go get you married, Buck.”

Steve and I talked quietly as we stood before the registrar. Tony sat in the front row, acting as our second witness -evidently, the government watchdog sculking at the back of the room to make sure everything proceeded legally didn’t count.

The registrar cleared his throat, drawing our eyes, and Steve offered me a weak smile as the door opened.

I blinked in surprise, gawping at the sight of the small bundle of nervous energy striding up the aisle with less-than-traditional pace.

A small bundle that I’d met several times before.

They came to a halt in front of me, looking equally shocked, rocking on their heels with their hands in their pockets. “… Fancy seeing you here.”

“You… You’re wearing cargo shorts,” I noted faintly, and they grinned.

“I’m always wearing cargo shorts.”

“You’re wearing cargo shorts to your own wedding.”

Their grin grew wider, and they shrugged, trailing a palm down the overshirt laid over a cartoon tee. “I got a new shirt, at least.”

I took in the black plaid, and shook my head fondly. “I appreciate the effort?”

They snorted, fingers flexing nervously. “So… Let’s get hitched, I guess.”

I could only nod silently as the registrar began to speak, deaf to the words as I stared at all 5’4” of the mutant before me. We’d run into one another a few times; they lived a little upstate, just outside of the city, and sometimes our territory – and our marks – overlapped. If pushed, I’d have labelled the quick kid a friend.

And now my spouse, I suppose.

Both registrar and my betrothed were staring at me expectantly, and I blinked, panicked. “Sorry- what?”

“Say ‘I do’, Buck,” Bug teased, nervous smile flickering slightly.

“Oh- yeah, of course. Happy to. I mean, I do,” I added quickly, flustered by the attention, and their face split into a grin once more, this one tinted with relief.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York and the U.S Department of Superhuman Relations, I now pronounce you man and spouse. You may kiss.”

I licked my dry lips lightly, shifting closer, waiting until they leant in a little to brush my mouth tentatively over theirs.

When I drew back, they were adorably pink, eyes diverted shyly from mine.

While I spoke to the witness from the DSR, making sure everything was above board, Bug’s attention was drawn to their cell, a soft frown of focus pulling on one side of their mouth. “It’s good to have you back, Sergeant Barnes,” he concluded with a weak smile. I simply stared at the hand offered to me with a scowl before turning away, determined to make my disdain evident.

Steve was still eyeing Bug with surprise – and something akin to relief that had me cocking my head curiously, earning a small smile when he noticed. “At least it’s someone we know?” he ventured uncertainly, and I shrugged.

“Better in some ways… Worse in others,” I muttered back, gaze straying to the mutant once more. They were still staring down at their phone, the frown now shifted into a smile, tapping briefly before sliding the device into their pocket and meeting my eye with a shy shrug.

“Wrong number,” they offered, waving a hand dismissively, and I nodded, only distantly unconvinced – but it was no business of mine. “So… Now what?” they broached, teeth finding their lip, fingers knotted in front of their abdomen.

“The DSR pays for a fancy hotel as well as the ceremony,” I noted, and winced when their cheeks flamed. “That- I, uh… I-I just meant… Room service. On their dime. All we can eat. I didn’t- There’ll only be one bed, but I- I can sleep on the floor, it’s not a problem, just-”

“All we can eat sounds nice,” they interrupted softly, offering me a reassuring smile, and I sighed in relief, grinning back.

Maybe this will be… Fine.

I hope.

We were congratulated as we checked in – Mr. and Mx. Barnes.

I’m married.

I have a spouse.

“I can’t believe I’m married,” they muttered as I scanned our keycard, seemingly reading my mind. “I didn’t think I’d ever get married, honestly… Just seemed like a whole lot of effort for a piece of paper.”

I shrugged a shoulder – wincing subtly at the pain where flesh met metal – nudging the door open and stepping aside to let them enter first. “I don’t know. Honestly, I thought I would someday. Not quite in these circumstances, admittedly,” I chuckled, following them in and leaning against the door uncertainly as it closed behind us. They looked around with wide eyes, seemingly captivated by the extravagance, and rushed to the window with a gasp. I blinked as they vanished, reappearing with their nose pressed to the glass, wriggling with excitement.

“We can see the whole city from here!” they exclaimed, fingertips drumming on the frame, the wide window offering a cinematic view, and I laughed.

“I always forget how quick you are…” I murmured, shaking my head. The first time I’d run into them, they’d been gone before I’d fully registered them leaning over my mark, trussed up and secure. It wasn’t until later that I learned that they’d arrived before me – unsurprisingly – and was about to turn him in to the police, but my presence startled them, and they fled; I handed the mark to SHIELD, but my mind wandered frequently to the fast bundle of nervousness until we came across each other again, several months later. They almost ran into me as I tackled my mark, skidding to a halt with a squeak of surprise, big brown eyes wide and startled.

Eventually, we’d exchange timid smiles, and then chatted once or twice.

And now… This.

“Yup, I’m a zoomer,” they agreed readily, fingertips drawing invisible patterns on the glass. “… I guess that’s why they paired us, huh? I mean, we all know what they want. And if your abilities are passed on… That’d be an impressive kid. Fast, strong, quick healing, basically immortal…” They frowned a little, eyes lowering briefly. “I never really wanted kids, either…”

My mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, heat rising in my cheeks at the implication. “I- There’s not… The incentive is only for marriage, I mean-”

“No, but everyone knows that’s what they want. They all but came out and said it; all that stuff about increasing the superhuman population?” They shrugged, gaze still on the ground several floors below, a distant sadness flickering across their expression. “They can’t pay us to have kids – it’s even more unethical than what they say they’re doing. Paying us to be their breeding cattle for an entire generation of soldiers is apparently a little too far.”

I blinked at their callous tone – this mild-mannered, sweet little critter, who I’d never heard speak viciously of anyone. It was a shock to hear them so vehement, hands clenching minutely against the glass. “If you hate it so much… Why did you sign up?” I broached softly, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch them with interest.

They shrugged timidly, pulling out their cell to glance at the screen once more. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“They forced you?” I clarified, stunned, and they shrugged again.

“Not like you’re thinking. I… Had debt. A lot of debt. I was about to lose my apartment, could barely afford to eat most days… The day job just wasn’t paying enough, and running around at night isn’t exactly earning me a mint, either. I did it for the cash.”

“Did you get it?” I prompted softly, and they sighed with relief, eyes flicking to mine as they raised their cell pointedly.

“Transferred the money within minutes. All my debt has been wiped, and I’ll get a stipend every week for… Well, as long as we’re married, I guess. More than I need, for sure. It’s solved all my problems.” They offered me a weak smile, and I returned the gesture.

“I know what you mean. I was expatriated; that’s why you haven’t seen me in a while. I had to leave the country. They found me and told me that if I agreed to sign up, I could come home.” I glanced around myself, and my smile became a little more genuine. “I missed New York.”

Their head bobbed in agreement, gaze shifting back to the window. “It’s a good city. I’ve moved around a lot, but I’ve never been in one place for so long. I could get used to being here.” They repeated the motion, head jerking rhythmically, and I cocked my head with a grin at the unique behaviour.

“Well, we’re kind of tied into it now, aren’t we?” I chuckled, earning a confused glance from the mutant in the window, and my brow furrowed. “They gave us an apartment. Didn’t you know that?” They shook their head and I let out a soft laugh. “Okay. Well, the idea is that either one of our apartments would be more comfortable for one than the other – level footing, y’know? Plus, there’s space for those kids they’re pushing for…” I rolled a shoulder, looking down thoughtfully. “It’s pretty much directly between my place and the edge of the city, so… That’s nice, I guess?” I ventured, earning a weak nod.

“It’ll be nicer than mine, I’m sure,” they agreed readily, before glancing to me. “… Your shoulder hurts, huh?”

I blinked in surprise, metal fingers tensing automatically. “I… I guess, maybe a little. How did you know?”

“You roll it a lot,” they shrugged, returning to their invisible sketches on the glass. “I figured it must be painful. Is there a way to make it easier?”

I looked down at the black and gold vibranium, created for me after I’d sought refuge in Wakanda at Steve’s suggestion. I’d earned more than an arm in my time there – I’d also been decommissioned, freeing me at last from the trigger words that activated me as a mindless soldier, obedient and suggestable.

I still refused to hear them, of course. Just in case.

“It… Comes off, I think? Or at least, it has. Never done it myself, though.”

They turned to face me fully, one eyebrow arched. “Wanna give it a shot?”

My stomach tensed, fingers moving automatically to the seam where flesh met metal, probing uncertainly. “I… I’m not sure…”

“Can I look?” they ventured softly, stepping a little closer, hesitating when I frowned anxiously. “I- I don’t have to, I mean- I just-”

“It’s okay,” I chuckled, taking in their wide eyes and nervous twitching. “I can show you.” My hands moved to my collar, and I unbuttoned slowly, throat bobbing with apprehension. This wasn’t a part of myself many people had seen – nor did I think I’d be taking my clothes off in front of Bug, at least not anytime soon. They shifted to sit beside me timidly, hands knotted in their lap, eyes flicking to and away from me shyly until my shirt dropped to the bed, and they finally took me in fully, staring openly until I felt my face flush minutely. “What?”

They turned red, gaze lowering immediately, and wriggled with embarrassment at having been caught. “I- You’re… Very pretty. Objectively speaking,” they added quickly, cheeks blushing darker. A moment later, however, they were distracted by the metal of my arm, fingertips reaching out to trail along the rivulets that made up the individual plates. “Wow… This is amazing…”

“It is,” I agreed readily, shifting my arm to make the plates move, earning a surprised gasp. “Shuri – she’s this kid in Wakanda, real smart – she worked hard as hell on it. It’s way better than the old one; it hurts less, too.”

Humming curiously, their hand travelled upward, and I winced minutely as they brushed against my skin, earning a muttered apology and quick redirection. When their fingertips probed along the back of my shoulder, we both froze at the feel of the small button, eyes meeting uncertainly. “Should I?” they offered softly, and I swallowed, shaking my head.

“I- I’m okay. It’s not so bad, honestly,” I replied with a soft smile, forcing myself to ignore the pain of nerve and vibranium knotted together, the constant stimulation from the attached limb causing endless, searing shots of fire through my shoulders and ribs. They nodded back, eyes darting around the room distractedly, and I chuckled under my breath as their stomach rumbled audibly. “So… Room service?”

We settled with unexpected ease into our life, content to share a space and our time. We went on patrol together, my senses and their speed pairing well – perhaps the government had gotten something right after all. I offered them the main bedroom, taking the larger of the other two. It was clear that the program truly was all about reproduction; both spare rooms were made up as nurseries, and I had to wedge my bed in between a crib and a changing table, unnerved by this decorating for a child that was unlikely to ever exist.

Two weeks into our new routine, we decided to invite some folks over, have a cookout in the backyard and introduce Bug to the team. I prompted them if there was anyone they’d like to attend, but they simply shrugged, moving on the conversation quickly.

Some of the team had met them before, a crossing of paths similar to our own, albeit less frequent. They’d never exchanged more than a polite smile or a formal nod, and they relished the opportunity to speak with this quick bundle of nervous energy. Everyone got on well, and I found myself watching with a smile on more than one occasion as they chuckled with my nearest and dearest.

Steve caught my eye and grinned, cocking his head inquisitively, but I simply blushed lightly and looked away.

Sure, they were sweet, and pleasant to live with. They didn’t tidy up often, but they didn’t really tend to make too much mess – and they made an incredible sweet potato curry. It was… Nice, having someone to come home to.

I could see myself being quite content to do this forever.

But the idea of being with them, in that way, the way we were expected to be...

Well. Wouldn’t that be something – to actually fall in love with this person I’d been pressed, all but blackmailed, into marrying? A coincidence indeed. Fated, almost.

But they showed no indication of wanting anything more than our platonic comfort, and I accepted that. We lived in companionable peace, even if we had started spending more and more of our time together, talking about our lives and our abilities, watching crappy TV shows until we laughed so hard our faces hurt. Despite the adorable appearance and quirky mannerisms, they could be filthy as anything, mahogany eyes flashing with amusement whenever they landed a quip with expert timing. We ribbed each other in affectionately devastating ways, and I loved it.

It took eight months for me to began to wonder what happened next.

I’d been passing by their room on my way back to bed after a restless night, padding silently by the cracked door, the darkness inside implying their unconsciousness.

Until I heard a soft sigh that brought me to a halt, head cocked.

I was no stranger to the scourge of nightmares, and reached out a hand to push the door a little wider, wanting to clarify before I entered to comfort or wake them.

My throat ran dry at the sight of them sprawled across their bed, sheets tucked around their waist, their head back and lips parted – and one hand moving slowly between their legs. My cock stirred at the sight – an automatic reaction to an erotic display, I told myself firmly – and I gulped as they let out another quiet whine, free hand curling in their dark curls as their hips twitched. Surprise and curiosity held me fast, watching for a moment as their legs inched further apart and their breath came faster.

Then their head turned, eyes finding mine in the low light, and I froze.

“I-I- Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I was just- I walked past and I heard- I thought you were- I-” My stammers came soft and useless, and they offered me a shy smile.

“I couldn’t sleep either. ... You can join me if you want.”

I nodded automatically, then blinked, stunned. “I... Huh?”

A low chuckle, and they shifted a little, creating some space beside them. “It’s hard to find something to get off to since porn was banned... Might be nice to have something to watch, if you’re up for it.”

I swallowed again, cock twitching insistently in my sweatpants, letting out a weak nod. “Yeah, that... That’s true... Guess they did it to try and get the newlyweds to fuck, or something... Less likely to have fun on their own, I guess?”

“Buck?”

“Hm?”

“You’re rambling... Join me or go away, your hovering is distracting.” They shot me a grin as they spoke, affectionate and reassuring, and I nodded again, footsteps hushed as I crept into the room. Their hand began to move again as I stood at the edge of the bed, my arousal evident, hesitating.

“What... Should I... Undress, or-?”

They licked their lips a little and nodded, eyes trailing over my chest and down to the straining in my pants. “No objection here. However you’re comfortable...”

I nodded back, feeling shy and excited as I tugged my shirt over my head, shivering minutely at their eyes on me as I hooked my thumbs in my waistband. Their gulp was audible as I dropped my sweatpants and straightened, and I smirked, sliding in beside them as they moved the sheets from my spot. Metal fingertips caressed the aching outline of my cock briefly, their gaze locked on my hand with rapturous attention, and I let out a quiet groan as I slid my boxers down my thighs, the cool night air soothing on my pulsating length.

“Jesus, Buck... Is everything about you impressive?”  they breathed, heart fluttering audibly, and I snorted, fingers wrapping around my cock slowly as it twitched once more.

“I suppose it’s... Fine,” I replied with a smirk, heat shooting through my veins as their hand shifted a little quicker, lip slipping between their teeth.

“That thing would split me open,” they breathed - but there was no horror in the words whispered with halting breath, a shudder traveling through their body as their hips twitched. I groaned and gripped myself a little tighter, head falling back, their eyes on me making a typically unremarkable event infinitely more arousing.

“You reckon?” I murmured, brushing my thumb over my leaking tip as they nodded firmly.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to take it all... It’s so thick...” My moan of pleasure at their words was almost embarrassing, but I was too enraptured to care, hand curled around my length eagerly. They grinned, inching minutely closer until their leg brushed mine. “Oh... That’s your thing, huh? Being told how huge your cock is? God, I don’t think my tight little pussy could handle you...”

The whimper that eked between my teeth brought a blush to my cheeks, but I was too far gone to care much, hand moving quickly as my cock pulsed with desire. “Fuck- God, it’s been so long since I had a pretty cunt wrapped around me... Can’t remember the last time I had this cock buried in an eager throat...”

They mewled, back arching, and my grip stuttered as they fumbled under the blankets, a low buzzing distracting me from my impending climax. I could see the moment it touched them, their pupils flaring in the dim light – and even more obvious was the moment it slipped inside them, a deafening whimper bursting between their parted lips, tipping their head back as they writhed. “Oh, God – fuck, I can’t- I’m going to-”

I grunted my agreement as I worked myself desperately, my timing aligning with theirs as we shared the moment, their whines and moans of ecstasy spurring me on until they cried out, the delicate arch of their back as they sobbed their pleasure tipping me over the edge.

We lay in silence for a few minutes, each panting and trembling, as reality began to seep into my serotonin-soaked brain, the space between us feeling as if an impassable canyon rather than a foot.

What now?

“Okay, well... Thanks, I guess? I hope you manage to get some sleep now,” they murmured, tucking the sheets up to their chin with a yawn. I blinked in surprise and nodded, shifting upright.

“I... Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning,” I replied hesitantly, grabbing my clothes where they lay. I felt their eyes cut to me in the darkness as I stood, but I didn’t dare look back, seed still cooling where it had landed on my chest.

When I slipped between my own sheets a few moments later, clean and confused, I found myself unable to shake the feeling of their eyes meeting mine in the darkness, the way their leg brushed mine under the security and secrecy of the sheets.

Somewhere deep inside, I couldn’t help but want to reach out across the empty expanse beside me.

We avoided each other when we woke the next morning- the only indicator that they were even around was an empty coffee cup left in the bottom of a freshly cleaned sink. I chewed my lip uncertainly as I worked my way through a bowl of flakes, mind whirring.

Are they staying away from me? God, that could make things awkward... It was a lot of fun, but maybe it was a mistake? They seemed to kick me out pretty quick...

As if on cue, they sauntered into the room, looking unexpectedly unabashed and calm as they smiled at me. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

I blinked in surprise, pausing with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “I- uh... Not too bad, thanks. You?”

They stretched their arms overhead, and I swallowed dryly, carefully diverting my eyes from the half-inch of skin that showed from under their shirt. “Pretty good, in the end. Hey – it’s Tony’s party tonight, right? Are we still going?”

Nodding slowly, I lowered my gaze to my breakfast, feeling clumsy and wrong-footed. “Sure. If you like.”

Tony held a party every year the day before his and Steve’s anniversary – the day itself was just for the two of them, but they also wanted to celebrate with the team; the billionaire needed no excuse to host, after all. Liquor and laughter would be flowing freely, and it sounded like exactly what I need to avoid the uncomfortable conversation that was sure to arise at some point.

“Sounds great!” they replied readily, rolling a shirt over their shoulders. “I have a few calls to make today, but I’ll be back around three, if you want to head over together?”

I nodded silently, my eyes still on my food, perturbed by just how... Fine they seemed.

Like it never happened.

But my mind was filled with their whimpers and whines, the way they trembled as they filled themselves, their pants and groans as their back arched and they found their release...

I want it to happen again, I realised abruptly, and my gaze shot up to find myself alone in the kitchen, mouth half open to say as much.

They were quiet on the drive over to Stark Tower – though that was nothing unusual. Despite how many times they’d interacted with the team since the wedding, they still got anxious. They never said as much, but I could see it in their constantly shifting eyes, the way they wrapped their arms around themselves as if fighting to hold their nerves at bay. It was endearing, really, that they still got so shy and apprehensive around the group until they’d settled into the company.

“Doing okay?” I murmured as I pulled into the lot under the tower, earning a brief nod.

“Doing okay,” they assured me quietly, foot tapping out a staccato beat against the floor. I offered them a reassuring smile, uncertainly returned, and climbed from the car, an eye-wateringly expensive bottle of scotch in hand. Tony drank far less than he used to, for certain, but he still had an appreciation for the finer things in life – and he’d certainly taught Steve to appreciate a well-aged whisky.

“So, Tony and Steve; they were married before all this?” they asked, pulling their overshirt a little closer around themselves as waited for the elevator.

“Yeah. They’d been on the team together forever, but Steve was too... Stuck in his ways.” I grinned to myself with a shake of my head, fondly remembering the night Steve had sat before me, shaking and terrified, head bowed as he muttered his secret – one I’d been suspecting since we were kids, of course, but that made me feel no less honoured. He’d talked about discrimination and hate crimes and murder; he knew that most of those wouldn’t do him much physical harm, in the long run, but he hated the idea of being despised by anyone for simply being who he was.

I’d sworn to shield him as best I could – but I admit, my jaw hit the floor when he confessed that the man he had feelings for was none other than Tony Stark. But, true to my role as his best friend, I’d investigated tentatively, probing for any indication that the feelings were reciprocal. In the process, I’d been teased mercilessly by more than one member of the team; it seemed my investigating wasn’t quite as tentative as I’d hoped, and rumours spread quickly that I was the one lovestruck over the billionaire. I refused to out Steve like that – but in the end, the gossip was beneficial. Tony had heard the rumours through the grapevine and pulled me aside, oddly serious as he confessed that there was no chance for us, and ‘do you think Steve would be up for joining me for dinner sometime?’.

Eight months later, they were engaged, and married before they’d hit two years. It had seemed somewhat quick at the time, but Tony had never shown willing to settle down before, and his enthusiasm made it seem so very right. In the end, it was good they’d moved as swiftly as they had; both had – largely - avoided the harassment aimed at the superhuman community thanks to their pre-existing commitment.

And now it was three years later, and they were just as blissfully happy now as they were on their wedding day.

The elevator opened, jarring me from my thoughts, and my face broke into an automatic grin at the gathering of my nearest and dearest, laughing and chatting with affectionate camaraderie.

“Buck! Hey, man. And you brought the Buglet, huh?”

I offered Tony a half-wave, glancing at my spouse beside me, who simply blushed shyly. “Hey, Tone. Happy anniversary. Got you something.” I offered the scotch with a dramatic flourish, and he gasped theatrically.

“Just what I’ve always wanted! How did you know?” Tony exclaimed. Bug snorted loudly before covering their mouth in surprise, cheeks flushing crimson – but Tony simply reached out to pet their head adoringly. “Good to see you again, little one. Make yourself at home; this is always an event to remember. Eat, drink, and celebrate. Today’s for living, you know?”

Steve appeared by his side as if from nowhere, arm around his husband’s waist and an affectionate kiss to his stubbly cheek. “And each is better than the last with you, sweetheart,” he purred, earning an adoring sigh from Bug.

“You two are so cute,” they crooned, head tipped to one side as they smiled. “It’s nice to see folks so in love. Too much of marriage is just business these days.”

I winced minutely, but nobody seemed to notice – except Steve, whose eyes bore into mine intensely. “… Hey, Bucky, wanna come check out what we did with that en suite I was telling you about?”

It was a poor excuse, and Tony’s arched eyebrow more than gave away the flimsy lie, but I nodded anyway, falling into step behind my friend as he led the way through the throngs to his bedroom, offering nods and smiles of gratitude to his well-wishers until he closed the door against the noise, turning to face me. “… Well?”

“‘Well’ what?” I rebutted stubbornly, jaw set, and he rolled his eyes affectionately.

“You know exactly what, Barnes. What’s going on with you and Bug?”

I shifted uncomfortably for a moment before dropping onto the bed with a sigh, flopping back with a hand over my face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you mean you-”

“Look, that- there was this… Thing, last night. Something happened, and now it’s like nothing happened, and I don’t have any idea what’s happening.” I sighed again, palm scrubbing over my skin frustratedly. “I don’t even know how to bring it up.”

He sat beside me quietly, one hand reaching out to rest on my shoulder gently. “… Can I say something?” I moved my hand to look at him, nodding weakly, and he offered me a small smile. “I’ve never seen you like this. So… Focused on someone else, like you move around them like they’re the centre of your universe. At some point, you started to orbit them. I don’t know exactly when you started to fall for them, but… I think you are.”

“I think I am,” I agreed, my voice barely audible, the acknowledgement settling into my chest heavily. “I… I think I am. Fuck.” My hand pushed through my hair as the full weight of the realisation hit me, air driven from my lungs, a deep and uncertain fear burrowing into my marrow. “What am I even supposed to do about that?”

“The only thing you can do, I suppose,” he noted softly, and his smile widened just a little as met my eye. “You talk to them, tell them how you feel. It may go badly… Or you may get everything you ever wanted.” His gaze flicked to the picture on his bedside table, the captured moment of his and Tony’s kiss during the wedding ceremony, and his grin became adoring and tender. “It’s a good way to live.”

Steve and I stayed in his room a little while longer, his polite listening acting as a sounding board for me to hypothesise how I wanted to approach the matter with my spouse. Half an hour later, the door opened, and I had a tentative plan and a modicum of confidence.

Until, that is, I spotted them leaning against the kitchen counter, head tipped sweetly, a soft smile playing on their lips.

And an archer standing far too close for my comfort, leaning in a little as he murmured to them.

My muscles tensed automatically as his hand found their arm and they laughed softly, inching nearer, less than a foot between their bodies. The sight froze me to my spot – but Barton’s hand shifting to rest on their hip thawed me, and I moved quickly, jaw set, and metal fingers clenched.

“What’s going on over here?” I muttered through gritted teeth and a forced smile, though the strain in my voice was evident.

Clint’s hand dropped and his eyes flicked uncertainly, but Bug simply chuckled. “I’m just getting to know the team a little better...”

Every minute detail of my plan was fully wiped from my mind, and I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I’m leaving. Come if you like.”

Their expression turned from happiness to confusion as they nodded their agreement, shooting Clint one last, apologetic glance. “Uh... Sure, Buck. Of course.”

The drive back was silent and faster than it had any legal right to be. I could feel Bug’s tension beside me, my clearly heightened emotions making them uncomfortable, but I couldn’t force myself to calm down. The sight of his hand on their hip replayed endlessly in my mind, forcing my foot down harder on the gas, as if I could outrun the memory.

I have a lot of experience with that.

By the time I pulled up outside our apartment, the atmosphere was palpable, and they’d retreated into themselves uncertainly, arms wrapped around their waist as they shuffled inside.

I could only move through the home we shared with frantic, frustrated energy, searching for something to burn away this fury and convince me that no, I don’t need to go back and rearrange Barton’s face.

“Buck?” they offered tentatively, still stood in the middle of the living room. “Are... Are you okay?”

“Who the hell does he think he is,” I muttered, pushing a hand through my hair as I came to a stop in front of them, eyes darting in my endless quest for relief, “putting his hands on my spouse like that?”

They blinked in surprise and stepped closer, anxiety fading into confusion. “Clint? Look, Buck, I was flirting too, okay? If you’re worried that he was harassing me or something-”

“He shouldn’t have been flirting with you at all!” I snapped, gaze finding theirs at last. “You’re married, for God's sake.”

“I mean, technically, but it’s not like we’re married, y’know?” they replied, rolling their eyes. “It’s just business. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Yeah, well, I do!” I growled, stepping closer. “I don’t want to see you flirting with other men, do you hear me?”

They raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. “What interest is it of yours what I do? I mean, last night was fun, but I’m your spouse in name only, right? This was a transaction, Buck, it’s not like you’re in love with me or anything!”

“What if I am?!” I snarled, hands tightening by my sides. “What if seeing Clint’s hand on you made me want to rip off his fingers one by one and never let anyone touch you again? What if I want to be the only man with his hands on you? What then?”

The adrenaline left me as their eyes grew wide, and I slumped my shoulders, turning my head away. “I... Look, I didn’t want to do it like that... I wanted...”

What did I want?

There was a plan. A calm, civilised conversation.

But isn’t this more... Me? An accidental declaration borne of fury and jealousy? Threats and violence and anger?

They deserve more than to be shackled to m-

“I didn’t think you felt that way, too,” they murmured, interrupting my spiral, moving closer to put a hand on my arm, unphased by the tightness and the metal under their skin. “I... Just wanted to feel wanted. After you left last night...”

“I thought you wanted me to go,” I breathed, unable to tear my eyes from their fingers clenched against the vibranium as they shook their head fiercely.

“No! When you got up I wanted to ask you to stay, but I didn’t- I couldn’t... I didn’t know how.” They sniffed, and my gaze cut to theirs quickly, finding unshed tears lining their lashes and glistening in the low light. I moved to cup their cheek quickly, thumb brushing to catch a tear as it fell.

“Hey now... It’s okay. I’ve got you, little one,” I whispered, offering them a weak smile. “I’ll never leave again, not unless you tell me to.”

Without warning, they crushed themselves to my chest, arms tight around my waist as they burrowed in. I blinked in surprise, my grip careful as I returned the gesture, pressing a gentle kiss to their hair. “Buck?”

“Hm?” I replied, cheek resting on their head lightly.

“Will you take me to bed?” They looked up shyly, and I took them in, enraptured – the big brown eyes, the cheeks flushed minutely with embarrassment, the lip pulled between their teeth in their uncertainty – and my heart ached.

“I’d be honoured,” I breathed, fingers moving to tip their chin up lightly. Our only kiss before this had been cursory – transactional, as they’d said. But now, when my mouth met theirs, my veins burnt with the need of it all, sweetness quickly dissolving into a desperate clash of tongues and teeth. They whimpered in surprised delight as my hands found their ass to lift them easily, their own arms snaking around my waist to press themselves closer, calves braced against my lower back. A low groan escaped me as their fingers entwined in my hair, and I kissed them deeper, my pace fluid and fast as I carried them through to my bedroom.

“I’ve never been in here,” they breathed as I dropped them back onto the bed, their legs still clinging tightly to me. “Six months, and I never got past the doorway...”

“Well, we’re gonna make up for lost time,” I murmured, peppering kisses over their throat, eliciting a pitiful mewl and an arch of their back.

Oh... So that’s what it feels to have you do that against me. Delicious.

My hands found their waistband, fumbling for the belt. Heat rose in their cheeks as I met their gaze, but they nodded encouragingly, lifting their hips to let me remove the trademark shorts. “Hm. Interesting... Not what I’d have expected,” I breathed, trailing one fingertip lightly over their cotton-covered hip, surprised and pleased by the lack of skin covering the panties permitted. They blushed deeper, and I grinned, dropping to my knees between their thighs to trail gentle kisses along the inside of their leg. Another whimper, and their fingers found my hair once more to tug needily.

“Please, fuck...”

I glanced up, a devilish smirk tugging at my lips. “Mm. You’ll get what you need, little one. But first... You’ve been bad, and you need to be punished.”

A quick, eager nod had me flipping them over, ass offered willingly. I shifted their underwear down patiently, swallowing back a moan at the sight of the wet fabric, and smoothed a palm over their soft, unblemished skin. “You moved... Six inches closer to him. I think one per inch should suffice...”

They started to nod, but cut the motion short as they let out a moan when my hand met their ass, leaving a faint red mark in its wake. I smiled to myself as goosebumps erupted over their skin, hips pressing up minutely, silently begging for more.

You enjoy this, hm? Interesting...

The second slap met more firmly and they yelped, but their hips rose again, encouraging and pleading. It appeared I’d found their sweet spot, and the last three came in quick succession, leaving glowing skin in their wake – and a thin thread of wetness to their thighs as they squirmed happily.

“Thank you, Sir,” they breathed, and my heart about stopped. I flipped them quickly and all but tore their underwear from their legs, dropping to my knees and dragging them closer to bury my face in their sweet, leaking cunt rapturously. The act earned me a deafening moan, hips jerking to press me closer as I lapped at them ravenously. “Fuck! Fuck, Buck, just like that- oh God, please...”

Fingertips probed questioning at their wetness, and they whined their assent, shifting nearer with a feral desperation. Their breath hitched as two fingers worked their way inside them, the only sounds to be heard my soft moans and the erotic melody of my hand moving inside them, until they found their voice once more. “Please – Buck, fuck, I can’t- I-I need to- I’m going to-”

“That’s it, baby,” I purred, leaning back just far enough to murmur under my breath. “I want everything you have before I fuck this pretty little pussy and make you scream.”

My words sent them over the edge as my lips wrapped around their clit, fingers working eagerly against their walls as their wetness spread steadily along my wrist. Their cry made my already aching cock pulsate, and I groaned against them as they cried out, pressing themselves desperately against me as their pussy clenched frantically around my hand.

I lapped lovingly at their fluttering cunt as they trembled through the comedown, soft whines and whimpers spilling from their parted lips, fingers shifting from clenching to caressing weakly. “Oh, God...”

A quiet purr radiated in my chest, my tongue passing one last time over the length of their slit before my lips brushed slowly over their abdomen, shifting patiently higher as they trilled under their breath. “Good?” I murmured, kissing them tenderly, grinning when they could only nod weakly in response. One hand reached out, and their eyes widened infinitesimally as their palm pressed against the straining in my jeans.

“Please...” they breathed, fingers tensing against me, and I offered them a teasing grin.

“Sure you can take it?”

They nodded eagerly, hand curling against my length needily. “I- I’m gonna do my best…”

With a soft groan, I shimmied down my jeans, barely getting them to my thighs before I was moving on to my boxers. Their quiet whining and wide eyes were incensing, and as I teased my tip against their slick cunt, their pupils flared with lust, drawing me in until I pressed closer as if hypnotised, moving my lips to theirs and sinking into them in slow unison. Their soft whimper sounded against my mouth as I buried myself inside them inch by inch – but as I paused, a hand found my hip, their whines ratcheting up a notch as they pulled me closer insistently. “Don’t stop – don’t stop, please…”

My mouth found theirs more firmly as I bottomed out, shuddering at the feeling of them stretched around my length, my breaths coming short and sharp as I resisted the urge to fuck them without mercy. Their legs wrapped around my waist and their back arched, lips and eyes wide. “You okay?” I breathed, kissing along their jaw as they nodded eagerly.

“Feels so good… So full…” they whimpered, fingers curling against my spine. “Please – fuck, please, Buck…”

I shifted slowly and they groaned, head tipping back in ecstasy as I moved inside them. “You feel so good, baby… So tight wrapped around me like that…” I breathed, nipping lightly at their ear, and they squirmed happily. “Oh, you like that, baby? Like being told how good you are – how amazing you feel?” They nodded shyly, and I grinned, rolling my hips a little faster. “You take it so well – so beautiful while I’m splitting you open like that…”

“Please,” they whined again, tugging insistently at my hips as their calves gripped me tighter, back arching. “Please – fuck me, Buck. Let me make you feel so, so good… Make me feel so good…”

My hips snapped forward and they moaned in pure joy, fingernails digging into my skin frantically as I set up a fast, hard pace, moving to tangle a hand in their hair and press my forehead to theirs, the other hand shifting to caress their clit with devoted eagerness. The wordless whines and begs that spilled from their lips only heightened my need, their desperate pants spilling over my lips as their body tightened once more. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. You’re so good for me. I want you to come for me, sweetheart. Make that perfect pussy hold on so tight while I fill you up… Such a gorgeous, flawless critter…”

They gasped and cried out immediately, back arching, hips rutting frantically as their muscles clenched around me. The unintelligible whimpers and pleads, the way they clenched around me; it was enough to break the strongest of men, and I groaned as I emptied myself inside them, face finding their throat to burrow desperately.

I lay panting with my head on their shoulder, one leg hooked over theirs, their fingers caressing my hair tenderly.

“I love you, you know?” I murmured, pressing soft kisses along their throat, and they hummed happily.

“I love you too… Y’know, I think signing up for that program may have been the smartest thing I ever did.”

With a laugh, I leant up on my elbow, catching their mouth with mine in an act of utter devotion. “Back at you, sweetheart.”

[friendofcars]

I've been wondering if you have any thoughts on the line "A sword is never a killer; it is a tool in the killer's hand" but specifically in the context of tdt ch 18 where ronan says it. I thought it could be a reference to ronan's nightmares and night horrors being a tool for his self-destruction, but would love to hear your thoughts!

hi, thank you for this message (and for waiting)! i'm going to try to stay within the context of tdt ch 18 in my actual answer (so this response won't discuss the phrase as it relates to the gray man [and greenmantle, and niall, and so on] and other overarching themes in the series such as tools vs. weapons, magic/love as tools that can be wielded as such, etc.). as you can probably guess, i'll be mentioning suicide, self-harm, and general depressive/self-loathing thoughts and behaviors, though there are no graphic descriptions of injuries.

i definitely agree that the main reference of this phrase is to how ronan’s night horrors act as a means for self-harm: both physically and physiologically; both in the dreamscape and in the waking world. ronan, the killer; the night horrors, tools in his hands he wields against himself. to me, one of the central themes or questions of chapter 18 to the characters (ronan and gansey) is the true nature of ronan’s suicidal thoughts and behaviors. of course, as a reader, being able to interpret all the literal and metaphorical aspects of the text makes my interpretation of ronan’s words and actions different than gansey and ronan’s interpretations. i think the reason for me mentioning this will become clear later.

i’m not sure how prominent a debate over the truth of ronan’s attempt is (or was) amongst trc readers, but i think there are two main possible interpretations (although i think the distinction between the two is not very important in the end, given how metaphors are used in tandem with the mundane in the series). a debate, if one existed, would investigate whether a subconscious urge to harm oneself is equivalent to a realized/intentional one and different thoughts on interpreting certain magic metaphors in trc. i think a distinction between subconscious and conscious suicidality (i.e. decoupling his waking desires from his subconscious impulses and assuming suicide would require conscious intention; assuming that ronan did not kill himself but was rather attacked) is possible and would make more sense in a conversation about lived experiences of real people (dream magic put far aside of course) but in trc, especially in the case of ronan, who regularly manifests aspects of his psyche in other objects and beings, we can take them as more similar or even the same experiences in this very specific case. in other words, i prefer to holistically evaluate ronan’s suicide attempt via night horror as both symbolic and literal given that he is the source from which the horrors are generated and that they have a singular lust for only his blood. in my opinion, this interpretation is more consistent with the symbolism and themes of ronan’s dreams as a larger category, inclusive of the night horrors.

in chapter 18, we learn that ronan has allowed people (including close friends, like gansey) to believe he attempted suicide by mundane means several months prior to avoid disclosing the secret of his dreaming/that his injuries were inflicted by dreamt night horrors. i’ll talk a bit about the implications this revelation has for ronan’s relationships with niall, gansey, and lies/secrets/truths, but first, i’ll emphasize that there is a strongly blurred distinction between killer and tool when said tool springs from the killer’s own mind. i think this opens up an interesting avenue of discussion of a more general philosophy regarding ronan’s dreaming, his responsibility over himself versus his dreams (particularly the living dreams), to what degree would/should it possible to separate his dream’s volitions from his own, and does the answer change for dreams that act as extensions of other aspects of his subconscious, the dreams that materialize his care or love or innocence or fear instead of his self-destructive tendencies, born of grief? and how does this change in situations when ronan is repressed, isolated, confused (e.g. the specific point in ronan’s development currently being discussed)? when ronan has been raised to never disclose his dreaming, cannot choose the content of his dreams, and has not been explicitly taught that he can choose what to bring back? 

in chapter 18, ronan makes this confession to gansey after waking from the mask nightmare, which results in the manifestation of night horrors in addition to the mask bearing adam’s (ronan’s? ronan’s adam’s?) blood. the scene, once gansey finds ronan, starts with his back turned, “wicked” tattoo on display, body tense and guarded. we’re reading from gansey’s pov, so the limited access to ronan’s internal experience adds to the mysterious and tense atmosphere- for a moment, ronan is someone alien, strange, unfamiliar to gansey. crucially, ronan addresses gansey in latin: quemadmodum gladius neminem occidit; occidentis telum est. it feels like an avoidance of the truth, of what he’s about to disclose, given the lack of eye contact and, maybe moreso, gansey’s inferior grasp of latin. when ronan does turn to face gansey, he resurrects their collective memory of a promise: that ronan told gansey ‘it would never happen again.’ gansey interprets, as anyone with his incomplete vantage point would, this as a promise to not attempt suicide again, but ronan clarifies that he has technically broken his word by dreaming more night horrors (as, apparently, the promise was to not let himself get attacked by them again rather than to not attempt suicide again- but as i’ve said, i think the distinction is due to ronan’s a. still-developing sense and command of self, dreaming, subconscious urges, etc. and b. aversion to lying). ronan tells gansey it’s not like that- but it kind of is. perhaps the difference this time is that his manifestation of the night horrors is less steeped in grief at the loss of his father and more characterized by his feelings for adam and difficulty accepting them, but that’s not something prominently explored in this chapter (because of all the repression, of course).

another difference, far more immediately crucial, is that this time, he no longer keeps the dreaming secret, and this evolution from silence to confession saves them both. ronan has gansey to literally help fight his demons (notably, kavinsky has no one, in the end). it is ronan’s choice and ronan’s choice alone to find the will to live, to break down his self-hatred, but it is his relationships that foster an environment in which that’s possible (the most relevant examples to this current topic are gansey helping him kill the night horror in monmouth and adam repairing the ley line during the battle with kavinsky at the end of the book). ronan’s night horrors are killable, defeatable; his suicidality is not perpetual nor insurmountable. kavinsky’s dragon, by comparison, seems invulnerable, or at least exponentially more difficult to kill, especially without the benefit of implicit, durable love on his side. i think it’s also notable that kavinsky knew the truth of ronan’s suicide attempt from the start, but this theoretical and experiential  understanding from another dreamer doesn’t save ronan- ronan has to willingly give up the secret. i think this feature of tdt argues that the truth means a lot less when it is stolen.

to return to niall for a bit, i think the chapter (as well as the one that precedes it, which begins with the proclamation: the mask was his father’s) provides some commentary on the consequences of keeping secrets vs confessing truth. niall commands ronan to never confess about the dreaming, so ronan uses a more literal suicide as a cover story. the secrecy and lie ronan carries on top of the self-destructive tendencies, the self-hatred, etc. are additionally heavy burdens for him to carry. trium @grandfather-clock made this absolutely brilliant observation that i've paraphrased a bit: that this secrecy about dreaming fosters ronan’s sense of shame, which extends to secrets beyond dreaming, and that this shame is a perverting force: it makes niall’s (probably) harmless mask hanging in the barns a legitimate danger in ronan’s dream; it makes adam/ronan's love for him, ronan’s second secret, a monstrous nightmare that reflects ronan’s perception of himself as a shameful, corrupting force. (i will venture so far as to posit that the dark night horrors, ronan's self-hatred, are a perversion of ronan's capacity to love himself and others: the two-headed night horror he can only dream at the end of tdt.)

ronan’s technical betrayal of niall is notable- even though gansey and the others already know about the dreaming; he discloses that dreaming nearly allowed him to kill himself (and being a dreamer likely contributed to his depression in the first place, making the loss of his father and subsequent isolation even more sharply felt). he makes this confession, however guarded, to gansey: someone who so fiercely strives to maintain ronan’s safety. 

but i will confess that even though i have my own interpretation, ronan’s own belief about his suicide attempt is a little slippery to me. I will say that quemadmodum gladius neminem occidit; occidentis telum est. is a seneca quote, and in context, it is referencing other men's arguments and not necessarily the author’s (seneca's) personal beliefs. does ronan agree with the claim, that the guilt lies with killer rather than the means of killing? is he admitting the lie to gansey while also admitting he DID kill himself, just not in the way gansey thought? was the lie about methodology and circumstance rather than true intention and feeling? or is he saying he doesn't believe that a sword is just a tool in the killer's hand, and that the night horrors have motives and thirst for his blood beyond what he feels and wants, and he is using the cover of someone else’s philosophy to make a difficult admission? regardless, even though ronan’s feelings toward the seneca quote are ambiguous to me (and i am quite doubtful that this particular context surrounding the quote was considered when this chapter was written), i think the intention of truth, honesty, and therefore trust constitute the most important part of the chapter, and that ronan does in fact believe what he is saying. 

at the end of the chapter, there’s some established clarity and revelation about ronan and his dreaming/near-death for gansey.. it takes the entirety of the scene in which they fight and kill the night horror for gansey to translate and recognize the quote, and ronan says it again, this time in english, this time with his face visible to gansey:  A sword is never a killer; it is a tool in the killer's hand. it feels like a deeper iteration of the confession. but does ronan believe what he’s saying, and what does it mean to him? i think it’s his way of telling gansey he really was harboring suicidal ideation, even if only in dreams (although his reckless behavior while awake suggests otherwise) and that the confession of the dreamt/magical aspect of the suicide has been made earlier, so he now makes the confession that said dreamt/magical aspect was a sword he forged to only harm himself. gansey doesn’t know this (and wouldn’t, since the night horror even claws him, not ronan during the scuffle, although i think it’s meant to immobilize gansey rather than kill him), but the night horrors only ever want to hurt ronan. they are said to be in love with his blood - a perversion of lynch arrogance! and also a fascinating avenue i’ve yet to explore given the fact that he dreams adam’s (?) blood and the nightmarish form of adam is described as a night horror himself in the previous chapter. 

ronan also repeats the line at the climax of the book (first told to him by cabeswater’s trees in latin, he then repeats it aloud in english). i won’t discuss it much here since you’ve asked about chapter 18 specifically, but i will say the following: the book states that the night horrors were not a weapon ronan could wield; he laments that he cannot control them and that they only want to hurt him. this sort of convolutes the conclusion i made at the end of chapter 18- now it seems like ronan sees a greater distinction between himself and the night horrors, which makes sense, since he is on the cusp of realizing he no longer hates himself, but the declaration that he can’t control them implies that he also had no control over his suicidality, which, now that i’m typing this, does make sense, but doesn’t necessarily lessen the link between his subconscious urges and material outcomes and truth of what happened. i think it’s interesting that ronan does not consider the night horrors weapons because he can’t use them to harm anyone (and this is in the context of not being able to use them in combat against kavinsky). it’s as if he’s robbing himself of personhood by declaring that harming himself with a tool does not make the tool a weapon, and it only would be a weapon if wielded against someone else. much to think about as i oscillate between the chapters. i think there is an obvious gap between ronan as a character and myself as a reader, and this distance is making my observations a bit muddled/subject to change as i re-read the scenes since i am constantly evaluating ronan’s perspective against the broader literary implications of his character.

i’ll sort of summarize all of this by saying i'm of the strong opinion that because ronan's dreams (especially at this point in his development when he has little control over his dreaming and is particularly at the whims/mercy of his subconscious) are not strictly him but are aspects so clearly derived from his own thoughts and feelings and desires and perceptions (the night horrors make ticking noises, maybe like hearts?), he did intentionally kill himself, even if the exact mechanism and thought process was obscured (even from himself) by the magic of it. so perhaps the night horrors are tools of expression (of grief, of self-hatred, of repression, of depression) rather than universal weapons, but become weapons against only ronan in his (the killer’s) hands. what do you think?

[late-to-the-party-81]

Meet, Greet, Indiscreet - Chapter 3

AN: A big hug and kiss from me to all of you who read and commented on the previous two chapters - find chapter one here and chapter two here.

And a final big thanks to @endlesstwanted for making this fic coherent.

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Summary: It’s time for Steve to reveal exactly what led up to his accidental coming out. Will he ever get over the embarrassment? Will Bucky ever let him near his computer ever again?

Relationships: Modern Bucky Barnes x Cap! Steve Rogers

WC: 2.4k

CW: Modern Bucky Barnes, Cap! Steve Rogers, Fluff, TV Interview, Flashback, Accidental nudity, Accidental coming out, Steve Roger’s Ass.

Bingo Fills and Challenges:

@stuckybingo B1 AU: You Tuber

@steverogersbingo D1 Steve vs The Internet 

Three weeks ago

Steve was tired. No, not tired. Exhausted. Weary in a way he couldn’t remember feeling. Admittedly, he and the others had been fighting super-robots in Belize for three days straight, but Steve was sure that the way he was feeling was because he wasn’t as young as he once was. Tony liked to joke that he wasn’t doing bad for a hundred and five, but physiologically he was only in his early forties. However, most forty-year olds were slower than their thirty-year old former selves. 

No-one quite knew what effect the serum would have on him as he got older, whether his body would age at a fairly normal rate, or just slow down. Either way, he was feeling forty-something and the mirror in the bathroom at the compound had agreed with him. At least Tony was feeling his age too, and agreed that a debrief could wait until tomorrow, after they’d all had a good night’s sleep. That being said, Steve actually had no idea what day it actually was, so there was a chance he could just get out of the debrief all together by feigning confusion, and he dearly wanted to not have to go anywhere when he finally woke up.

At this moment in time, he was riding his bike over to Bucky’s place and he wasn’t planning to leave for several days if he could help it. After the quinjet had landed, he’d only stopped long enough to change out of his uniform and have a quick shower. Then it was down to the garage and out onto the highway. He hadn’t seen Bucky in almost a week now, and he had been so busy tearing apart foes that were as tenacious as Ultron, if not as intelligent, that he hadn’t had any time to text him other than on the way home. Even then, that had been a cursory ‘I’m still alive, see you soon, love you’ type of missive. He knew Bucky wouldn’t hold it against him - his partner was more than well aware that this was what came with the territory, but Steve hated that it was that way sometimes.

Now he couldn’t wait to just get to Bucky’s apartment and slide into bed beside him. It was far too late to consider anything else other than that, but strangely that was the sort of thing he missed the most when they were apart - the non-sexual intimacy of just holding each other. That didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t have plans for the following day: plans that would be bed-centric. Or maybe shower-centric. Or any available surface-centric. There were a number of great places in Bucky’s home. Steve had made it his mission to find them all.

He took the off-ramp from the highway and began to wind through the streets, zoning in on Bucky’s block and then the apartment building itself. The structure was modest - expensive, but not flashy -, and he used his code to get into the underground parking garage before making his way up to the apartment itself. He quietly hung his keys up on the hook near the door and placed his leather jacket on the coat rack. Although his plan had been to make it to bed as quickly as possible, as he crossed the living room his stomach rumbled. Given all of the physical exertion he’d put his body through the last few days, coupled with how awful their mission protein packs were, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to get something more to eat before turning in.

Steve detoured to the kitchen and made his way to the refrigerator. A smile crossed his face as he looked at the calendar attached to it, with all of Bucky’s livestreams and tournaments emblazoned across it in the gamer’s haphazard scrawl. He always had so much going on, he had to be really organised to stay on top of it all.

Fifteen minutes and a large snack later, Steve tiptoed into the bedroom. He shed his clothes quickly and climbed into bed, cuddling up behind Bucky and drawing his warm, sleep lax body as close as possible. Bucky wiggled against him and Steve didn’t think he could get any cuter until he mumbled something that sounded like ‘Live-stream’ under his breath. Bucky was even dreaming about his job, a fact that Steve found utterly adorable. However, now Steve had finally allowed himself to relax, the urge to sleep could no longer be held back, and within a few minutes he had joined his lover in dreamland.

When Steve finally awoke, it was to find the sun high in the sky. Through squinted eyes, he made out the time on the clock - 13:23. A small, satisfied noise left his throat - he’d managed to sleep longer than he thought he would, and the lateness of the day explained why he was alone in the bed.

“Buck?” He called out, knowing his voice would travel out through the open doorway of the bedroom and into the sitting room, but there was no answer. He wasn’t worried, though - in all probability Bucky was probably in his studio, practising on his computer. His boyfriend had a live stream coming up, either tomorrow or the day after, so he wanted to be at his best.

Sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, Steve felt a dull ache running through his muscles. Most of his cuts and abrasions had healed overnight and his bruises had dulled from a purple to yellow, but the memory of the fight still remained in his body. Another shower was definitely in order. Not only would it help to soothe the ache, but it would also mean that he would be nice and clean for when he could drag Bucky away from his computer. Knowing his boyfriend's routine, he had no doubt that Bucky had had his own shower when he woke up earlier in the day.

Steve climbed out of bed with a smile, even if he was still a bit stiff. Today was going to be a good day. He and the team had defeated the bad guys,all got home with only minor injuries, and on top of that, he finally got to spend time with his love. As the hot water cascaded over his body, he hummed to himself, a chuckle leaving him when he realised that it was a Marvin Gaye track stuck in his head. If Sam knew, he’d never hear the end of it.

With his ablutions completed, Steve wrapped a towel around his waist and scrubbed at his hair and beard with another, getting most of the moisture off. He even put on some of the facial moisturiser that Bucky had bought for him. Apparently, super-soldier serum wasn’t a good enough excuse not to look after his skin properly. Still humming, he made his way into the kitchen, pleased to see that there was still some coffee in the pot. Between sips, he started to make his oatmeal, aware of the tell-tale sounds of Bucky in his studio - the whir of the computer fan and the clicking of Bucky’s mouse, overlaid with sounds of him talking. However, as he was preoccupied by making his breakfast, Steve wasn’t really listening. In all likelihood it was someone from the PR team.

Steve perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar as he ate his bowl of oatmeal. Bucky might tease him about it, calling him an old man, but there was something comforting about the simple fair, even if it was ‘jazzed up’ compared to the breakfast of his youth. Skinny, pre-serum Steve would have been overwhelmed with the choice of toppings now available. With the bowl scrapped clean and placed in the dishwasher, he decided to brew another pot of coffee. If he took a fresh cup to Bucky,  the distraction might help him to find out what his boyfriend had planned for the day and whether he could be persuaded to do something - or someone - else instead.

With a mug in each hand, Steve used his elbow to open the door and walked into Bucky’s studio - his place of work. Bucky was sitting at his computer desk that was in the corner of the room. His back was to Steve and he had his headphones on. He was also talking, narrating what was happening on screen, as he played the first person shooter game. Steve placed the mugs down on the bookcase and moved up behind him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and nuzzling in, nudging one of the headphones off Bucky’s ear. “Morning, lover,” he crooned.

Bucky leapt up with a shout, his chair rolling back, causing Steve to jump and turn to the side to avoid having his toes rolled over.

“Steve! What on earth?” Bucky’s eyes, wide in shock roved up and down Steve’s body before his face went deathly pale. “Oh no!” Spinning back to the keyboard, he struck a few keys and the screen went black. Confused by Bucky’s reaction, Steve looked down at himself and realised that his towel had fallen to the floor when Bucky had jumped to his feet.

For a moment he couldn’t work out what was so bad about being naked in front of his boyfriend, but another look at Bucky’s stricken expression made something click inside his mind. The image of the kitchen calendar flashed in front of his eyes.

“Buck… Tell me it’s the fourth today. It is, isn’t it?”

Bucky twisted his hands together, expression still pained. “No,” he whispered. “It’s the fifth.”

Looking at the wall clock, the hands taunted Steve with the fact that the time was twenty past two. His legs felt weak, and he dropped, still naked, down onto Bucky’s chair. “You were just on your livestream.” It wasn’t a question - he knew it as a fact. His stomach rolled and he could feel sweat breaking out across his skin.

Bucky dropped to a crouch in front of him and took hold of his hands. “I did tell you last night - when you got in. I woke up a bit and I remember…”

Steve broke him off with a shake of his head. “It’s not your fault, Buck. It’s mine. I forgot what day it was.” He was trying to work out how he’d gotten so muddled, but at that moment his brain caught up with the more pressing issue. “Oh god. Your followers - they saw me cuddle you and they’re all gonna know and fuck! They saw my ass!”

“They did, indeed, see your ass,” Bucky agreed, with a fixed expression.

Steve looked at Bucky. Bucky looked back. Steve’s lips twitched and then they were both laughing. Steve slid out of the chair and onto the floor next to Bucky, who was wiping tears from his eyes.

“There’s no way Nat can delete this and smooth it over, is there?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer. This wasn’t a tweet that was probably only seen by a few hundred people and could be easily deleted and attributed to someone else.

“Nope,” says Bucky. “I think the cat is out of the bag.”

“At least I have a good ass,” Steve mused with a wry smile.

Bucky grinned. “The best. And welcome to being out of the closet.”

“You go call your PR and I’ll call mine?” Steve suggested.

“Sounds like the best plan. And Steve? Go put some pants on.”

The present

Much like how the pair of them had been when it happened, having now heard the story, the host is bent over his desk from laughter. “So,” he said between wheezes. “What’s been the fallout from this? How have your lives changed?”

“Well,” said Bucky with a twinkle in his eye, “I now have a lock on my studio door and the calendar is pinned up on the outside of it, so we don’t have a repeat performance.”

The host snorted.

“But,” Steve interjected, “all jokes aside, it wasn’t as bad as I’d fear it would be. Yes, there was a certain amount of the expected backlash, considering my job and what I stand for, but on the whole people have been really supportive. For me, defending America means defending the rights of all its people to live the lives they want to live.”

“And what was the impact on your channel, Bucky?”

“Well, obviously in the immediate aftermath there was a surge of people subscribing, probably in the hope they’d get more Steve, either accidental or planned, but they soon dropped away again when they realised they weren’t going to get it.” Bucky turned to the camera with a fake apologetic expression and a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry, folks, my channel isn’t an Only Fans.”

The still amused host let out a snigger. “So what’s next? Is this going to alter what you do?”

“Now that everything’s out in the open, I’m hoping to do some collaborations or interviews with some of the other Avengers - talk about in-game physics versus real life physics, and maybe a Charity stream with Thor playing Mario Kart. All proceeds to Stonewall. Various things are in the works and we’d like to capitalise on the fact that one of the most famous Avengers is now a known member of the LGBTQIA+ community. Do something to help those who need it.”

“That all sounds wonderful. But no more Steve?”

Lips twitching, Steve replied “I think me and the Internet have come to an understanding to stay away from each other.”

With that said, the smiling host turned to the camera. “Well folks - that’s all we have time for. Thank you all for tuning in for this exclusive interview. We’ll be back next week, same time, same place. Until then, good bye and stay safe.”

From behind the camera, the director counted them out, and with the all clear given, Steve turned to Bucky. “I’m glad that’s over with.”

Bucky rewarded him with a soft peck on his lips. “You did brilliantly, baby. And you know? Now that you’re well and truly out, we can be seen in public together. Holding hands. And kissing.”

Steve gasped and raised his hands to his chest theatrically. “How scandalous, Mr Barnes.”

“I know. Shocking,” Bucky dead panned. “Now, take me home, Steve. Take me home and make love to me.”

“Buck, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites,

@alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @starrkermarvel

[dailycharacteroption]

Book Review: Classic Monsters Revisited

I had said yesterday that we’d be looking at how Pathfinder reimagined goblins and other monsters , and now I’m here to deliver!

Classic Monsters Revisited was the start of one of my favorite series of setting books for Pathfinder’s core setting, the Revisited series. Like the name suggests, it was all about showcasing various monsters (plus one time they focused on magic items) and how Pathfinder sought to recontextualize them and breathe new life into the concepts, which they did at first, thought later iterations were more focused on showing off the new monsters they had ripped wholesale from folklore or made up wholesale, though they never truly abandoned revisiting monsters that had been featured in past iterations of D&D.

The monsters this time around were Bugbears that were less “vaguely bearlike uber-goblins” and more creepy stalking predators like the boogeyman that their name is actually a variant of; Gnolls that were, let’s be honest, more or less the same as D&D gnolls but with a different deity slapped onto them; The Goblins we all know and love from their  fusion of Stitch and Gremlins; Hobgoblins being the classic militaristic types we know of but also being created by divine intervention on goblin stock; Kobolds, who aren’t changed that much from past systems beyond not having any connection or reason to hate gnomes in particular; Lizardfolk, which aren’t changed much beyond actually exploring their culture and demonstrating how different societies have different social mores; Minotaurs, which aren’t changed much at all; Ogres, who’ve gone from lesser giants to being “The Hills Have Eyes” style degenerate mutants and hybrid offspring of humans and giants, while being capable of some of the most monstrous acts both against other humanoids and even each other; Orcs, who aren’t changed much and were just given relevant lore for the setting; And finally, Trolls, which aren’t changed much but are given interesting lore tying them to the First World and also exploring the difficulties of maintaining the metabolism necessary for their regeneration.

The art and lore in this book is all fun stuff that taps into not just the physiology and behavior of these beings, but also where they live and what their lives are like. Interestingly, the art for trolls appears to predate the official look that Pathfinder gave to troll-kind, and hearkens back to their look in D&D, what with the elongated drooping noses that almost certainly would get in the way of eating and whatnot, whereas later Pathfinder would give them massive tusks and underbites, a more potbelly appearance, and somewhat porcine faces.

One the one hand, this book perfectly showcases how Paizo was willing to go above and beyond to make some of their classic humanoid threats more interesting and diverse, be it the comical goblins, the terrifying bugbears, or the pure disgust of ogres.

On the other, however, a lot of the humanoids in this book actually are barely changed or fleshed out at all, and are sometimes just awful for awfulness's sake. Gnolls and orcs being universally cave-dwelling slavers and brutes, kobolds being cowardly, minotaurs barely having a society at all, and so on.

The good news is, this eventually gets better, with orcs being given proper nuance with the matanji orcs of the Mwangi Expanse being goodly guardian warriors, while the Belkzen orcs even got enough nuance to see that they were forged by the struggles caused by both the Dwarven Quest for Sky and the return of the sun, while others focus their pride and physical prowess elsewhere.

Meanwhile, gnolls get a more matriarchal culture (far cry from their weirdly misogynistic patriarchal one even while worshipping a goddess), and we see, especially with mwangi gnolls, them being a practical and pragmatic people, a far cry from the assumption of lazy slavers that only represent the most monstrous tribes of their kind.

And Minotaurs! Oh, how they improved minotaurs over time, including giving them a better origin based in Pathfinder’s not-Greece Ibyldos rather than being “Lamashtu did a thing again”.

All this to say nothing of how kobolds have evolved into a people able to match their pride with their actions and even get new lore where they adapt and evolve to match powerful beings they revere.

All of these changes as the Pathfinder setting evolved does mean that while this book is a good jumping-off point, a lot of it is woefully out of date.

Some of that goes back to the original assumption that Pathfinder was going to be a more edgy, dark fantasy setting. (They went as far as to explicitly state the carnal, often incestuous, habits of ogres, for example.) However, some of it also ties back to the lingering assumptions of Gygax’s vision of D&D, wherein biological determinism was very much a thing and “evil” ancestries were inherently so with no chance of redemption and no moral recourse but to wipe them from the earth, and all the horrific implications that come with that when used as a metaphor for the real world.

Thankfully, we as a fandom are happily moving away from such things, with conflicts with orcs and goblins being more about struggles for resources, cultural misunderstandings, and of course the influence of evil gods teaching them that malicious right-makes-right ideologies are superior, which you can happily apply to any people, even the traditionally “good” peoples.

I think that will do for today, but this has been a fun revisitation. Now, on to something more focused on mechanics than lore!